IN THE WOODS
I’m standing here on the South Lawn of the White House; the rotor blades are beating the air, stirring the grass on the ground. It’s a Saturday afternoon, late October, but unusually warm. The setting sun sprawls over the White House, clothing it into interesting shades of colors; it also softens the cold metallic surface of the chopper. Okay, enough with the poetry, Lyman! The VH-71 Kestrel, usually bearing the call sign Marine One, is ready to take off. The pilot, two marines and an agent of my detail are already seated inside. They are waiting for me to board, but I take a moment to marvel over nature’s beauty. It’s somehow relaxing.
“Mr. Lyman, wait up!” Special Agent Enrico Tomasso shouts, making me turn around.
“Enrico?” I say his name and arch an eyebrow at him. What he could possibly want right now?
“The President called, we are accompanying you,” the agent explains over the sound of the rotors.
I nod and signal the pilot to stop the engines. My agent leaves the chopper to give his place to the agents of Helen Santos and her children. He will join us later at Camp David. Meanwhile, I’m waiting patiently at the steps, thinking about the tasks I have to face upon arriving at the NSF Thurmont. I’m also mentally running a check what I had been already able to do since my boss flew out. I stayed behind to take care of some business. It wasn’t too much but nonetheless essential, otherwise I would have gone with him.
“Hi!” Miranda Santos, clad in an elegant white blouse, red sweater and deep brown pants, greets me with a smile, and I feel my mouth involuntarily twist into a smile in return. Also I notice that I’ve got a new found interest in colors. I nod my head and watch as the girl climbs the steps with his agent. I really like her although sometimes she annoys me. I have a hunch that she does that on purpose. Another hunch tells me that someone constantly puts her up to it. I just don’t know whether it’s the President or Mrs. Santos.
Peter Santos, a deep blue backpack on his right shoulder, doesn’t bother with greeting, and it almost seems like he simply hops into the helicopter. I don’t know how he does this. He is full of energy, sure, but he does have a certain grace in him. Well, he is his father’s son, I guess. I wonder… No, we won’t go there now, Lyman. I’m sure that Peter is in for a dressing-down by his mother. I know how frustrating it had been when I was at the receiving end of those from my own mother, but I also know that the lectures contributed to my ‘half-civilized’ manners of the present.
Helen and Donna exit last, deep in conversation, seemingly oblivious to their surroundings: the bodyguards, the chopper, the saluting Marine and me. I wonder what they are talking about. Maybe about how pissed Donna is right now. And you can guess at whom.
“Hi, Josh,” Helen greets me then as she boards Marine One. She gives me a little smile, and I don’t know what to make of it. She is more often than not pissed at me, so a smile can be a bad sign or a good sign at the same time. She could smile at my demise at the hand of my lover or she could smile at me because I managed to do something good. Not that that good was perceived as good by my girlfriend. But we won’t go there right now. I don’t have the luxury of time to do that right now.
“Ma’am,” I return and then gesture towards Donna that she should enter the chopper first. “Ladies first,” I murmur, not really knowing why.
“Thank you, Josh,” Donna responds and climbs the five little steps. Is that a good sign that she acknowledged my presence? Or is that just her manners? Okay, Josh, we are not going there either. I finally give the sign to the pilot, and the rotors swirl to life once again.
We are sitting in silence, not that we have much chance. It can be pretty noisy in a chopper. The kids keep pinching each other, and Helen reaches out to discipline them with a small gesture of her hand. Every time she does that, I remember the almost same hand movement from my own mother when she did the same to smooth over little fights between Joanie and myself. And every time I have to throw a look at Donna. I can’t help it; I just keep picturing her doing the same.
Donna is looking out of the window, and I’m basically doing the same, except when the kids pinch each other or when I throw infrequent, stealthy, furtive glances at Donna. Yes, Sam is rubbing off on me. We had a fight this morning. I mean Donna and me. Let me tell you something, I hate fights and I know that Donna hates them even more. We didn’t really have a chance to talk since that although I know that I should have called Donna before heading off to Camp David. After all, we weren’t supposed to meet for four days. I know that I would have called her from the lodge but I can only hope that Donna knows that too. God, why is this so complicated? And why was I such a goddamn idiot this morning? That sentence I uttered at one in the morning and Donna’s hurt will always follow me. Although what I meant was much better than what came out. And Donna didn’t let me explain myself. She just stormed out of the house. So I guess our little misery is both of our faults.
