�This is the worst part of living on this island,� Alan complained as he placed the empty ice chest on the four-wheeler and pulled it away from the wall. The ice chest would be rotated with a second one filled with perishables that Miguel would be bringing to them. �Having to walk so far to get supplies every six weeks or so. Sometimes, I think it would be better to have Miguel attach parachutes to the supplies and drop them from the plane. With my luck, though, the parachute would get hung up in the tree tops, and I�d break my neck climbing up to get them!�
�Oh, it can�t be that bad,� Ellie teased. �I�ve been kind of looking forward to it. You know, change of pace. Something different. We�ve been holed up in this dungeon for more than a week reading and cataloging all those documents, so getting out in the fresh air for a nice hike will be fun. We haven�t traveled very far from the compound since the incident with the packy.�
�I know, but it uses up more than half a day to get there and back,� Alan reminded her. �I�ve made this trip many times since . . . since . . . How long have I been here, anyway?�
�See?� Ellie pounced on his inability remember the duration of his stay on the island. �See? You�ve had your nose in your work so long you�ve lost track of time!�
She was smiling happily at him, and he found it impossible to feel annoyed by her eagerness to embark on a chore that he had come to despise. �Okay, okay, I�m guilty as charged. Let�s get out of here, shall we?�
He pushed the hand truck from the kitchen and its rubber wheels whirred along in front of him on the linoleum floor as he walked down the corridor to the front door. He paused wistfully at the hat rack, gazing at the place of honor that had once held his beloved fedora. He did not speak of his loss, but Ellie knew he was missing the hat, and presumably it would likely be one of the first things he would purchase upon his return to the States. He could have easily asked Miguel to pick one up for him, but he was so particular about his hats that she was not surprised that he had not made the request.
The pistol box was sitting on the small platform built into the hat rack, so he opened it and removed the weapon. He had no holster in which to keep it handy, so he checked to make certain the safety was in place, and then put it inside his backpack, which was hung by its straps on the handle of the four-wheeler, where it would be within easy reach. By remaining alert, he figured he would be able to determine if danger was nearby, and retrieve it in time to defend them. The shock prod was inserted in the loop on his belt as a backup device. Also inside the backpack were two sandwiches and two bottles of water.
After everything was safely stowed, he turned to Ellie, who was watching. Had he looked a little closer, he would have noticed the affection and admiration for him shining in her eyes. For some reason that he could not comprehend, she seemed to enjoy looking at him. �Ready?�
�Yep.�
He opened the solid door, unlocked the bars, and dragged the hand truck through behind him. Ellie brought up the rear. She left the solid door open to allow fresh air inside the dwelling, but securely closed and locked the bars behind them. Alan watched approvingly, and they set out for the landing strip, taking the same route in reverse that they had used on Ellie�s first day.
It was a beautiful day, bright and sunny with just a trace of breeze as they walked up the slope and entered the forest. Taking the lead, she followed the path carved into the soil by the vehicle wheels that had transported supplies from the landing strip to the compound. Alan followed, the hand truck rattling and bumping along on the uneven ground. The empty ice chest bounced and slid precariously all over the flat surface, but it was prevented from sliding off by a three inch rim.
As always, the humidity on the island was high, but Ellie was in high spirits and hardly noticed. Pulling a hair scrunchie from her pocket, she pulled her hair back into a pony tail to get it off her neck. It bounced and waved back and forth as she walked in a manner that Alan found extremely enticing.
The hike was uneventful with no animal sightings. They could have simply been taking a leisurely hike in the jungle, if not for the rather noisy hand truck. Allowing Ellie to enjoy the leisurely walk without the burden of worrying about their safety, he assumed the responsibility of remaining alert.
At last, they saw the glint of the asphalt runway through the foliage, and Ellie pushed away the soft fronds of a fern at the edge of the tree line and emerged into the open area near the runway. �The plane isn�t here,� she said. �Do you suppose something happened?�
Alan glanced at the watch on his wrist. �Nah, we made good time. Sometimes he�s early, sometimes I�m early. It�s hard to arrive at the precise time. Besides,� he added with a smile. �There�s a lot more spring in your step than the last time we made this trip!�
She smiled over her shoulder at him, ample reward for the compliment, then she turned back to face the landing strip as he emerged into the open and stopped beside her.
