G Hopf: The Long Road

Unsure of himself, he decided to listen to the crew chief and took a seat. Within moments of the ramp rising, the chopper slowly lifted.

Reaching over and tugging on the crew chief’s sleeve, Sebastian asked, “Where are you taking me?”

The crew chief held up his index finger to indicate that he needed a second.

Sebastian looked over his shoulder and noticed they had banked and now were heading south. The crew chief finished what he was doing and approached him. To Sebastian’s surprise, he handed him a headset. Sebastian took it and put it on.

“This is Corporal Van Zandt,” Sebastian said into mic.

“Hello, Corporal. This is First Lieutenant Wasserman. Gunny Smith asked us to give you a ride to wherever you needed to go.”

Sebastian’s eyes opened wide at what Gunny had done for him. He just looked at the crew chief with astonishment.

“Corporal, you there?” Wasserman asked.

“Ah, yes, sir. Um? Keep heading south. Do you know where Carmel Valley is?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Sir, the best route to where I need to go is take the coast till you can see Highway 56, then head east.”

“Roger that, Corporal. I’ll ask for further directions once we start heading east,” Wasserman said.

The headset went silent. Sebastian took it off and just held it. “What do ya know?” he said to himself with a grin on his face. Too excited to relax, he turned around so he could see out the small window. He looked down on the houses that spotted the shoreline. One thing he noticed was the absence of people. Even though it was starting to get dark, there was enough light out for those runners or walkers who liked to take to the beach just after work or those who wanted to glimpse the setting sun. They passed familiar landmarks along the beach until he recognized one that meant he was close to heading east: the long strand called San Elijo State Beach. He put the headset back on and said, “Lieutenant Wasserman, I think we can head east sooner. I can guide us to where you need to go.”

“Roger that, Corporal, let me know where,” Wasserman replied.

“When we get to the end of the long beach, bank east-southeast.”

“Roger that.”

Sebastian was getting a bit concerned because the sun was now below the horizon and soon it would be dark. The pilot was on mark and banked the chopper east-southeast. Sebastian walked over to the other side of the chopper so he could see the landmarks. He saw the road he was looking for. Lomas Santa Fe would lead him east enough. Then all he had to do was turn south and he’d be right on top of Gordon’s neighborhood. Wasserman had lowered the chopper enough that Sebastian could see a small group of people clearly in a cul-de-sac; looking more intently, he thought they had rifles. Really focusing on them, he noticed two of them had the rifles on their shoulders.

“Oh, shit; go higher, go higher!” Sebastian yelled into the mic.

No response came from Wasserman. A few streaking flashes confirmed that they were being shot at.

“Lieutenant Wasserman, we’re being shot at, go higher!” Sebastian yelled again.

No response again, but Wasserman did what Sebastian said. Still looking down, Sebastian could see what appeared to be more men and more flashes, followed by loud panging on the upper fuselage. They kept going higher and higher until the chopper shuddered and dropped, causing a feeling of weightlessness. Sebastian was pushed into the ceiling and hit his head. The chopper regained power and stopped its fall for only a moment before he heard the engine winding down.

Lying on his back, Sebastian had an uneasy feeling, which grew worse when black smoke entered the chopper from outside. He got to his knees but was thrown down again when the chopper banked hard to the left. He rolled across the floor and slammed into the webbing. He reached out and grabbed it to hold himself; the chopper was now on its side and falling out of the sky. He could see the ground through the open window.

More shuddering and the engine fired up again; he could hear the blades start to spin. The chopper stabilized but was not far off the ground. He crawled up onto the webbing and looked out the window. They couldn’t be more than two hundred feet from the ground. Fear had gripped Sebastian. He thought that after all the fighting to get home, this was how he would die, and only a few miles from Gordon’s house. He looked outside but did not know where they were.

“Sir, what’s our game plan?” Sebastian asked.

“No time to chat, Corporal. We need to try to get this bird back to the Makin Island .”

“What about me?”

“Sorry, Corporal. I need to get back if I can.”

Just then the chopper banked to the left and started to head north.

Sebastian tore the headset off and tossed it in anger. He lay back against the wall and yelled, “Damn it!”

They hadn’t flown for two minutes before the same violent shuddering returned. Again, black smoke poured in and the props stopped. Gravity took over, and the chopper dropped. Sebastian held on to his seat and looked at the crew chief, who was busily strapping himself down. Sebastian knew the ground was coming fast, and the anticipation of impact was intense. He wondered how it would feel. He wondered if he would die. Of course , he thought. How many people fall out of the sky in a huge helicopter and walk away?

The first impact stopped his thoughts. Whatever they hit forced the chopper to turn 120 degrees and jarred Sebastian. He lost his grip and flew to the other side of the chopper. The second impact tipped the rear end up. Sebastian slid across the deck and slammed into the front wall. All he could think they were hitting was large trees; that meant the ground and final impact were close. Dazed, he scrambled to find something stable to hold on to, but his search was futile. The helicopter slammed nose-first into the ground, tipping over onto its back before settling on its side. Remarkably, the chopper was almost intact; the propellers had been sheared off and the fuselage crushed, but it didn’t break in two despite the multiple collisions.

Sebastian awoke to an unfamiliar face. His vision was blurry, so making out clearly who it was was impossible. A sharp pain shot up from his right leg. He knew he was not okay, but at least he was alive. He blinked repeatedly in the hope that his vision would clear, but it didn’t work.

“This one is alive!” the person yelled.

Sebastian tried to speak but couldn’t. He then attempted to move but was met with severe pain. He winced and stopped his attempts at talking and moving.

“Over here, he needs help, now!” the person said, squatting down next to him.

Opening his eyes again, Sebastian noticed it was a young woman, her light blond hair pulled back into a long ponytail. He reached toward her face, but she grabbed his hand and brought it back down.

“Just rest, we’ll take care of you,” she reassured him.

Sebastian felt safe, but then again, there wasn’t much he could do. He closed his eyes and passed out.

Barstow, California

“You can’t be the one who always runs off and does everything! We needed you here. Hunter and Haley needed you!” Samantha screamed at Gordon.

They were in their trailer; the kids were both lying in bed resting from the earlier ordeal. Gordon had led the convoy farther up the road, then headed across the desert away from the town of Barstow. Adhering to their plan, they circled the vehicles at night. Moving under the cover of darkness might be beneficial, but Gordon felt it was too risky. Even though the attack today had been conducted during daylight hours, traveling during the day allowed them at least the chance to see an ambush or questionable situation. The darkness provided too much cover for those who wished to do harm.