Horizons (3 page)

She was just starting another round when Zach grabbed her arm. “You’re going the wrong way! I thought you were
already out with the others! A minute more, and you’d have been left behind! What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to collect some things we might need,” she explained, pointing to her small cache.

“Damn, woman!” he bellowed. “Now is not the time for a scavenger hunt! Get your butt down that chute!”

He shoved her to the exit, pushed her to her knees. “Sit!” he commanded.

“I’m not a trained dog!” she retorted. Shooting him a glare, Kelly made a mad grab for the pile of gear she’d amassed, gathering the corners of the bottom blanket around the items atop it. Scarcely had she wadded the edges in her fists than Zach booted her from behind, and she went sailing down the rubber chute on her back, screeching all the way.

Hands caught her arms, yanking her upright and out of the way. She still hadn’t regained her wits when Zach hit the ground beside her.

Again he grabbed her, shoving her away from the plane. “Go! Quickly! I’m right behind you.”

Though Kelly had no idea why there was such a need for haste at this juncture, she broke into a lope, following close on the heels of the man ahead of her.

They were breaking their own trail through junglelike terrain. Branches swatted at her. Leaves, some as large as pillowcases, slapped her in the face. Underfoot, rocks and vines threatened to trip her at every step. Fortunately, their frantic trek was short-lived. Within a few minutes, they caught up with the forward part of their group, waiting on the slope of a slight rise.

“Here! Over here!” The soldier waved to them from the rocky incline.

They scrambled up the barren swell, and found themselves on a small plateau. “Look!” the corporal said, pointing back the way they’d come.

Kelly took one look, and gasped loudly. Beside her, Zach’s low curse was oddly appropriate. From here, above the treetops, they could see the wreckage of their plane. Upon impact, the huge 747 had broken apart like a child’s toy. One wing had sheared off. It was lying some distance away, burning. The m
angled cockpit had rammed nose-
first into the side of a flat-topped mountain. It too, had broken away. The main body of the aircraft, with one wing still attached, was engulfed in fire, burning like a gigantic funeral pyre. Though the storm had passed, clouds still hovered overhead, tainted now by the plumes of black smoke and flame that shot hundreds of feet into the air. Behind the main body, perhaps the length of two football fields away from it, the tail section clung precariously to a steep hillside. From this viewpoint, it appeared the only thing holding it there was the crushed forest of trees beneath it.

As he gazed at the scattered wreckage, Zach realized just how fortunate they’d been. Had they been seated anywhere else on the plane, he and the few people with him would not have survived. If he and Kelly had not given up their seats in the first-class section—if Alita had not chosen that precise time to come back in search of an empty restroom—they, too, would be dead.
Call it luck, kismet, fate…
whatever. A select band of guardian angels had surely worked overtime today.

Chapter 3

K
elly sank to her knees, her whole body trembling violently as she stared at the inferno in wide-eyed dismay. Tears fell unheeded. “There, but for the grace of God,” she murmured, echoing everyone else’s thoughts.

“We got out,” Zach reminded her. “It was a close call, but we made it.”

“You don’t suppose there’s any way
…
?” Her voice trailed off.

“No,” Zach replied gravely. “There nothing we could do for them now, in any case.”

“I suppose not, but just the thought that some of them might still
…
”
She pulled in a large breath and released it heavily. “Good God! Those poor people! What a dreadful way to die!”

“Try not to think about it,” Zach advised.

“Easier said than done,” the middle-aged woman with the lank brown hair commented, her voice quivering. “I’ll be having nightmares of this for a long, long time.”

“We all will,” the soldier predicted somberly.

They watched solemnly for some minutes, until one of the unconscious passengers on the ground moaned in pain, drawing their attention away from the burning plane and back to their most immediate problem.

“How long do you thin
k
it will take our rescuers to reach us?” Alita questioned.

“I’d say that depends largely on where we’ve landed,” the steward put in. “If we’re lucky enough to have crashed on a populated island, it could be anywhere from minutes to hours, I suppose.”

“I take it you’ve flown this route before,” Zach said. “Do you have any idea where we might be?”

The man shook his head. “About halfway between New Zealand and Hawaii, somewhere in the Polynesian chain. But I have to tell you, there are thousands of atolls and islands dotting this part of the Pacific, and as far as I know, less than a third of them are inhabited. Trying to predict which one we’re on would be like hitting the lotto twice in a row.”

The man on the ground groaned again. Zach frowned. “Off hand, I’d say our best bet would be to get ourselves to lower ground. Maybe we’ll meet an emergency unit coming from below. At any rate, it won’t do us any good to stay here.”

The corporal disagreed. “If they send out a search team, or a plane to look for survivors, wouldn’t it be better if we stayed here, where we can be spotted right away?”

