BD looked on, unable to gather her thoughts, paralyzed, ears ringing, stomach churning.
Dr. Gillespie grabbed her shoulder and shook her. “Are you hurt?”
Dazed, BD shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”
He pointed in the direction they’d come a short time ago. “Then run for all you’re worth. See if you can catch that ranger with the pack horses we passed half an hour ago. Tell him we have three injured and need help. Go! Now!”
BD called on stamina she didn’t know she possessed. She raced down the trail yelling for help as she ran, stumbled, fell and rose again. Hot tears stung her eyes. She fell to her knees and threw up, wiped her forearm across her mouth and ran again.
Finally she spotted the ranger with his horses. She yelled as loud as she could to stop him as they plodded down the trail. “Help! Please help! Stop!” Her heart threatened to burst from her burning chest.
The ranger turned and looked up the trail, his hand shading his eyes against the suddenly bright sunlight. He turned the horses and headed toward BD.
She blurted her ragged, disjointed call for help.
He pulled out his radio and contacted his station. He asked for a Medivac helicopter with an emergency technician to meet them at the trailhead. He would bring down three injured hikers on his packhorses. If that wasn’t possible, he’d wait with them for the mountain rescue team. He informed them Dr. Gillespie was tending the injured hikers as best he could without adequate medical equipment or supplies.
He gave BD some water. “You can climb on one of the horses and go back up there with me or continue on down and wait for the helicopter. You’re not far from the trailhead.”
Scared and ashamed that she was afraid to go to the top where her brother and nephew lay, maybe dead by now, she blinked at the ranger. “I’ll wait for the helicopter.”
The man nodded and started up the trail with his horses.
BD crumpled to her knees. Scalding tears streaked her cheeks, dripping onto her dirty rain- and sweat-soaked camp shirt.
Stumbling down the deserted trail, visions of Jack’s white, cold face haunted her. Dr. Gillespie had left Chase to care for Jack. Chase must be dead. BD couldn’t come to grips with the enormity of the disaster which had overwhelmed her family.
* * *
To the great disappointment of his charges, Rafi cut an hour from the flightseeing tour for the day. With the whipping wind and threatening storm he returned to Jackson airport, but promised the boys they’d do the trip another day.
The young princes jumped down from the four-passenger helicopter and headed for the terminal. An urgent voice crackled in Rafi’s ear phones. “Pilot, pilot, we have an emergency medical evacuation for the Death Canyon trailhead near the Moose Wilson Road. Can you take the call?”
Rafi turned his head to watch the prince’s sons enter the terminal. “I have four young passengers who need to be returned to their family in Teton Village. I’m responsible for them. I can’t leave them. Where’s your Medivac?”
“On the way to Idaho Falls Regional Medical Center. We’re advised to find alternate rescue. The physician and mountain rescue team on site have determined the injuries are too serious to wait for the helo’s return. We’ll take care of your passengers.”
“Don’t let those boys out of your sight until Prince Faysal sends an escort for them.”
“I’ve sent a security guard. We’ll hold them in a secure area. Repeat, pilot, can you take the call?”
Rafi started his engine. “I’m on it.” He knew exactly the location of the trailhead. As the shiny black Robinson R44 lifted off the tarmac he flew fast and low, banking north and west. It should take no more than five minutes to the trailhead parking lot.
On approach to the landing area a large group of emergency vehicles and people clustered to one side. A ranger waved, directing Rafi to land, and ran toward the copter as he set it down.
Rafi shouted, “What have you got?”
“Two hikers struck by lightning. A man and a small child. The man is awake, the child hasn’t regained consciousness.”
“Jesus! Are they going to make it?”
“The man looks OK. The doc doesn’t know about the little boy.”
“Where am I taking them? St. John’s?”
“No, they’re not equipped for it. These people need to go to Eastern Idaho Regional. How’s your fuel?”
“I’ve got enough for two hours and a four-hundred-mile reserve tank. Is that enough to get me there?”
“Yes, plenty. A member of the mountain rescue team will accompany you. Here they come now. Good luck.”
Men with two stretchers ran toward the helicopter, two women ran close behind. Stunned, Rafi identified BD and her sister-in-law, Kelly. “Oh, no, my God, what happened?”