The long strip of dark gray asphalt dominated the ugly man-made clearing. In stark contrast to the pristine beauty of the jungle from which they had just emerged, the clearing seemed dry and starkly desolate. Tufts of grass struggled to survive in the cracks that were beginning to appear in the asphalt, and heat waves rippled on the surface beneath the hot sun.
�It looks even worse than I remembered,� Ellie said with a slight grimace.
�Yeah,� Alan agreed. �Seems wherever mankind goes, they leave a bit of themselves behind to mar the landscape.� He parked the hand truck in the shade, and sat down beside it in the cool grass.
Ellie gazed across the flat runway toward the jungle on the other side. There was no sign of life and no sound except the quiet rustling of leaves and fronds behind them. �This must be the loneliest place on earth,� she said. �It reminds me of the badlands in Montana, only somehow even more . . . lonely.�
He looked up in surprise at her curious choice of words. �There are lots of lonely places in the world.�
�I know, but this is like . . . I don�t know, like a ghost town or something. Without the town, if that makes sense. It�s so deserted, so forlorn, abandoned.� She shrugged, and glanced down at him with an embarrassed smile. �I know; I�m just being silly.�
�You�re not silly, Ellie,� he told her. �You�re just more sensitive than most people. You feel things more deeply.� He fell silent for a long moment, gazing at a particular spot on the landing strip, then added, �Truth be told, I don�t really like this part of the island, either.�
Her smile faded and she moved closer to him and sat down, folding her long legs Indian fashion. �Is this where it happened? The plane crash?�
He nodded, slowly. �I never told you about that trip, did I?�
�No. You�ve made references to it, but you never told me in any detail,� she replied, softly, hoping he would continue.
After a moment, he began: �It was supposed to just be a fly-by. The Kirbys were pretending to be a rich couple with money to spend, who thought it might be interesting to see real dinosaurs from the airplane. I think they said it was their anniversary, or something. They promised to provide me with enough money to fund my dig site for years to come.� He gave a sarcastic chuckle. �Little did I know what I was getting myself into. I should learn to follow my own instincts. I knew going into this that something was wrong, but I was so damn desperate for the money that I think I would have done almost anything � except maybe land on this island. They had hired three other men -- Nash was the pilot, a coordinator named Udesky, and at the time, I had no idea why Cooper was there. When I realized they intended to set the plane down, I tried to stop them, but Cooper hit me from behind.� His hand went to the back of his head as if to rub away the remembrance of it. �When I woke up, we were on the ground, and they were outside screaming and yelling for their lost son.�
�Eric,� she said, confirming that she had read the newspaper accounts. He was the boy in the clipping she still carried in her purse. �I can sort of understand what they must have been feeling. They would have been desperate to get their child back to have taken such a risk.�
�Yeah, but I don�t think they really took into consideration the fact that they were risking others as well. Mrs. Kirby was yelling into a megaphone, Mr. Kirby was just yelling, and Cooper and Nash were out scouting around, and they were yelling too. All of them, yelling their damn fool heads off. I tried to convince them to get back in the plane and get us off the ground, but no one listened.� He shook his head, slowly, remembering the anger and betrayal he had felt at being tricked into the ill-fated trip. �No one listened,� he repeated. �They didn�t understand the danger.� He sighed, heavily. �Fools.�
Ellie waited for him to continue, and when he didn�t, she prompted, �What happened?�
�That damn megaphone,� he said. �I�m sure her voice carried for at least a mile with that thing, which is what she intended, but it didn�t summon what they were looking for. When we heard a loud roar, I knew we were in trouble. Big trouble. Billy was as excited as a schoolboy; he thought it was a T-Rex, but I knew what a Rex sounded like, and it sounded different. We were down on that end of the runway,� he told her, pointing to one end of the long runway with his forefinger. �A moment later, Nash burst out of the brush running toward us, urging us back on the plane. The Kirbys didn�t want to comply, but he was so frantic, so obviously frightened that he spooked everyone, and we wasted little time getting back on the plane. Nash was so panicked that he left Cooper behind. While we were accelerating, Cooper ran onto the runway in front of us. We could see that he was begging us to stop, but Nash refused. The spinosaurus stepped out of the trees right over there,� he said, pointing to the tree line near the other end of the runway. �It snatched up Cooper just as we reached that point, and blood sprayed all over the windshield. The landing gear must have struck the animal�s head and somehow damaged the plane so that we were unable to gain enough altitude to get over the trees. We crashed in the treetops about a quarter of a mile into the jungle beyond the end of the runway.�
�In the tree tops?� Ellie asked. �How did you get down?�
He smiled a peculiar smile. �The spinosaurus was tall enough to look in the windshield at us, so what did we all do? We rushed to the back of the plane, and the weight of all of us in one spot just tilted the plane back, and it slipped from the tree and we fell all the way to the ground. It�s a miracle we survived the impact. The spinosaurus terrorized us for a while and killed Nash before the rest of us managed to escape.�
She placed her hand on his arm and squeezed affectionately. �It must have been awful. When I first arrived, you told me that the large dinosaurs never came into this part of the jungle. What about the spinosaurus?�
�The jungle thins a bit on the other side of the runway, without all the undergrowth that we saw behind us, so it can move beneath the canopy with relative ease.� He continued to gaze at the far end of the runway, deep in thought.
�The Kirbys didn�t pay you for the trip?�
�No. They weren�t rich at all. Turns out they owned a modest plumbing and tile business in Enid, Oklahoma. They lied and made promises because Billy had told them that we needed money desperately to keep the dig site going. Oh, they offered to reimburse me for as much as they could afford every month, but you can�t run a dig on a few hundred dollars a month.� He drew a deep breath and released it in a heavy sigh. �That was the beginning of the end for me. I was completely broke. My work was my life. I guess that�s why I�ve been on this island so long. There was simply no reason to go back.� And no one to go back to! He reached for the backpack and changed the subject abruptly. �Let�s eat while we�re waiting.�
He withdrew the sandwiches from the pack, passed one to Ellie and set the other on his thigh as he reached in for the two bottles of water.
�It doesn�t seem as hot today as it was the day I first arrived,� Ellie mused.
�It is. Maybe a little hotter, even. It�s just that you�re in better shape than you were back then. You�ve come a long way in the last six weeks.�
She smiled in agreement as she peeled the plastic wrapping from her peanut butter sandwich. �In more ways than one. I�m starting to feel whole again.�
Alan gazed at her quietly, thinking that he was starting to feel whole again also, but he did not say so aloud. Instead, he unwrapped his own sandwich, and they ate their meals in the quiet shade near the edge of the runway.
Finally, a half hour later, Alan said, �There�s the plane.�
Ellie shaded her eyes and squinted up into the brilliant sky. �I don�t see it,� she told him.
He pointed in the proper direction. �There, that silver speck.�
She saw the tiny dot reflecting the glare of the sun, and marveled at his remarkable eyesight. Slowly, it became larger and more identifiable as it drew nearer, until she could hear the engines. It banked to the left, and lined up with the landing strip.
Alan stood up and dusted off the back of his jeans with his hands as they watched the plane float gracefully down to the landing strip.
The plane taxied toward them, coming to a stop nearby. Alan reached for the hand truck, and he wheeled it out toward them as the hatch opened, and the burly Hispanic man trotted down the steps, his hand outstretched in greeting.
Alan accepted the friendly handshake, and Miguel said, �You look well, Se�or, better even than when I saw you last. Having company on the island must be agreeing with you, eh?� His eyes shifted to Ellie, noticing that she appeared much healthier and happier than when he had last seen her. �And you also, Se�ora. You both look well.�
�Thank you, Miguel. You�re looking well too,� Alan responded with a smile. �Now that we�ve acknowledged how well we all look, how�s your family?�
�Ah, doing well, Se�or, doing well,� he replied, his choice of words making them all laugh. �My youngest son, Ram�ne, he be talking soon!�
Alan could almost see Ellie�s ears prick up at the mention of Miguel�s son. �How many children do you have, Miguel?� she asked, curiously.
