Dana Mentink - Turbulence

They weren’t carrying the box. It must be in the pile they hurled just before the plane exploded. She darted toward the wreck, shielding her face from the heat. “I’ve got to move it away from the fire.”

Paul put the gear down and followed her. “Maddie, it’s not there.”

She continued on, eyes searching, straining for a glimpse of the metal box. “Leave me alone, Paul.”

He spoke louder. “We couldn’t get it.”

The intensity finally penetrated. “What do you mean? You said you found it.”

Paul looked at her and she could see the flames mirrored in his eyes.

“The metal shell of the tail section collapsed in on itself while we searched. It’s welded shut from the heat. We couldn’t get to it. We couldn’t save your father’s heart.”

Paul ignored the snow that fell in a steady curtain around him. He had eyes only for Maddie and the anguish that played over her face. She took a step backward and he thought she would tumble, so he reached out a hand for her.

She stiffened. “Please,” she whispered. “Leave me alone.” She turned and walked to the shelter of a thick pine tree. Her shoulders slumped, head down, defeat written in the lines of her body.

Paul started after her, but Jaden stopped him. “Let her have a minute, Dr. Ford.”

“She’s hurting.”

Jaden shrugged. “If we don’t come up with a plan here pretty quick, it isn’t going to matter.”

Paul stared at Jaden and then at Dr. Wrigley, who cradled his shoulder and grimaced. The snow fell harder, piling into puffs around them. The sky darkened to a dull slate, though Paul’s cracked watch showed the time to be just after noon. He shot one more glance at Maddie. She hadn’t moved. He fought the urge to go to her. It was time to start thinking triage, prioritize what they would need to do to keep all four of them alive. “Okay. Let’s talk this out.”

Jaden nodded. “Search-and-rescue is probably mobilizing, but it may take a while for them to find us, and there’s a storm coming, so they won’t risk losing aircraft. I’m guessing we’re on our own at least until morning.”

Paul raised an eyebrow. “You former military or something?”

A glimmer of a smile played on Jaden’s lips. “You wouldn’t believe the great training Heartline provides its employees.”

Paul folded his arms. “Uh-huh.” He turned his focus to the surroundings. The temperature was dropping steadily, and exposure would kill them first. He scanned the terrain. Steep snow-covered slopes rose on either side, studded with enormous trees. The main body of the plane was now completely engulfed in flame, belching out toxic smoke into the thin air.

Paul reviewed the survival training he’d taken in his backpacking phase. “Shelter first. We’ve got to find something to get us out of the storm.” As he spoke, he removed his belt and buckled it into a circle. He hung it over Wrigley’s neck and helped him gingerly rest his injured arm in the makeshift sling. Wrigley nodded his thanks, his face pained.

Jaden grunted. “Right. Dr. Wrigley, keep moving around, see if you can get a signal on your phone. It’s doubtful, but worth trying.” He pointed to a ridge of rock that thrust upward through the snow. “Let’s check there for any kind of covered area.”

“I’m on it.” Paul made sure Maddie was still safe under the tree before he plowed through the snow toward the shadowed rocks. Sinking to his knees every few steps, Paul floundered along until he reached the base of the rock which had long ago tumbled loose from the towering mountain peak. He picked his way from one rock—up and over—onto the next, in search of some indentation, any kind of rocky depression that might screen them from the elements.

He slipped on an iced-over patch and loosened a shower of rubble that rained down onto the snow.

Careful, Ford. Let’s not get taken out by a bunch of rocks, especially when you just survived a plane crash. That part still seemed surreal. Had the pilot really said he’d been drugged? The sinister notion added to the tension in his gut, but Paul put them away for later. He had to find shelter for Maddie.

What scared him more than the crash, more than the notion that someone wanted them to die, was the defeat on her face. The Berlin Heart was lost, and it seemed her father was, too. Could she live through it? After the death of her nieces?

He climbed over a sharp projection of rock. Part of Maddie had died the day the children did, and truth be told, part of him had, as well. He’d lost some of his confidence—some might say arrogance—when he could not save those girls. He shook the thought away, along with a clump of snow that attached itself to his neck.

Help me find a way, Lord.

The snow coated his hair now, freezing his coat stiff against his complaining muscles and aching ribs. Dropping down behind a pile of black rock, he found nothing, just a smooth blanket of white. It reminded him of backpacking trips with his big brother, Mark, especially the time Paul broke his foot, diving into a tree trunk hidden in the water, and Mark carried him five miles back to their uncle’s place, cracking jokes all the while. Mark was always quick with a one-liner, even now that they only saw each other across a scarred table in the prison visiting area, but Paul saw the pain in his brother’s eyes.

The question that haunted him daily surfaced in his mind. Would things have been different if Mark hadn’t been exposed to his uncle’s cavalier attitude toward alcohol at a vulnerable time in his life?

You’re a physician, Paul. You know that alcoholism is a disease that can affect people anywhere, anytime, regardless of the situation. Still, if his father hadn’t left them…if Uncle Lyman hadn’t turned a blind eye to Mark’s drinking…

If, if, if.

None of it would change a thing. The indisputable fact was, Mark was driving the car that hit Bruce Lambert and the kids, and he had been drinking. For all his protestations that another car had been involved, the police could not find evidence to support Mark’s claim. Their case was cut-and-dried. Mark drove drunk. He plowed into the Lamberts’ car. He was guilty of manslaughter.

And the other indisputable fact was that Paul had loaned the car that morning to his brother, thinking that this time, finally, his brother really had sobered up.

A piece of rock came loose in Paul’s hand and he threw it savagely as far as he could. He didn’t even hear it land. Biting back the frustration, he shook the snow from his hair and started to climb back up to search in another direction, when he noticed a hole cut into the rock, about four feet across. Icicles hung from the rim, like jagged teeth.

With nothing to lose, Paul kicked at the icicles to break them off and stuck his head into the opening. Blinking to be sure he was not the victim of a hallucination, he peered into the gloom again before he said a silent thank-you and headed back to the others. Finally, one small thing had gone right.

Maddie saw the snow deepening around her, but she could not feel it. Her body was numb from the inside out, with a bitter cold that had nothing to do with the elements. In the distance, the plane crackled and hissed, as if it hid some creature living out its last breath.

Last breath.

Last hope.

She was trapped in a surreal nightmare. The marvelous machine that would save her father was lying crushed underneath a half ton of twisted wreckage. She wanted to be angry at the pilot for letting them crash, at Jaden and Paul for not saving the heart; but deep down she knew they were not to blame.

Each breath caused a pain that cut her open inside.

The harsh truth was, she could have gone to get the heart, but her need to find Paul drove her to him instead. If she had put her father first, as he had done for her all her life, she would have gotten the device off the plane before it exploded.