Peter pinched Miranda again. I pull out my Blackberry; there is a simple puzzle game on it. I give it to Helen and indicate with a nod that she should give it to Peter. She takes a look at the display, nods and hands the Blackberry to Peter. He looks back at me with a grin. I guess that’s his way to say thank you. And I guess next time he won’t forget to greet me. I don’t even know why that is important to me, but it is.
There was a flash. Was there a flash outside or just in my head? To tell the truth after the nightmare this morning, I’m not really surprised. Donna left around one and I was really-really tired, also really-really pissed at myself and at Donna, too. So the nightmare wasn’t a surprise either. But I really don’t want to have an episode right now. Even though they are not that visible or violent nowadays, and I can even recall what others are saying during the episode I’m still not able to participate in conversations during it. Not that I’d like. Heaven forbid! Opening my mouth while having an episode would be nothing short of a disaster. I really can’t have an episode right now. But I guess it’s too late because I can already feel that metallic taste in my mouth. ‘Okay, Josh, you have to press your back to the cabin wall.’ Did I just hear Stanley’s voice? It’d be ridiculous for many-many reasons, but for starters, the wall-therapy wasn’t Stanley’s idea. I turn around a bit so my back is against the cabin wall. I feel the safety belt tighten around me. I try not to breathe but it’s painful nonetheless. I think I will close my eyes just for a minute. I can ride this out. Only if I would dare to take a deep breath, I’m sure that would relax me.
*****
Why is there smoke in the cabin? What happened? How comes I can’t hear the rotors? How comes there is a silence? Make that an eerie one. Why aren’t we moving? Wait! We are not moving. Okay, Lyman, concentrate! There is smoke in the cabin. The door is open for some unexplainable reason, and the smoke is slowly dissipating through it. Everybody is out cold. Are they dead? Oh, my God! DONNA!
“Donna!” I cry. There is no answer. I unbuckle the safety belt and reach forward. Helen was sitting in front of me. I feel her face and I touch her neck. Okay, there is a faint pulse there. Good. Miranda was sitting next to her. I catch a glimpse of a dead body next to mine. Come on, Lyman! This is not the time to get squeamish. Good, Miranda has a pulse too. Peter. Peter’s breathing hard, he must have inhaled all that smoke but he is awake.
“Peter, can you hear me?” I ask him.
“Josh?” he asks me, his voice unsure.
“I’m here. Unfasten your belt but don’t climb out of the machine,” I instruct him. Who knows what awaits us there.
I make my way to Donna. I have to step over a foot whose owner is clearly dead, at least judging by the angle of his head. Okay, Lyman, we don’t need you to heave on dead bodies. Donna’s pulse is steady, and I’m relieved.
“Peter, try to raise your sister. Easy,” I warn him when he pokes Miranda. In the meantime, I’m doing the same with Donna. “Come on, Donna! Time to rise and shine!” I joke with her, but my voice is trembling. “Donatella Moss, open your eyes!”
“Hold your horses, Joshua!” she croaks. “I’m trying to collect myself.”
“Good. Peter, is Miranda okay?” I ask the boy.
“I’m okay, Mr. Lyman,” she tells me.
“Good. Donna, I’ll peer outside. If everything is okay, I want you to leave the chopper with the kids,” I tell her, and she nods.
There is no one outside, so Donna hops off, helping Miranda and Peter leave the helicopter. I’m finally face to face with Helen. Her breathing is labored, her pulse still very faint, but she seems to be conscious.
“Josh, I’m flattered that you like my neck, but…” she whispers.
“Are you okay?” I ask her.
“I’m afraid not,” she says, coughing. The cough shakes her whole body, and I see that she is in pain. “I think my legs are broken.”
“Both?” I ask rather lamely.
“Yeah, I’m afraid,” she says, a little smile tugging at her mouth. I always admired her courage and stamina.
“Okay, I need to check on everyone else, maybe there is someone left who could help us or could call help.”
“Don’t worry about me, Josh. The kids are your priority,” she tells me.
“They are okay,” I reassure her, and she nods.
“I know. Peter poked Miranda rather forcefully. I have to talk to him later,” she whispers.
I climb over to the pilot’s cabin. They seem to be dead too, but then I notice a slight movement from the co-pilot.
“Oh, good! Can you call for help?” I ask him.
“I’m afraid not, sir,” he tells me, his breathing ragged. “They disabled the radio before they left.” Okay, that explains why two of the agents are not in the chopper and why two of them are dead.
“Do you know what happened?” I ask him.