�I have four boys and three girls,� he said proudly. His eyes lingered on Ellie a moment longer before returning to Alan, recalling the paleontologist�s anger at seeing her arrival six weeks earlier. �I wondered if maybe I would be taking the Se�ora back to civilization with me. Or maybe you like having her here, eh?�
�No, you won�t be taking her back, and yes I like having her here,� Alan replied, patiently, ignoring the implication. Miguel was smiling broadly, a suggestive look that made Ellie�s cheeks heat up. Alan saw the grin and Ellie�s reaction to it. �You can wipe that grin off your face now, Miguel. It isn�t what you�re thinking.�
Miguel made an unsuccessful attempt to curb his amusement. �I�m not thinking anything, Se�or, except that maybe she be good influence you!� he replied, quickly. �You seem different with her here.�
Alan and Ellie exchanged glances. �Different, how?� Alan asked, inadvertently taking the bait.
�How you say? More content! That�s it, more content.� He nudged Alan gleefully with his elbow. �More satisfied.�
Alan sighed. �Come on, Miguel --�
�Whatever you say, Se�or. I go get the supplies,� Miguel said, quickly. Turning, he strode back toward the plane. They could hear him laughing, merrily.
After he had returned to the plane, Ellie turned to Alan, genuinely puzzled. �Alan, you know what he�s thinking! Why didn�t you just come right out and tell him that nothing has really happened between us? Not to the degree he�s thinking, anyway.�
�Do you really think he would believe me?� Alan asked.
Ellie was forced to concede that he was right. �No, I suppose he wouldn�t. He didn�t believe me when I told him I was coming out here to help you with your work.�
�Besides, trying to deny it would only prolong the teasing. Better to just let him think what he wants. It�s what everyone else is going to be thinking, anyway once we get back to civilization.�
Ellie averted her eyes and nodded, slowly, realizing that he was right.
�Does it bother you?� he asked.
�No, not really. I mean, everyone knew we were living together before. It just feels a little strange after all this time, especially since they�re thinking something is happening that isn�t.�
Before he could think of a response, he noticed that Miguel and his cousin were busily unloading the boxes and packages from the plane, and setting them on the landing strip. Alan pushed the hand truck toward them, and stopped it beside the stack of goods.
Miguel handed him a large ice chest carrying the perishables packed in ice, and Alan passed him the empty one. Alan opened the full one to verify the contents, and found everything to his satisfaction. �Looks like good quality hamburger meat,� he said, approvingly. �And chicken breasts. You did good, as always, Miguel.�
�Is from my wife, Juanita,� he replied. �I place the food order in her hands. She be better at things like that than I am. I get the other things.�
Ellie was looking over his shoulder, taking her own inventory. �Excellent, you remembered the whipped cream.�
�Si, Se�ora. And I have a bag of apples and some chocolate pudding. Sounds like you�re going to make some pies.�
Ellie smiled. �I�d invite you to join us ---�
He raised his hand. �Gracias, but no.� He cast a wary glance around the tree line, as if half-expecting to see a dinosaur watching them from the shadows. �I go no farther than this. We see those flying beasts again as we approached. One nearly flew right into us!�
Alan looked up with interest. �I was going to ask you about them,� he said. �So, they�re still near the coast?�
�Si, Se�or, we see several of them.�
Alan nodded, pleased. �That�s good, that�s good,� he said to Ellie. �With a little luck, maybe everything will go as planned.�
Miguel did not ask what they were planning. Instead, he helped Alan set the boxes of supplies on the four-wheeler, then went back inside the plane for one last item. He returned carrying a bundle of newspapers tied with a string. �I found some of those American newspapers you wanted.�
Alan�s face lit up, eagerly, and he reached for the bundle. On the top was a U.S.A. Today, only three days old. �Thank you, Miguel. I appreciate that.�
�My pleasure, Se�or Grant.� He handed Alan the receipts for the purchases, totaled at the bottom.