Beautiful stared in his direction. When she recognized him she stopped running. An expression of frozen shock and disbelief covered her tear-streaked face. She resumed running, raised her arms, and called out. He couldn’t hear over the sound of the chopper, but he knew she was shouting his name. Sheer joy replaced the devastation on her ravaged face. She ran, shouting, waving, crying, and smiling.
He wanted nothing more than to run to her and sweep her into his arms, but he couldn’t leave the bird. He extended a hand to her, called her name.
She grasped his hand and pressed her cheek to his knuckles. “Rafi, is it really you?” Tears streamed down her dirty cheeks.
Before he could reply, the rescue team loaded the stretcher holding Jack across the two back seats. The Mountain Rescue guy took the seat next to Rafi. A man in hiking gear handed across the still form of little Chase. Rafi swallowed and choked back tears. “I have to go, Beautiful.” Reluctantly he released her hand.
BD let go and shouted above the sound of the rotors, “I’ll take Kelly and drive Jack’s car over the pass. We’ll meet you at the medical center. Please don’t leave until I get there.”
The copter lifted. “I’ll see you there.” Rafi turned to the rescuer and extended a hand. “Rafi Cruz. Point the way.”
“Norbert Clark. Go over Rendezvous Mountain, across the Jedediah Smith Wilderness, straight for the Idaho border.” He pointed. “That way.” He looked down at the group on the ground. “You know that woman back there?”
His jaw set in a hard line, Rafi nodded. “She’s my girl. That’s her nephew you’re holding, and the man in back is her brother.” He twisted his head to look at Jack. “Jack! It’s Rafi Cruz, can you hear me?”
Immobilized in a neck brace, a bloody dressing covered Jack’s right shoulder. His lips moved silently. He raised his hand in a weak wave.
The ranger was surprised. “You all up here together?”
“No. It’s a coincidence.” Rafi shook his head. “A hell of a coincidence.”
“I’ll say.”
Rafi glanced at Chase. “Is that little guy going to make it?”
“The doctor wouldn’t speculate. He hasn’t regained consciousness since the lightning strike caught both of them. The sooner we get to the hospital, the sooner we’ll know. They have a level two trauma center—they know we’re coming.”
The gravity of the situation sank into Rafi like a sack of stones. Every now and then he’d glance at Chase or Jack. He wasn’t a man prone to prayer, but he prayed now. In his head he recited every prayer he could remember, even making a reflexive cross on his chest.
Once past Rendezvous Mountain, thousands of acres of the Jedediah Smith wilderness spread in an endless green carpet beneath them. He caught a glimpse of a stream, meadow, or river, but mostly trees, trees and more trees.
The helicopter gave a sickening lurch, descended in a downward spiral. Rafi worked the controls frantically. He grabbed the radio microphone. “Jackson, Jackson, this is helo JG5032A. Do you read me? Mayday, Mayday.”
The terrified mountain rescue man next to him clutched Chase to his chest. “What’s happening?”
The response crackled in Rafi’s earphones. “We read you. What is the nature of your emergency?”
Rafi struggled with the controls. “Tail rotor failure. We’re going down, Jackson.” The aircraft spun, lurched, and lost altitude at dizzying speed. Rafi shouted the coordinates as he worked desperately to bring the bird down without flipping it.
Behind Rafi, Jack groaned with terror. The MR man, Norbert, grasped the handle above his door and squeezed his eyes closed. His upper body lowered over Chase, he held on for all he was worth. Rafi’s pulse thundered in his ears as he used every bit of skill he could muster to get the chopper down with as little damage as possible. There was no way this bird would ever fly out of here.
They hurtled down through splintering, rifle shot sounds of tree limbs, the big rotor ripping apart around them. The aircraft hit the ground with a jarring thump, bounced, and stopped at a sickening angle. After a moment Rafi raised his head. The ranger had lost hold of Chase. The little boy lay in a heap at his feet. One of the seats had broken and Jack’s stretcher slid precipitously toward a gap in the side of the aircraft.
“Jack! Jack, are you OK?” No answer.
Rafi flipped off his harness and reached for Chase. Norbert groaned and grabbed his right shoulder. When his head fell back, a good-size gash across the bridge of his nose oozed blood.
“Norbert! Don’t move. Can you hold the boy?”
The man nodded as a sob rasped in his throat. “Yes, give him to me. Are we on the ground?”
Rafi turned and kicked open his door. “I’m about to have a look.” Holding on, he leaned out as far as possible. “We’re on solid ground. Thank God.” He reached for the radio, but it was dead. “Great! I sure as hell hope they heard those coordinates or can pick up our emergency beacon.”
