Beyond Control (38 page)

“Veronica! Mom! Veronica!” I kept hollering. “Where are you?”

“Ma’am, help has arrived. They’re making their way down the trail. I’m going to stay on the phone until they reach you.”

My body crumpled. Falling on my knees, the tears began pouring down my face. This couldn’t be happening. I turned off my phone. The police were almost to the beach, and I didn’t need the operator to hear my cries. The police chatter of CB radios began rolling through the air mixed with the barks of the K-9 units.

This was a nightmare. There was no way this could be happening. My eyes darted back to the hilltop that I had just left. A man was standing on the hill, watching me, with the darkness working in his favor.

“Hey,” I yelled, looking at him, trying to see any sort of distinguishing features. He froze in place.

I jumped back to my feet, with my jeans soaked from where I had been sitting. I started running up to the hill, and the stranger took off.

“Miss!” a policeman yelled.

“Someone was watching me!” I cried, not stopping my run. “They might have my mom!”

I reached the top of the hill in a flash, and there was no one to be seen.

A policeman came up right behind me.

“Are you, Triss?” His voice was gentle, probably used to dealing with lunatics, not sure which way they were headed in any given situation. “I’m Officer White.”

“Yes, my mom. She’s not here.” The tears started again. “I was supposed to meet her and all that’s here are her things. I can’t find her. Clothes, wallet, jewelry are all that’s here.” I took a deep breath. “Then there was a guy, I think staring at me.”

“Where at?” he asked immediately.

“Right here,” I replied. “He was standing right here. I think it was a guy. That’s why I came this way. It’s so dark it’s hard to tell. I was sitting on the beach right before you got here and noticed the person.”

“Where are your mother’s things, Triss?” he asked, scanning the area and coming up with the same thing as me, nothing. There was no one here.

I pointed over to the beach, completely defeated.

He nodded and looked briefly at the ground for any sign of tracks besides mine; he then turned to the officers at the base of the hill and signaled for them to wait.

We walked back down the hill, and Officer White explained to the others the situation. I had no idea how he got so much from my few sentences. He pointed at the two officers who were in control of the German shepherds, and he motioned for me to come with them to where my mom’s belongings had been dumped by my carelessness.

“Triss, we are going to allow our K-9 members, Sunny and Brandy, to smell some of your mother’s items, okay?” Officer White asked, looking intensely into my eyes. He had to be well over six feet tall and commanded the attention of anyone who looked in his direction.

All I could do was nod. It felt like if I even opened my mouth to breathe, I would break down again.

One of the female officers, who had her hair pulled back in a severe ponytail, came over to me and touched my shoulder softly. She quieted her chattering CB on her belt.

“Is there someone we can call for you?” she asked.

“My aunt,” I muttered, staring off over the darkened sound again, my eyes filling with tears.

One of the other female officers gave commands to Sunny and Brandy and off they went in the direction of the hill. The very same hill I had just come from with Officer White. They were racing off into the distance with the humans following right behind. My mom had been in that area. The dogs caught her scent.

It seemed like hours, but Aunt Vieta finally arrived. Her eyes wide with horror from the scene she witnessed in the parking lot. I couldn’t even begin to count how many police and search and rescue arrived. There were divers already out in the ocean, and everywhere I turned, there was activity.

I had shutdown. I was merely operating on autopilot. Aunt Vieta started running toward me and scooped me into her arms.

“We’ll find her, Triss. We’ll find her,” she kept mumbling into my ear, but it did little to comfort me.

“I know we will,” I nodded in agreement.

She released me and stood back looking at me.

“Here, I thought you might be freezing.” She shoved a coat into my arms that she had tied around her waist.

“Officer White’s over there,” I said, pointing toward his direction. He was busy getting updates from the teams that had spread in various directions. “He’d be the best person to fill you in. I don’t think I could.”

I appreciated my aunt’s presence, but I would rather just sit on the beach listening to everyone’s updates, hoping I would find something out that would bring my mom back immediately. Instead, I was bombarded with statistics about the longer the victim was missing how exponentially the odds of finding them decreased. I doubt that was for me to hear, but I did. And those words would forever haunt me.

“The waters are getting a little rough. We’ll start again in the morning,” were the first of many sentences that etched a place in my mind, creating a level of despair I didn’t think possible.

The Cessna 180 engine rumbled through the small six-seat aircraft cabin, but unfortunately it did little to block out the words of the other passengers. I glared at the back of the Captain who was lucky enough to be wearing a headset.

“I’d love to see what’s under her jacket.” I heard the guy behind me say to no one in particular.

“I’ll second that, and I bet we’ll get the chance,” another one said.

The gnawing in my stomach only grew with every passing minute, but there was nothing I could do. I was stuck in a plane where I could literally touch the pilot. I didn’t need to start something that I couldn’t finish and have the plane crash because I couldn’t handle a little heckling.

I looked out the small, oval window pressing my head against the cold glass covered in water droplets. I couldn’t really see anything out the window because the weather was so bad. It was like we were trapped in one continuous rain cloud that was sent from the Gods to mess with me.

Getting tired of seeing nothing but ominous grey, I looked down at the pamphlet hoping the description would magically change, but I wasn’t that lucky. My fingers trembled as I silently read the overview once more.