Alan glanced at them, calculating so quickly in his head that Miguel never realized that the paleontologist had just checked his figures, then he withdrew a bank voucher from his pocket and wrote in the amount on Miguel�s receipt, including the amount agreed upon for the service, then signed it with his bold scrawl, and handed it to him.
Miguel folded up the voucher and placed it in his pocket. �Gracias, Se�or Grant. We see you again in six weeks?�
�I�m not sure. With Ellie�s help, I think I�m reaching the end of my stay on this island,� Alan said, drawing a surprised glance from the paleobotanist. �I�m not sure if we�ll need another supply drop or not, but I�ll call you to let you know for sure.�
�Take care, Se�or,� Miguel advised. �It would be a shame to get this far and then . . . � His voice trailed off. �Just take care. I will talk to you soon.�
The two men shook hands, then Miguel offered a friendly hand to Ellie, and as she took it, she saw a teasing gleam in the Costa Rican man�s dark eyes. He then returned to the plane along with his cousin, and the two scientists watched as the airplane accelerated down the runway and soared back into the sky. Then, they were alone once again.
Alan placed the bundle of newspapers on top of the stack of boxes, and his eyes lingered on the overloaded four-wheeler with a sigh of dread. �This load just gets bigger and bigger,� he said. �It�s going to easily take more than twice as long to push this load back to the compound as it took us to get here.�
Ellie felt bad about the extra items she had ordered. �I�m sorry. When I ordered all this stuff for pies and cakes, I didn�t stop to think that you�d be the one pushing the hand truck all the way back to the dorm.� Rising to the challenge, she stepped beside him, and bumped him with her hip. �Move over, and I�ll help you push.�
He moved to one side and let her grasp the handle next to him, and together they began pushing the heavy hand truck toward the tree line. �Just what did you get, anyway?�
�Well, we have some fresh apples,� she began, indicating the large bag of apples that lay on top of the stack. �Look how ripe and delicious they look.� She saw him glance at her out of the corner of his eye, and knew that she had his amused attention, so she continued to play the game. �Think of how wonderful they�re going to taste in one of my homemade pies. And there are also enough that we can just eat them right off the core. We haven�t had any good fruit since we�ve been here. And I also got a couple of boxes of chocolate pudding. And I got an extra couple of bags of flour and sugar for the pies and cakes. And extra peanut butter for some more cookies, and chocolate chips --�
�Did you come here to work, or bake?� he teased.
�Well, you know as well as I do that it rains a lot here. I need something to occupy my time during those dreary days.�
�Looks like I�m going to be taking extra turns on the exercise equipment to burn off all the calories I'm going to be consuming!" he quipped.
Victoria Chavez sat nervously in the back seat of the single engine airplane, staring at the vast expanse of blue sky above them and blue-green Pacific Ocean below, through the space between the two men who occupied the front seats. She knew their names only by what they called one another: Tate and Caskey. A third man, called Reese, sat beside her on the edge of his seat, his face pressed against the window on his side of the plane. Finding no sign of land on which to set the plane down, he leaned across her lap to look out the other window. His worried expression frightened the child even more. Outside the window, the engine sputtered again, then recovered, but the pilot had told the other two men that they would have to find some land, for the plane could not go much farther.
�I thought you said there were islands around here!� Reese said, his voice trembling with panic. He slid back to his own window again and squinted into the sun�s glare on the choppy water.
�There are,� Caskey snapped, his temper heightened by his own fear. �We just have to find one!�
�If we don�t find one soon, we�re not going to have to worry about it much longer!� the pilot told them.
Tory knew what that meant. If they did not find land, they would crash in the ocean and drown. She whimpered, fearfully, clutching her doll against her, wishing her mother was there to comfort her.
�Shut up!� Caskey shouted. Whirling in his seat, he grasped the front of Tory�s blouse in his fist and pulled her closer, glaring viciously at the frightened six year old girl. �We have enough trouble without having to put up with you bawling!� He shoved her back into her seat, and released her.
Tory sniffled and choked back the sob that threatened to explode from her painfully constricted throat. She hugged her doll tightly and tried to make herself smaller on the seat.
The men were frightened, and that fact terrified the child, who looked to the adults for comfort and security. Her large brown eyes stared out the window of the plane, looking down at the water below, the surface of which seemed much closer than it should have.