“They will come back, sir. With reinforcement,” he whispers and then coughs. Just as with Helen, the cough shakes his whole body. Also there is blood, slowly trickling from his mouth. “I won’t be able to help, sir” he says then apologetically.
“Just hold on, I’m sure help is on its way,” I say.
“Sir, you need to take them away from here,” he says, rather forcefully.
“I think that the rescue teams have a bigger chance to find us here than…” I want to tell him, but he grabs the lapel of my suit.
“You have to bring them away!” he insists. “Go eastwards, that’s the shortest way. You don’t know if someone shows up whether they are friend or enemy, don’t trust anyone.”
True. If two agents are behind this, whom can I trust?
“Okay. Just stay calm,” I tell him and climb back to Helen. “Ma’am, two agents did this. I will scoot down to see what happened to your legs.”
“Josh, the kids,” she whispers.
“In a minute, ma’am,” I tell her and squat down as far as the seats allow me. Whoa, it looks pretty bad. There is blood and… And there is bone. It’s an open fracture. Well diagnosed, Dr. Lyman, now what should we do?
“Josh, there is no way I can leave the chopper. You have to bring them to safety. Trust no one,” she says, her voice is fading.
Concentrate Lyman! Okay, I can’t do anything for Helen, and the children’s safety is my priority. I pull off one of the agent’s coat and cover Helen.
“You’ll be okay,” I reassure her but I know that my voice betrays me. Truth is I don’t know whether she will be okay. Open fracture is not that bad, but when untreated… Infection, blood loss… Okay. I can’t do this anymore. I need help.
“Donna,” I call her.
“What’s wrong, Josh?” she asks and climbs back.
“Helen has an open fracture. On both legs. I’ll look for something you can use as a bandage, but you have to do it, I don’t want to puke over it,” I tell her with a self-deprecating smile.
“Okay. No, Miranda!” She turns and faces the girl who wants to climb back. “Mommy will be okay, but we need space. We have to tend to her wounds,” she explains, and the girl nods.
“Mom!” I hear Peter, while I’m looking for something to use. Oh, parachutes!
“Sssh, Peter, everything will be okay,” I hear Helen. “Listen to me; you have to go with Josh and Donna. They will make sure that you are safe. I want you two to do what Josh and Donna tell you. Could you promise me that?”
“Yes, Mom,” Peter says uncharacteristically compliantly. I guess Miranda only nodded because I couldn’t hear her. Or maybe not.
“Miranda, you have to promise me, sweetheart,” Helen insists.
“Okay, Mommy. I promise.”
“I found this,” I tell Donna when I open the parachute’s bag.
“That’s good, but we need a scissor,” Donna says, and seconds later a little scissor appears next to her.
“I’ve got that in my backpack,” Peter says, and we both flash him a smile.
“You are a very remarkable kid, Peter,” Donna praises him, cuts the parachute and bandages Helen’s legs. “Will this be okay, Helen?”
“Yes, yes, it’s okay. You have to go now,” she insists, and I know she is right.
“Okay, we have to go,” I tell Donna and the kids and I can see that they don’t want to come. “Okay, we need a commando structure here. When I say something I expect that it happens. At once,” I tell them, and three pairs of eyes are fixed on me.
“Do what Josh says,” Helen tells them, and Donna nods.
“Okay. Peter, give Donna your backpack,” I instruct Peter, and he complies. I let the kids in for a minute, they both kiss Helen, and then we are off.
*****
It’s almost dark, and I’m afraid we won’t be able to make it far enough. The fallen leaves rustle under our shoes, otherwise we march in silence. Peter already told us that there was a flashlight in his backpack, but we decided that we’ll use that later. Miranda stumbled a minute ago, but Donna helped her and I know that now we are pretty used to the uneven ground.
“Peter,” I call him in a low voice when we are in a safe distance away from the chopper. “What else do you have in your backpack?”
“My Jedi-sword, a water bottle, a blackberry, some chocolate and bonbons. You won’t tell Mom, will you?” he asks then.
“No, Peter, we don’t have to tell your Mom,” I promise him. “Is that bottle empty?”
“No, there is juice in it. Blackberry juice,” he points out. Okay, blackberry is not my kind of drink, but it’s better than nothing.
“Is Daddy coming for us?” Miranda asks in a whisper.
“I’m sure that he does everything in his might to find us,” Donna reassures her.
“Does he know where we are?” Miranda asks then, making Peter stop.
“We can’t stop, Peter. Go on,” I admonish him. “I won’t lie to you, Miranda, your Dad doesn’t know where we are, but I’m sure he is looking for us.”
