No Place Like Home
by Criminally Charmed
Disclaimer - Not mine. Jeff may bring the lawyers next time if I try and claim them. He's already threatening to answer the reviews this time again.
Chapter Ten
Scott stared at Jean in shock. Maybe it should have been horror, but on some odd level, Scott was strangely relieved. Jeannie Bates – um, Landman – had been his best friend since they were little. Her knowing about this was a relief. Someone he could talk to and not have to be the strong leader for. Scott knew Kate, in many ways, could – and would – be that for him. But with her being pregnant and all, Scott was reluctant to really lay it all on his wife.
"I said later," Jean firmly stated. "But don't think you are going to get out of it."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Scott said with a grin. "Pinky swear, double dare."
Jean smiled back at that. "And when "Op Four gets back"," she chuckled. "Don't call him Fish-Face."
Scott almost slapped his own face at that. Dad would have him scrubbing down all the 'birds – maybe even Five – if he heard about that one.
Gordon had adjusted his communications system to sync with the radios being used by the National Guard so that he could talk to the men in the chopper. So far they had not found anyone, but they had sent back damage reports. He had felt sick when they told him about the school bus. A random thought passed through his minds that it hadn't been all that long since he had lived in Bailey. He probably knew some of the dead children's parents – maybe even the kids themselves, although they would have been pretty young when the Tracys had left town. Odds were, their parents worked at the factory for his father. This would hit Jeff hard.
Suddenly, Gordon noticed the water running below. "Hey," he said in shock. "That riverbed is listed as dried out."
The pilot nodded. "Yep. My Uncle used to live in Bailey. I remember him telling me about Storm Dam."
"Storm Dam?" the medic next to Gordon asked.
"The Dam was created by a line of tornadoes that ran through this area, I guess fifteen years ago." The pilot handed Gordon a data pad. "According to reports, the dam was shattered in this storm. One storm made it, another destroyed it. Crazy, huh?"
"Yeah," Gordon muttered before switching his communications to Thunderbirds Five.
"Op Four to Thunderbird Five, Op Four To Thunderbird Five– you hear me?"
"Thu-Thunderbird F-Five here, Op Four," Brains said. "Wh-what is the si-sit…How can I help you?"
"Sending you data on Storm Dam. Was anything built in the former riverbed that could be affected by it once more being a current riverbed?"
"Ne-negative Op Four," Fermat declared. "The d-dam was declared too unst-stable so the dr-dried out riverbed was c-considered n-not to be."
"Bureaucrats who knew what they were talking about," Gordon muttered as he signed off.
The pilot, who had been listening, disagreed. "Nah – the state wanted to allow building permits. Jeff Tracy fought them, saying that unless they wanted to put a real dam there and not just a natural curiosity, he would fight them every inch of the way before he let them endanger people."
Gordon grinned behind his visor. That sounded like his father.
Looking down, Gordon pointed at something below. "See that?" he said. "Looks like someone is in the river."
The pilot nodded and they made to land near a bridge.
Jeff stirred slightly but didn't wake up…Part of him didn't want to.
Alan…
Gordon grabbed his rescue gear and secured himself to a winch protruding from the helicopter, signaling the medic to stay on the top of the ridge for the moment.
Slowing repelling down the ridge, occasionally slipping in the mud or once almost falling when a rock gave way, Gordon warily eyed the rushing water, recalling how often they had played here when he was young. Well, that was a thing of the past – in more ways than one.
Gordon knelt beside the fallen man, quickly securing the victim to a drop line, worried that if the root the man had wedged his arm in gave way, they would have to perform a swift water rescue – and those were a bitch.
"Got him!" Gordon called up as the medic began to come down, carrying a rescue board and neck brace. Once the medic was one the other side of the vic, Gordon said, "OK, once the neck brace is secure, we'll roll him onto the board and get the heck outta here."
The medic quickly secured the neck brace and then counted off "one, two, three" at which Gordon helped to roll the man onto the board.
Luckily, the National Guard medic was too busy securing the victim to the board to notice Gordon's shock and the visor covered his wide-eyed horror.
"Dad."
Amy Wilson pulled out her microwave meal out as the timer went out. Knowing TJ would be gone most of the day meant that she was on her own for lunch. She smiled as she planned out what she would need to make some Texas Chili, one of TJ's favorites. The beans were already soaking at home, so if she put everything in the crock pot once she got home…
Her eyes drawn to the television on the wall of the small break room, Amy suddenly went numb, almost dropping her meal. Quickly placing the meal on the table, Amy drew her cell phone from her pocket with hands that were shaking so badly she almost dropped it.