Caskey was also looking down at the rough water. �What if we have to ditch in the ocean?� he asked. �How long would this thing float?�
�This type of plane is not equipped for a water landing,� the pilot answered. �It is imperative that we find land and find it soon!� After a moment of hesitation, knowing that his suggestion would not be well received, he said, �Our best bet is to notify the authorities of our position, so they can come and look for us.�
�No!� Caskey shouted. �Out of the question!�
�Look, it is not a matter of �if� this plane is going down; it�s a matter of �when�. Unless someone knows we�re out here, there is no hope of a rescue.�
�There has to be another way!� Caskey protested. �There has to ---�
�Is that an island?� Reese asked abruptly, pointing through the window on the left of the plane.
Tate looked quickly at the gray shadow on the horizon and squinted against the sun�s glare on the water. �Yes!� he exclaimed, triumphantly. �We just might get out of this alive, yet!� The yoke was vibrating violently in his hands. It was all he could do to hold the plane level, and his arms were beginning to ache from the effort. Carefully, he turned the yoke, and the plane banked to the left.
They soared over the choppy waves, continuing to gradually lose altitude as they approached the island. They were flying low, below the radar that would have alerted the Costa Rican government of intruders. They had filed no aviation flight plan, and they had taken off from the private California airfield in the middle of the night, stopping at predetermined, remote airports to refuel. Everything had been carefully planned to avoid detection by the authorities, but all three men were keenly aware of the fact that it meant there would be no rescue, for no one would know where they went down.
�Damn it! There�s no place to land!� Caskey said, fearfully as they soared between two heavily forested mountains. �There�s nothing but trees and mountain ranges!�
�I see that!� Tate replied through gritted teeth, maintaining a firm hold on the yoke and somehow managing to skim over the heavily foliated summit that jutted up from the rugged terrain. �There has to be a field or some kind of open area after we get away from these mountains. Keep a sharp eye out.�
The engine sputtered again, ominously, and briefly took a heart-stopping dive before Tate managed to pull it back into a level position. �I can�t hold it much longer,� he warned. Sweat had popped out on his forehead and beaded on his upper lip. �We have to find a place to land, now!�
The other two men were desperately searching the rugged ground below, seeking a level area on which to land. After several more minutes, Caskey pointed. �Is that a building over there?�
Tate glanced quickly at the small cluster of large buildings that dominated the valley just ahead of them. �Yeah, it is.� He studied the length and breadth of the valley in which the building has been constructed, and shook his head. �There�s no room for me to land here with those buildings. We�ll have to find someplace else to set it down.�
�I don�t see anybody down there,� Caskey said, gazing at the compound as they soared overhead. He pressed his face against the Plexiglas as he looked behind the plane. �There are cars and trucks, though, so that means people must be around somewhere, maybe in one of those buildings.�
�Maybe they�ll have some sort of communications device,� Tate suggested. �If there are people living here, then they had to have a way to get on and off this island, perhaps a boat or another plane.�
Barely managing to remain above the tree tops, the plane skimmed over the ridge, leaving the cluster of buildings, and the civilization they represented, behind. The three men continued to survey the rugged terrain, their wide eyes riveted on the ground as they searched for a possible landing place. For some distance, there was nothing below them except seemingly endless jungle. Finally, the foliage began to thin somewhat, offering small clearings with scattered clusters of trees before finally a narrow clearing opened up before them that showed some promise.
�Can you land there?� Caskey asked, leaning so far forward that he was almost speaking into the pilot�s ear. Raising his arm between the two men in the front seat, he pointed through the front windshield. �The clearing isn�t very long. Can you stop it before we hit those trees?�
�I don�t know, but we don�t have a choice,� Tate answered. �This plane isn�t going any farther. Hold on to something. We�re going down hard!�
His arms were beginning to knot from the strain of holding the disabled plane in the air. Easing forward on the yoke, he put the small craft into a relatively controlled descent, skimming close to the treetops in an effort to utilize as much of the valley as possible. The tree tops scraped the bottom of the plane with an alarming clatter, and then they were in the clearing.