“We could tell him where we are,” Peter says.
“The radio in the helicopter was disabled, we can’t,” I tell him. If there is one thing I learned in the past three years with these kids is that you don’t lie to them. They are far too clever and smart not to see through it.
“But I have your Blackberry in my backpack,” he says.
“Really?” I ask back and wonder why I didn’t realize this earlier. Okay, he said he had a Blackberry in his backpack, but I discarded this as useless inform, somehow thinking that there was an actual blackberry in his bag. I know, I know. It was stupid. And then when he told me he had blackberry juice, I thought he meant that. Okay, now assuming from now on; we almost missed this chance.
“Yes, although the battery was pretty low,” Peter informs me. Yeah, that’s right. I used it today pretty often, and then Peter played with it. But it’s not our only problem. We don’t know where we are.
“Donna, do you have your cell?” I ask her.
“No, my bag was not there when I woke up,” she tells me. Okay, so she realized it earlier. But then again, she was always the practical one in our relationship. “Your backpack was missing too, by the way.” She adds, and we know why. I’m still not clear about those two agents, but right now I don’t have the mental capacity to think about that.
“Will your Blackberry work, Mr. Lyman?” Miranda asks me.
“Josh,” I correct her. “And I hope so. There is a chance that there is no signal here, but let’s try it,” I tell Donna who puts down the bag. Peter rummages in the backpack and finally pulls out my Blackberry. When I push a button, I see that the battery is pretty low. That means one call. “Okay, I know you want to talk to your Daddy, but you know how it is. If I call the White House they will let us wait while they connect us to Camp David. We can’t risk that the battery dies on us. Is that okay?” I ask them, wanting them to understand.
“Yes,” the three of them nod.
“Who are you going to call?” Donna asks.
“We could call Sam,” Miranda says.
“Sam is in Milwaukee, Miranda,” I inform her. “He is pretty busy, maybe his voice mail picks up, and then we don’t stand a chance.” Yeah, Sam was my first thought too.
“Lou,” Peter tells me.
“Lou is with Sam,” I say. Yeah, Lou was my second thought. But you see, we are campaigning; trying to convince the population that it’s a good idea to re-elect Matthew Santos.
“You have to call him or her,” Donna tells me. Yeah, I came to the same conclusion. “Okay, I’ll call a friend of mine. I just hope he will come through to.” Yes, Donna was talking about CJ and Toby. And while CJ is more likely to come through, it’s also more likely that she won’t pick up. Toby is always there when I call him and he usually picks up after the second ring. I have to take the risk.
“Toby Ziegler,” I hear him after the first ring.
“Listen, my battery is low. Tell Matt that the kids are okay. We are in the woods, and two agents did this to us,” I tell him.
“Okay,” I hear Toby’s voice, he is remarkably cool, but I didn’t expect anything else from him. “Do you know where you are?” Always the practical one, just like Donna.
“Yeah, in the forest, more precisely in the middle of the forest. I have no idea,” I tell him then. “Will you come through?”
“I will, don’t worry about that,” Toby says. “You have to take them away from the chopper.”
“We are on our way,” I tell him. “We are heading south, hoping that they think we went east to reach the shore.”
“Okay. Who is with you?” Toby asks.
“Donna and the kids. Toby, Helen…” I want to say but the battery dies at this moment. Yeah, I heard the little sound that signaled that it was going to die, but I hoped against hope that it will last another minute.
“Who is Toby?” Miranda asks.
“Well, he is a friend of mine. And believe you me, he will set everything in motion to find us,” I assure her.
Miranda nods, and the reason I can see it is because the moon is shining, finally unobstructed.
“Okay, we have to go on. One more hour, and then we can rest a bit,” I tell them.
“It’s getting kinda cold,” Peter tells me.
“Are you already cold?” Donna asks him.
“No, but if I have to sit down on the cold ground, I’ll be. I know, I was sick after I did it last year with Grandpa John,” he informs us.
“It’s good then that I brought a parachute with me,” I try to lighten the mood a little.
“We are sleeping in a parachute?” Miranda asks in awe.
“Yeah, but we need to keep on going for another hour. Think you can manage that?” I ask them. I see, but even without seeing I would know that they must be dead on their feet. But it’s not like we have a choice. “Peter, are you okay?” I ask the boy who is standing next to me.
“Yes, I’m okay, Josh,” he tells me.
“I want you to tell me when you can’t go on anymore. I promise I won’t get angry,” I say, and the three of them nod simultaneously.
GO TO PART TWO