Tail Spin Page 4

Was Cudlow Valley long enough and flat enough to land a plane? She had no idea, she’d never learned to fly. She watched the wings straighten, pictured the pilot willing his plane to a sloping trajectory, lower and lower. She held her breath, and prayed.

An explosion rocked the small plane, nearly flipping it over, and it began to spiral, out of control.

FOUR

Unbelievably, the pilot wrenched it back in line. The next second, the engine went dead and the small single-engine plane dropped like a stone. She knew she was going to watch him die, there was no way he could bring it in. But somehow, somehow, he caught an air current and managed to glide the dying plane forward and down until the wheels finally touched the ground. The plane bounced and lurched, the front came up, then slammed down again. It jerked and shuddered before coming to a rolling stop not fifty feet from where she stood at the very end of the valley. Smoke gushed out and the flames licked higher.

Rachael started running toward the plane even as she saw the pilot kick open the door and struggle to drag an unconscious man across the seat and out the narrow door. She didn’t know how he did it, but he did. He hauled the man over his shoulder and began to run away from the plane.

He stumbled and went down. The unconscious man flew over his head and landed hard, his head striking a clump of rocks. He didn’t move. The plane exploded into a bright orange ball, flames gushing high into the air, spewing parts of the plane in every direction. She saw the pilot pull himself up and stagger toward the unconscious man. What looked like part of the tail struck his leg and he went down, and this time he stayed down.

It was terrifying, Rachael thought—life or death, all decided in under two minutes. She’d had maybe another minute.

She reached the unconscious man first and dropped to her knees. He lay on his back, motionless, eyes closed. He was slight, and older, near fifty, and there was blood on his head and all over his chest. She pressed her fingers to his throat. He was alive, but his pulse was faint. She lightly shook him. “Can you open your eyes?”

He didn’t move. She sat back on her heels. Without thinking, she took off her leather jacket and covered him as best she could.

Her head whipped up when she heard the pilot groan. She was at his side in a moment, looking down at his smoke-blackened face, blood matting the dark hair against the side of his head, a thick trickle of blood snaking down from his left ear. There was blood oozing out of a tear in his pants where part of the tail had slashed into him. He wasn’t moving.

Please don’t die, please don’t die. She couldn’t stand any more death.

Rachael lightly laid her hand on his shoulder, shook him slightly, but he didn’t move. She felt his arms, his legs. Nothing seemed broken, but inside he could be seriously hurt. He was much younger than the other man, around her age, big and fit. He wore a black leather jacket similar to hers over a white shirt and tie, black pants, low black boots. She lightly slapped his face. “Please, wake up.”

He moaned, jerked onto his back. She leaned close, slapped his cheek again. “Come on, wake up. You can do it. I can’t lift you by myself and I’m alone. The other man is unconscious and he needs your help. Wake up. Please.” She slapped his face harder.

A hand grabbed her wrist.

She yelped but he didn’t release her.

Jack opened his eyes. Long straight hair brushed his face, hair the color of sunlight. Blond and brown and gold, with one skinny braid running down the side, and he tried to lift his hand to touch it, but he couldn’t get his arm up there. He said, “I like the braid. I’ve never seen that before. You pack quite a punch.”

“Yes, well, sorry, but you have to wake up. I’ve got to get you and your friend medical help. Where are you hurt? What happened?”

To her surprise, he actually smiled. “Am I dead? Are you an angel? No, you’re not an angel, your hair’s too pretty and that braid—angels don’t wear braids like that. And you’ve got dirt on your nose.”

“I’d like to be an angel but I guess that would mean you’re imagining me, and thank God you’re not. I’m Rachael.” She swiped at her nose. “There’s a cut that’s bleeding above your left temple; it’s only a trickle now. I saw part of the plane tail hit you, knock you down. Your right thigh is bleeding pretty bad. We need to put pressure on it.”

“Use my tie.”

She pulled off his bright red tie with little colorful squiggles on it and eased it under his leg. “Tell me when you think it’s tight enough,” and she pulled.

“That’ll get it. Knot it good. Anything broken?”

“No, not as far as I can tell, but I’m not a doctor.”

“Usually broken bones tend to be pretty obvious.”

“There’s your innards. Anything could be going on inside you.”

He was silent a moment, communing, she supposed, with his insides. “Feels okay, so far.”

“Good. I’m not a pilot, either, but I watched you bring that plane down. I have no idea how you managed it, but you did. That was amazing. I’ve never been so scared. Well, maybe one other time.” Just last Friday night, as a matter of fact. Insanely, she wanted to laugh.

He looked up at her, managed a smile. “Hey, since I walked away—well, ran away—I won’t call it a crash, but it was definitely what I’d term a forced landing.” He frowned, and she realized he was barely hanging on. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw this valley. I thought for sure we’d end up slamming into a mountain and some archaeologist would find us in a couple hundred years.”

“I don’t think you should count on that much luck ever happening again in your life. I’m sorry to tell you, but your plane’s pretty much destroyed. So’s your cool tie, now that it’s got blood all over it.”

He dropped her wrist. “A bomb.” His voice was faint now.

“No, no, don’t fade out on me again. You’ve got to wake up, you’ve got to help me.” She leaned real close. “Look at me. What’s your name? That’s it, concentrate on your name. You can do it.” A bomb? He said there was a bomb? Well now, wasn’t that great, just great.

“My name’s Jack.”

“Okay, Jack. You hang in. We’re going to get to my car, you’ll at least be safe there and warmer than you are here.”

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