“That’s assuming anyone knows we’ve gone down,” Zach pointed out. He nodded toward the three most severely injured of their group, those lying unconscious at their feet. “I’m not a doctor, but I’d guess the sooner these folks get some medical attention, the better their chances of survival. If we head down now, we can reach the shore by sunset. Maybe find a village there, and some
help. Besides, none of us will last long up here without food and fresh water.”

“Again, assuming there is any on this isle,” the steward added. At Kelly’s questioning look, he added wryly, “Why do you think so many of these islands haven’t been settled? They’re nothing but a pile of lava, coral, and tropical jungle.”

Any way they looked at it, their situation appeared bleak.; “I vote we go down, while we can see where we’re goin’,” the big American proposed. “I ain’t hankerin’ to get tangled up with no wild critters or snakes in the dark.”

“Snakes?” Alita screeched. Her naturally tan complexion paled even more as she eyed the dense foliage mere yards away.

“Or worse,” someone muttered.

“I’m with Zach and the big guy,” Alita decided posthaste. “Get me out of this jungle and onto a nice, safe beach. I want a phone, room service, and a margarita
…
and I want them as soon as possible.”

“That’s right, Alita,” Kelly commented derisively, getting shakily to her feet. “Stay true to form. Think of yourself first and foremost. Don’t bother to consider that there are others in worse straits than you. Even if you do look as if you’ve been dragged backward through a knothole.”

Alita’s dark eyes narrowed spitefully. “I’d wouldn’t talk if I were you. Your hair is a fright, and your clothes look as if you’ve crawled through the gutter in them.”

“At least I wasn’t caught in the john with my pantyhose around my ankles,” Kelly retorted. “You must have looked real cute, bouncing around in there like a marble in a pinball machine.”

Alita sprang at her, claws bared. Kelly lunged from the opposite direction. Zach stepped hastily between them. With one arm, he held Alita at bay until the soldier could
corral her. His other arm coiled around Kelly’s waist, pulling her back.

“Hey! Stop it right now! We haven’t got time for your petty female squabbling.”

Kelly squirmed, resisting his hold on her. He gave her a rough shake. “I’m serious, Spike. Simmer down and can the attitude!”

“Spike?” Kelly exclaimed irately. “Who are you calling Spike?”

“You, babe.” Zach twisted her in his arms until they were eye to eye, his lit with something akin to wry amusement, despite their dire circumstances. “If that bump on your head rises any higher, you’ll look like a blasted unicorn.”

Her immediate response was to search for a smart comeback, but her beleaguered brain failed her. Her anger disintegrated as quickly as it had flared, an
d she wilted in his arms. “I…
I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m acting this way. Especially right now.”

He steadied her before releasing her. “Probably a result of the adrenaline,” he said, somber shadows etching his features once more. “Everyone reacts differently to a crisis.”

“I
…
I’m okay now,” she assured him, though still flustered.

He forced a smile. “Good. Don’t want you going off the deep end. All of us are going to need our wits about us, and we’ve all got to pitch in and help one another.”

“So, are we headin’ for the beach, or what?” the big man drawled in his thick southern accent. “Time’s a-wastin’.” They took a quick vote. Only the soldier held out.

“Tell you what, Corporal,” Zach suggested. “You help get the others down. Then, if you want to come back up here and man a signal fire or so
mething, that’s your choice, bu
t for now, we all might be better off sticking together.”

Three of their number—a man, a woman, and a teenage
boy, all unconscious—were totally incapacitated. Additionally, the steward’s left leg was badly broken. With help, he’d managed to hobble this far, in excruciating pain. He certainly couldn’t negotiate the rough terrain ahead without aid. Of the men, this left Zach, the corporal, and the newly liberated prisoner with the least serious injuries. Not that they’d escaped unscathed, by any means. The soldier’s hand was broken. Zach’s shoulder was dislocated and at least a couple of his ribs were fractured. Even the giant had broken his nose and was sporting a goose egg on his forehead the size of a softball. And these were just their most obvious wounds.

The women had fared only a little better. Among a variety of scrapes and bruises, Kelly suspected she had a slight concussion. Her vision kept blurring, off and on, and she wasn’t as steady on her feet as she was usually. Alita had a long gash along
one leg, and kept holding her
left elbow. The older woman, now in a fuzzy state of nearshock, was favoring her ribs. The fourth lady was limping on an ankle swelled three times its normal size. Her face was flecked with tiny nicks, the blood now congealed and dried in little blobs. The toddler, though fretful, appeared to have escaped relatively unharmed.

The corporal agreed, reluctantly.

“Okay, let’s take stock,” Zach proposed. “We’ve got three unconscious persons and three semi-able men to carry them. Kelly, you take charge of the old lady. Guide her along. Help her over the rough spots and make sure she doesn’t wander off by herself and get lost. You
…”
Zach gestured toward the woman with the toddler.