They hit the ground with bone-jarring force, and the plane skidded down the valley, digging up great clumps of grassy turf as Tate tried to brake the aircraft, staring through the windshield with wide eyes as they rushed toward the trees at the far end of the clearing. Finally the plane crashed to an abrupt stop against a large tree. Caskey was hurled into the windshield, while Tate was stopped by the steering yoke. Tory and Reese slammed against the backrests of the seats in front of them. A flock of birds rose into the sky from the tree tops like a colorful cloud, squawking loudly.
Then there was silence.
Reese lifted his head to look tentatively around. The little girl was huddled on the floor between the front and rear seats. �Is everyone all right?� he asked.
Tory looked up, her face streaked with tears, and nodded.
�Tate?�
Tate groaned, painfully.
Reese rose up to look over the seat back. Tate was slumped in the pilot�s seat, his arms hugging his abdomen. His sunglasses were askew on his nose, and the headset had come off. On his right, Caskey was crumpled on the front seat against the door, apparently unconscious. Turning his attention back to the injured pilot, he asked, �Tate, you okay?� He reached out and clutched his shoulder.
Tate�s cry of pain ended in something resembling a sob. The sunglasses slipped from his nose, and landed in his lap, but he paid no heed. �Oh, God it hurts!� he groaned, pressing his arms tighter against his abdomen.
Reese knew without being told that Tate had had been flung against the steering yoke. �Try not to move around too much.� Shifting his attention back to the other man, he grasped his shoulder and shook him in an attempt to revive him. �Caskey? You okay?�
There was no answer, but Caskey was quickly forgotten as the smell of fuel reached his nostrils, inciting instant panic.
His hand sought out the door handle, but the door refused to budge. Frantically, he slammed his shoulder against it in an effort to force it open. It gave slightly, but held. He slammed against it again, and this time the door gave way sending the man tumbling onto the grass.
He jumped up, and ran away from the plane, fearful that the fuel would ignite a fire. Safely away from the aircraft, he turned back to look at it. The dust stirred up during the crash was drifting across the valley like a fog. The plane was a twisted heap of wreckage lying on its belly, its front end smashed against the huge tree that had stopped its uncontrolled momentum, but there seemed to be no sparks, no smoke, no indication at all of an impending fire. As he watched from his safe vantage point, Tory climbed hesitantly from the back seat through the open door, looking fearfully around.
Satisfied that the plane would not explode, Reese approached it again, experiencing no guilt whatsoever that he had abandoned the child to secure his own safety. Reaching inside the plane, he grabbed the plastic bag off the floor that contained the girl�s coloring book and crayons, and shoved them at her. �Go sit down over there,� he instructed, pointing to a shady spot nearby.
�M-my dolly,� she said, her voice trembling.
�I�ll get your dolly later. Right now, I have other problems. Now do as I say.�
Taking her bag of crayons, she cast one longing glance toward the plane, in which her doll still lay, then complied with Reese�s instructions. Moving into the shade, she sat down on the grass, but did not feel like coloring, so she placed the bag on the grass beside her and watched as Reese checked on the other two men.
Circling the rear of the twisted pile of metal that had brought them to the island, he pried open the co-pilot�s door and caught the unconscious man before he tumbled out the door. He set him upright in the seat again, but the man�s head lolled to one side.
�Ray? You okay?�
When there was no answer, he turned Caskey�s face toward him and saw with a start that blood was streaming copiously from a gash in his forehead. Hesitantly, he reached out and placed his fingertips against the side of his neck, and felt relieved when he felt the steady throbbing of life.
�That�s good, that�s good,� he breathed, wiping his sweaty forehead with his sleeve. �We�re all still alive.� Leaving the door open, he circled the plane again to the pilot�s side, and pulled open that door as well. �Hey, Tate, how bad�re you hurt?�
�I don�t know,� Tate groaned. �I think I busted something inside.�
�Come on; let�s get you out of this heap.� He placed his arm around the injured pilot, and assisted him to his feet. Doubled over at the waist, his arms still wrapped protectively around his middle, Tate allowed Reese to escort him away from the plane, and lowered him to the grass beside the girl. �You just lay still. I�ll see about Caskey.�
Tate rolled over onto his side and doubled up in obvious agony while Reese moved around the plane to the passenger side again.