Welcome to Verizon Wireless. The wireless caller you have called is not available at this time. Please call again later, a mechanical voice said with annoying calmness.
Running out of the break room, Amy called to another employee.
"Jasmine – you are in charge for now. Call in Helen if you need extra help. Never mind, just call in Helen – she's been wanting more hours. And if TJ calls, tell him to call my cell immediately."
Jasmine looked over from the counter where she had been checking out a car. "Is anything wrong, Amy?"
Amy paused at the door.
"I can't reach TJ. And those tornadoes tore right through where he should have been. If he was stuck, he would have called in if he could. You know he would have."
"Amy," Jasmine asked in concern – all of the girls liked the gentle mechanic – "maybe you should just call…"
Amy shook her head. "No. I'll try not to be in anyone's way, but there is no way in hell I won't be there for TJ. He- he needs to know he matters."
Jasmine watched as Amy ran to her car and sped off, splashing through a large puddle. They hadn't had any twisters but they sure had plenty of rain. "Get there alive, girl," she muttered before turning with a smile to the customer.
"And thank you for renting with Ace, sir."
"Dad."
The National Guard medic stared oddly at Gordon. "Did you say something," he asked before securing the bottom cinch of the rescue board.
Gordon nearly pounded his head into the mud. "Um, I said, he doesn't look too bad." Glancing around, he wondered aloud,
"Doesn't look like a place for a walk."
"With those shoes – well, shoe," the medic chuckled darkly. "My dad runs a shoe store.
Those sell for over a hundred dollars a pair. But they are not made for long walks across the prarie."
"So where is his car?" Gordon wondered as he pulled on the tow-line and helped to guide Jeff up as the chopper pilot began to pull them slowly up the embankment.
"Well," the medic surmised, "he may have felt safer in the river bed – at least when it was dried out. He would have had some shelter under the bridge."
Gordon nodded, his heart in his throat as he wondered where his little brother was.
Just as they reached to top and could lay Jeff on the flat ground, the older man began to stir.
"A-Alan," he murmured.
"Sir," the medic said calmly. "You are alright. We're taking you to help, do you understand?" Jeff quieted and the medic gave a "thumbs up" to the pilot.
Gordon and the medic began to carry Jeff to the awaiting helicopter, the pilot having detached the lead and starting it back up.
As they lifted off the ground, Gordon used some wet-wipes to begin to clean the mud from Jeff's face as the medic cut away Jeff's pant leg to begin checking on his injury.
"Not too bad," the medic said cheerfully. "We can take him to the hospital -"
"No," Gordon said abruptly. At the surprised look from the National Guard men, he shrugged. "If it isn't too bad, let's take him back to the hot zone. Our medics can handle this." And Scott can handle Dad, Gordon thought.
Both men saw the logic and knew that since it was closer, they could get back to search and rescue faster.
But Gordon, after sparing one more glance at the empty fields below, continued to wash the mud from his father and worry…
Where was Alan?
Jean slipped into the make-shift medical area, a small smile playing around her lips. The Tracys – um, International Rescue – had quickly gotten everyone out from the school. And Lilly had certainly called it. Mrs. Austin had gone into labor and Sarah Jane (Jean was sure that was the Thunderbird with the, um, curves) had swiftly set up a curtained off area in the back.
"No time for the niceties," she had murmured as she led the teacher to the back in order to spare the children the sight of their teacher in pain.
Virgil was setting Mrs. Edwards' arm before preparing to put stitches into the cut on the principal's forehead. "There we go, Ma'am," Virgil said cheerfully as he bandaged the cut. "How long since your last tetanus shot?"
Mrs. Edwards sighed as she glanced at the sixth graders looking at her in expectation. From the back of the group, Mr. Connolly was trying not to laugh. "Now, Edna," he murmured, "you need to be a good example for the kids."
The sixth graders began to giggle at that. After glaring at her employee – she WOULD be reminding him of that later – she admitted it had been over ten years. Virgil quickly removed a small syringe and gave her a shot.
"There you go, Ma'am," Virgil said with a smile. "You should rest a few minutes but you should be back to terrorizing the t'weens by twilight."
Try as she might, the principal couldn't maintain her strict look. The gentle smile came out as she thanked the young man.