“Blair,” the woman supplied. “Blair Chevalier.”

Zach nodded. “Blair, you handle the child. Alita, that leaves you to lend a hand with the steward.”

“If you can find me something to use for a crutch, I can hobble along fairly well on my own,” the man said.

“Can someone help me with the stuff in my bundle?” Kelly asked. “It weighs more than I thought it would, and I’m sure there are things inside we might need.”

“Like what?” the felon inquired, scanning the pile of purses with masculine scorn. “Eye shadow and lipstick?”

Kelly scowled at him. “No, you overgrown sexist. Like aspirin and tweezers and maybe even a few band-aids. Safety pins to secure bandages. Even tampons can be used in place of cotton balls.”

At this, the man’s face, somewhat ruddy by nature, flushed to a dull shade of red. “Yeah, okay. I get the point.”

“I can take some of it,” Blair offered. “And if we could fashion one of those jackets or blankets into a sling for the baby, so I could carry her on my back, it would help free up my hands.”

“Make another bundle into a backpack for me,” the steward suggested.

A short time later, they were ready to depart. As one they turned, taking one last look at the burning plane— all contemplating the fate that could have been theirs, and counting their blessings that they’d somehow miraculously escaped.

“Was it a bomb, do you think?” Alita asked.

“I’d put my money on that bolt of lightning,” Zach said.

“That’s my bet, too,” the steward concurred. “It sounded like a direct hit, which could have fried all the electrical circuits and basically put the craft out of commission.”

“If that’s the case, what are the chances the pilot got off some sort of SOS?” The soldier voiced the question now uppermost in everyone’s mind.

The steward shrugged. “I’d say slim to none. The radio equipment was probably knocked out. But the black box might still be sending out a signal.”

“You think so?” Kelly inquired soberly. “Even after a crash and fire of that magnitude?”

Again the man shrugged. “Possibly. To borrow a saying from the Timex people, those things can take a licking and keep on ticking.”

“I hope you’re right,” Blair commented bleakly.

As did they all.

T
heir trek down the mountain—from the height and size of it, it could be termed nothing less—was difficult and fraught with its own varieties of hazard. Like many of the islands in this part of the world, it had been formed by cooled volcanic flow, and the jagged rocks underfoot were razor-sharp. This, plus having to forge their own path through the dense vegetation, slowed their progress to a snail’s pace. Of necessity, the men took the lead, taking turns hacking at the impeding undergrowth with sturdy branches, to which they’d tied their pocket knives. The others followed, single file.

Amid the trees, there was no cooling sea breeze. The humidity was nearly unbearable, making it seem as if they were sucking in water with every labored breath. Their clothing clung limply to their sweat-soaked bodies as they trudged wearily along. The endless tangle of rain-dampened plants only compounded their discomfort, slapping at them with sharp wet leaves that cut like knives and smearing them with dirt and bugs of every imaginable variety. Clouds of mosquitos hovered all around, feasting on every exposed inch of human flesh. Added to their constant buzzing were the raucous cries of island birds, disturbed by this rude intrusion into their habitat.

Vines as thick as a man’s wrist latticed across the ground and between tree limbs. Alita minced across them in her spike heels, cursing fluen
tl
y in Spanish. The third time
she tripped, launching herself into the brawny Southerner’s back, he stopped. With nary a word he tucked her under his arm like a stray pup, plucked her shoes off, and calmly snapped the three-inch heels from the soles. Then he shoved the shoes back on her feet, set her down, and went on as if nothing untoward had occurred.

Alita came out of her shock-induced stupor and promptly went ballistic. “You imbecile!
”
she shrieked after him. “You
…
you dumb ox! You just ruined a two hundred dollar pair of shoes!”

“So sue me!” he replied on a terse laugh. “And while I don’t mind having your sweet lips bumpin’ my backside every three steps, I’m a might busy now, sugar. Try me later, when I’m buck naked.”

As she guided the old lady and the hobbling steward around Alita, Kelly couldn’t hold back a snicker. “What do you know! Insta-flats! Maybe you’ll start a new trend, Gomez!”

“Screw you!” Alita spat. “And that giant ape, too!”

T
hey stopped in a small clearing about halfway down for a brief rest. By this time, Zach would have sold his soul for a machete. His shoulder hurt like all hell. It felt as if someone had taken a two-by-four to it, then set it aflame with a blowtorch. He’d dislocated it once before, playing college football, but he couldn’t remember it ever hurting this badly. Though the boy he was toting downhill was about a hundred and forty pounds under normal circumstances, his inert condition added weight to his limp form. That, and thrashing through waist-high weeds with a puny stick, was fast taking its toll. At least it was his left shoulder, and not his right. Still, Zach didn’t know how much longer he was going to be able to bear up.