Caskey groaned and stirred painfully, leaning toward the open door. He felt himself falling, and before he could stop himself, he tumbled onto the ground with a hard jolt that brought him fully conscious. Sitting up, he cradled his throbbing head in his hand and groaned again.
Reese hurried to his side. �Ray, are you okay?�
�What the hell happened?�
�We made it down, but ran out of landing strip and hit a tree. You hit your head on the windshield,� he added, indicating the spider-web patter of cracks in the windshield. He glanced at the pilot, who lay writhing on the ground. �I don�t think Tate�s gonna make it. He may have internal injuries; busted ribs at the very least.� He attempted to pry Caskey�s hands away from his head. �Here, let me take a look.�
�What are you, a doctor?� Caskey asked, sarcastically.
Reese released him. �Fine, take care of yourself then.� He stood up and strode back to the injured pilot.
After a few moments, Caskey struggled to his feet, and supported himself on the wreckage of the plane until he was suitably balanced, then he staggered toward the others. Stopping a short distance away, he gestured for Reese to join him.
�How�s the girl?� he asked quietly as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and applied it to the gaping wound on his temple.
Reese glanced over his shoulder at the small child, who sat by herself in the grass, looking frightened. �She�s fine. Scared, but she only has a few scratches.�
�That�s good. Salvatore will be none too happy if the girl is injured.� He paused to look at the blood on the handkerchief, feeling somewhat alarmed by the amount. �Well, got any idea what we should do from here?�
�Well, we have a couple of options. If it�s still working, we could use the airplane�s radio to call for help ��
�Out of the question,� Caskey interrupted. �They would ask a bunch of questions that we can�t afford to answer.�
� -- or we can hike down to those buildings and see if they have something useful to us.�
Caskey was no more pleased with that option than he was the first. �What do you suggest we do, waltz right in the front door and ask if we can hijack a plane or a boat?�
�Of course, not,� Reese retorted, offended. �In the first place, Tate is in no condition to pilot a plane right now, and I certainly don�t know how. I say we go in after dark and have a look around. We should be able to get a door or window open. At the very least, we should be able to steal some food and water. Maybe we can take one of those cars to get us down to the coast. There�s bound to be a boat docked up somewhere.�
�Even if there is, how do we find it? There�s a lot of coastline on this island.�
�Don�t you ever think? If they have cars, there must be some kind of road; probably not asphalt, but at least a trail leading to whatever they use to get on and off this island.�
Caskey nodded, finally agreeing, but the gesture made his head throb, which in turn was causing his stomach to churn. �All right. That�s a pretty good idea, actually. I have Salvatore�s phone number somewhere in my luggage. If they have a telephone, we should be able to call him, and he can send someone after us.�
Hope sprang to Reese�s eyes. �That�s great! I mean, if there are people living here, they�re bound to have a phone, right?�
�Right.� Caskey allowed his eyes to wander over the wilderness area in which they were stranded. �What do we do in the meantime?�
�There�s nothing we can do except wait. We have some sandwiches in the compartment. We�ll eat, rest up a bit, and then after dark, we�ll start walking.�
�All right,� Caskey agreed. �I�m going to lie down for a while. My head is killing me. I don�t suppose you have any aspirin, do you?�
Reese shook his head. �No. Sorry. With that head injury, I�m not sure you should be taking anything like that anyway. Don�t fall asleep, either. Try to stay awake.�
�Why?� Caskey asked.
�I don�t know. It�s just what I�ve always heard. People with head injuries aren�t supposed to fall asleep.�
�That�s the dumbest thing I ever heard,� Caskey retorted. �I couldn�t fall asleep anyway; my head hurts too bad.� Moving into the shade, he sat down beside the groaning pilot, and stretched out on the grass, his bloody handkerchief pressed against his temple.
Left alone, Reese stood in the sun and looked at the two injured men. Why had he allowed himself to be talked into this fiasco?
Go to Chapter 26