"You're good at that," she murmured. "Do you have children or are you just used to difficult patients?"
"No kids," Virgil admitted. "But my wife and I hope to some day. Some of my teammates are parents, however. And my teammates can act like little kids when they are sick or hurt, trust me."
Lilly had moved closer and leaned nearer to Virgil. "You guys have been through a lot, haven't you?"
Virgil knelt down and placed a hand on her shoulder. "We've seen some bad things. But that's why we're here. To try and help."
"Have you ever been through a tornado before?" Lilly asked. "The other kids were all in the classroom but I was helping Mr. Connolly and Mr. Duffy get the TV so we could watch a movie. It was awful. I saw how the sky looked and all the stuff coming at us and the wind sounded like a monster in a horror movie."
Scott entered the tent, squeezing Jean's shoulder as he gestured to where he had secured the body of the custodian. Jean nodded in acknowledgment while Scott stepped over to Lilly and knelt next to his brother.
"Op Three has never been that close to a tornado," Scott said. "But I have. I wasn't much older than you. And it was scary and to make things worse, I was alone with – with a toddler I was responsible for."
"Did you both make it?" Lilly asked.
"Well," Scott teased, "I am pretty sure I did."
Lilly giggled, just the reactions Scott had hoped for.
"And the toddler is now a teenager," Scott confided, "and drives us all crazy on a daily basis."
Lilly threw her arms around a startled Scott. "Thank you," she whispered before joining her classmates. After confirming there were no injuries among the students, Jean had radioed the school nurse who had instructed her to bring the sixth graders to the athletic field – more parents were arriving.
As students were led away by Mr. Connolly, Jean spoke up.
"Do you have everything you need? The Red Cross is setting up in town but they plan on sending out a truck with supplies."
"We're fine -" John began only to have a muted grunt of pain from the back be followed by the wail of a newborn baby, making everyone smile.
John chuckled as he amended his answer. "Diapers. We need diapers."
Gordon had washed away most of the mud from his father's face when the medic looked over at him.
"We'll be landing in a minute," he said. "This will need a few stitches but – oh, hell!"
"What?" Gordon said anxiously. What else could go wrong?
"That's Jeff Tracy," the medic gasped. The helicopter shuddered for a moment as the pilot tried to see as well…
Quickly, the trio landed and Gordon led the way into the tent, carrying most of his father's weight. But the entire family was grateful their visors spared them from the reaction Jean gave…
Sarah Jane moved out into the area, sniffing back her tears. "I don't care how many times I do that," she sniffed as she stood close to Virgil, who put an arm around her shoulder. "It's so awesome."
"How is Colynn?" Mrs. Edwards asked as John helped her from the exam table.
"She and her daughter will be just fine," Sarah assured the woman. "Text book delivery."
"Except for three weeks early following a twister," a tired voice called out, surprising Virgil who stiffened.
As John and Jean walked the principal to a Red Cross worker who had arrived, leading the woman to a small bus that had been appropriated from the parking lot to take the "walking wounded" to the hospital two towns over, Sarah leaned over and whispered in her husband's ear.
"Yeah, that is Colynn Crutcher-now-Austin. Last month I deliver your niece, this month your ex-girlfriend's baby. When Kate goes into labor - heck, when she approached her due date - I am volunteering for duty on Five."
Scott chuckled as he overheard the whisper. But before he could say anything, two things drew his attention. First, he heard the helicopter from the National Guard return. Scott prepared to go check on anyone injured when he was almost bowled over by another familiar face.
Gerry Austin, who Scott had gone to school with, ran into the area. "My wife," he gasped, clearly out of breath.
Before anyone could respond (including John and Jean, who had returned), a tired but annoyed voice could be heard.
"Gerald Oscar Austin, get your ass back here!"
The group didn't mean to overhear but…
"Oh, God – Co – are you ok?"
"I just pushed a bowling ball out of a hole the size of a tennis ball – No, I am not OK."
"I mean -"
Colynn must have taken pity on her husband as her voice softened. "I'm tired, sore and you probably have burnt ears from what I was saying while I was in labor. But I'll be fine. And you haven't even looked at your daughter." There was silence except for the rustle of cloth – presumably the man picking up the blanket wrapped baby.
"Are you disappointed? I mean, you kept saying what you and our son would do…"
Tears were clogging his throat but Gerry managed an answer. "Disappointed? She's daddy's little princess. Besides, honey – you should have seen Jeannie Bates back in high school. If Jean hadn't been a stubborn ass, she could have played in the majors. You, Daddy's angel, will be anything you put your mind to, won't you? Any little girl who decides to upstage a twister is gonna be something else, aren't you?"