He stepped out with caution, grunted at a jolt of pain in his lower back. Turning, he extended his arms for Chase. “Give me the boy. Can you check on Jack?”
Norbert Clark twisted gingerly in his seat. Jack’s eyes popped open when he touched his face. “How you doing, buddy?”
Jack groaned, gasped for air, and managed an affirmative grunt. “Chase.” His voice was raspy. “Where’s my son?”
“I have him. He’s breathing. I think he’s OK.”
“You’ve got to go for help, Cruz,” Norbert said, “There’s a US Forest Service airport near the Moose Creek ranger station.” He pointed. “That’s Moose Creek over there. The airport’s a few miles that way. Do you think you can make it?”
Rafi placed Chase on the pilot’s seat, brushed at his clothes, and felt his body for injuries. He was missing a boot. Except for the pain in his back he seemed whole. He shook his arms and legs. Found the boot, dropped it on the ground, and pushed his foot into it. “I’ll sure as hell try. Is the airport manned?”
The ranger shook his head and winced with pain. “No. It’s used for forest fire equipment and other emergencies. It sits on a rise above Moose creek. It has a landing strip and a short runway. There’s limited aircraft parking, and there should be people around this time of year. Hunters and fishermen fly in.”
Rafi reached for Chase. “I’m taking him with me. God knows when a rescue party will get here. Are you all right to stay with Jack?”
“Yes. I’ve got a gear bag with food and water. We’ll stay right here and wait.” He handed Rafi a bottle. “Here’s some water.”
Rafi stuffed the water bottle in a back pocket. He took Chase, rearranged the blanket covering him, and brushed his lips across the boy’s pale cheeks. “I’ll get help to you as soon as possible.” He took off in the direction of Moose Creek.
The rough uneven terrain was hard going. He walked, and ran when he could, along the creek for over a mile before he stopped to rest. With the water bottle to his lips he heard brush breaking and a menacing grunt. A large black bear with two cubs stood tall and growled a terrifying warning.
“Oh, shit.” Rafi jumped to his feet, stood tall and held his arms high while talking softly to the mother bear. “OK, mama, OK. We don’t want to get near your babies. It’s OK. Go away now. Go away.” He made himself appear as big and menacing as possible.
The mama bear paused.
“That’s good, that’s good. Go away now.” Rafi stood stock still, praying she’d leave.
The bear moved, hesitated, and then crashed forward on all fours. Rafi fell to the ground and curled into a tight ball around Chase.
The bear was on him. She raked her claws across his back, ripping his shirt and his flesh. Growling, she thumped him on the head and kicked to turn him over. Her claws tore into his neck. Pain seared like a white hot branding iron between his shoulders. He gritted his teeth against agony, pretending to be dead, and tightened his clutched arms around Chase. Rafi clung to his consciousness by a thread. Barely breathing, his body served as protective armor for the little boy beneath him.
After a few more whacks and kicks, the bear sniffed, growled, and backed away, apparently no longer considering him a threat to her cubs. She huffed, snorted, and crashed back through the brush to where she’d left them.
Not daring to move, breathing shallow, Rafi waited until he heard nothing but the sound of the creek burbling across rocks and the scream of an osprey high overhead.
Cautiously he raised his head and pushed painfully to his knees. He checked Chase for injury, relieved his body was warm and unmarked.
Working against his misery he reached for the water bottle. Barely able to tilt his head far enough to drink, he gulped twice and choked. Taking a few calming breaths, he tried again and got some water down.
Rafi tore off a strip of cloth from the bottom of his ruined shirt. He poured water into the cloth, opened Chase’s lips by pulling gently on his chin, and squeezed some drops of water into the unconscious child’s mouth. His heart leaped when the little boy’s throat moved to swallow the precious drops. “That’s my boy, Chase. That’s Uncle Rafi’s big boy.”
After giving the child a few more drops of water he struggled to his feet. Staggering on in a mist of agony, he followed Moose Creek to the west, his back and neck racked with searing pain. Mosquitoes and flies drove him nuts, but he held Chase close and kept walking.
The sun was full in his face when he detected the sound of a small aircraft engine overhead. He sat down on the ground and raised his head to follow the grinding of the motor. A plane appeared over the edge of a rise and banked west. The airport had to be on top of that rise.