The ReBoot program is a juvenile camp for mid-range offenders who have yet to become established criminals. Youth in their mid to late teen years are often responsive to this type of program which includes occupational training and behavior rehabilitation. We’ve found that the potential criminals at our work camp for forestry and conservation in Southeast Alaska never become repeat offenders. We generally only accept less dangerous delinquents but all cases are subject for review.

I loved the ‘yet to become established criminals’ part, as if the first time around didn’t really count for these misfits. I so didn’t belong here. It wasn’t like I needed to be reminded that my newfound campmates weren’t savory characters. All I had to do was turn around in my tiny airplane seat to see their predator eyes taking me in.

I couldn’t believe my mom let this happen to me. There’s no way she could have been fooled into thinking this was a conservation-slash-forestry camp… although I was fooled. I actually thought my stepdad was trying to do something nice for me, for once.

God! I hated my stepfather, and he obviously hated me. This was his last sendoff before I went to college, and it was a doozey. As if living with him since my father’s death wasn’t horrible enough, he just wanted one more way to stick it to me.

The tin can I was riding in suddenly took a plunge, and all of the instruments went berserk. Gasps and whines filled the air as the high-pitched warning beeps sounded through our tiny capsule. My hands immediately became clammy as my heart raced. There was no calming down in a situation like this, especially when a person was born as jumpy as I was. My fingers gripped the armrest so hard that my nails hurt, and I took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly.

“It’s okay, everyone. Just a little turbulence,” the pilot told us as the beeps silenced, but the heavy breathing from everyone continued long after his announcement.

I was tempted to turn around in my seat and gloat at all of the guys who were big and tough only a few minutes ago and suddenly turned to pansies, but the Cessna took another huge dip, sounding the bells and whistles again. Man! I hated small planes. Actually, I don’t even think this would qualify as a small plane, more like a car that could fly.

As the beads of water continued rolling down the tiny window, I noticed we had begun our descent.
Finally!

“We’ll be landing in approximately fifteen minutes,” the pilot said as he continued adjusting controls.

Things were looking up. The dampness on my palms began to evaporate, and I looked back out the window as our plane flew barely above the treetops. The conifers looked like a brightly massed green quilt underneath us. Turning my head in any direction gave way to a completely different landscape. Alongside the deep green woodlands, there were rocky peaks, and monstrous cliffs that trees avoided calling home. If I wasn’t so scared to death, I might be able to appreciate the beauty of everything.

I maneuvered my head so that I could see out the pilot’s window. Directly in front of us there was a grassy field with small ponds surrounding it, or at least I think they were small ponds. I craned my neck as far as possible searching for the airport. Not only did I not see any buildings, I didn’t see any sort of landing strip.

But I did catch a huge bear. I’m sure it was a bear. There was nothing else that big that walked on all fours.

“Whoa, check it out,” one of the guys behind me said.

“That thing’s huge,” the guy next to him said. “I could totally take it down.”

I couldn’t handle it any longer.

“Why don’t you? I’d love to see it,” I taunted without looking behind me. There was no way I’d undo my seatbelt in transportation like this even if it meant I couldn’t give him my best scowl.

“She does speak,” he replied sarcastically.

Gritting my teeth, I watched as we passed by the brown bear with the plane descending at what felt like record speed.

“Please make sure your seatbelts are fastened. I’ll make the landing as pleasant as possible,” the pilot told us.

What? Landing? There’s no runway!

This can’t be possible. I’ve got a bear as an official greeter and our plane was landing on gravel or dirt or something. The only saving grace of this observation was that it kept the other passengers on the plane as silent as me.

I continued to watch the pilot pulling and pushing on things, and realized I really didn’t want to see how little control he had over the situation. I’m sure he felt he had it handled, but from this viewpoint it was utterly terrifying. I clamped my eyes shut just in time to feel the plane shudder as the wheels began to touch down.

There was nothing smooth about it as our plane briefly greeted the gravel before pushing back up, only to quickly meet again with the surface below. It felt like a rollercoaster that had no tracks and no intention of stopping. Our plane continued to jump and skip its way down the non-existent runway. I slowly peeled open one eye and watched as we whipped by the tall grass and water finally coming to a slow stop.

The guys’ celebratory hollers were deafening. They began throwing off their seatbelts, but I refused to budge. The pilot turned around and I wanted to hug him, but I restrained myself. Instead I looked out the window at the wilderness wondering if I’d survive.

“I’ll be around to open the door, and the CLs should be here to greet you any minute. It’s best if you don’t wander off,” the pilot instructed.

“CLs?” I asked, turning my attention back to him.

“Camp Leaders,” he responded, his eyes connecting with mine. He opened his door and got out of the plane.

“Newbie. We’ve got a newbie on our hands,” the guy sitting directly behind me shouted, kicking my seat.
What was he, twelve?

“I wonder if that makes her a newbie in all areas? I can’t wait to find out,” he continued.

That was it! My seatbelt came flying off, and I leaned over the back of my seat, grabbing the guy’s shirt, surprising him and myself. I was gripping the fabric so tightly I raised him slightly off his seat. He looked to be a year or so younger than me with blond hair that was greased back. His clothing was ten times too big for him, but he was still bigger than me.