John quickly texted Ann-Marie, reminding the woman to send flowers to Gerry and his wife, since the man was a shift foreman for the factory in town – and prayed they wouldn't be sending any flowers of sympathy before this was over.
It was at this moment that Gordon and the National Guard medic hauled the gurney into the tent. Jean gasped at the sight in front of her.
"Mr. Tracy?" the deputy stood back and let the medics/ family members take over. Jean turned to the National Guard medic and the pilot who had just arrived.
"Where's Alan?" she asked, knowing the rest of the family was dying to ask the same question.
The medic looked confused but shrugged. "He said that name when we picked him up. But he was alone. No car, no one else nearby."
"Storm Dam broke," the pilot offered. "If he was where the riverbed was dried out, he's lucky to be alive."
Jean had gone white, and was more than aware the rest of the family was listening even as they worked on Jeff.
"Jeff Tracy left Bailey a few hours ago with his sixteen year old son, Alan, in a green Lexus on their way to the Kansas City Airport. Did you see any sign -"
"No," Gordon spoke up, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "He was alone. There was nothing or no one else nearby."
"If the kid and the car were in the river," the pilot said sadly, "the chances are, both are a lost cause."
"No," Jean said firmly. "You don't know that boy. You don't know that family. Alan's alive. Now get back out there and keep looking."
"Ma'am," the medic said politely. "We'll do our best. But we have to follow the storm path and that is in the opposite direction of the way the river flows. We'll let the others know. We'll keep an eye out for him. Do you have a picture?"
The Tracys all wanted to grab wallets – which they didn't keep on themselves during rescues – but were surprised when Jean pulled out her phone. "I took this a couple of hours ago," she said tearfully, showing a picture on her phone.
The medic took the phone and with Jean's help, cropped Alan's face and downloaded it. With a few keystrokes, he sent it to his commander. "Search and rescue will know who to look for that way, Ma'am."
Both National Guard members left, having first taken the Austin family with them.
"Dammit," Scott muttered. "I'm going to find Alan."
"No," Jeff murmured from the stretcher.
"Dad," Gordon exclaimed before looking guiltily at Jean.
"I already know, Fish-Face," Jean teased before leaning closer to Jeff.
"Mr. Tracy, can you tell us what happened?"
Jeff blinked wearily as he grasped her hand. With the open tent flap, the rest of the family couldn't risk any familiarity.
"We were driving along, some idiot in a red sports car ran us off the road. Before I could get us back on the road, we saw the twister. I drove into the dried-out riverbed, got under the bridge. It kept us safe. I told Alan to stay in the car, the rainwater had gotten the ground muddy and I wanted some stuff to create traction."
Jeff's eyes closed in pain, more mental than physical, before he could continue. "I couldn't get back in time. The water, it seemed to come out of nowhere. Alan, my baby – he was swept away with the car. I tried to get to him but…Oh, God…my baby."
"They'll find him, Jeff," Millie said firmly as she entered the tent. Grabbing a folded stool, she set it up next to Jeff and grasped his other hand. "Alan is going to be fine. You'll see."
"You don't know that Millie," Jeff said in a husky voice as he tried to hold back his tears.
"Let me tell you what I do know, Jefferson Grant Tracy," Millie said with conviction. "That boy is a Tracy. And if there is one thing that I know about Tracys, it's that you're survivors."
"Millie," Jeff groaned. "Um…"
Millie leaned in closer. "Do you remember all those nights, when you couldn't stand to go home to your empty bed and you came to me?"
"Mama!" Jean squeaked only to have Millie look at her daughter in annoyance.
"Bertha Jean, get your mind out of the gutter. Jeff would sit in the kitchen of the diner and we would eat and have coffee – and talk," she explained, grasping Jeff's hand tighter before sighing deeply.
"We both had lost spouses that we loved more than our own lives. Heading up – or home – to those empty beds and lost dreams was more than we could stand. I remember how often I wondered if I had asked Charlie to come back to Kansas, if he would still be alive. But he loved it so much in New York, I couldn't bear to ask him to do that. Yet if I had been a bit more selfish, we could still be together."
"And I can't tell you how many times Jeff would talk about what could be done to spare people from the pain he had suffered." At Jeff's surprised look, Millie grinned. "Oh, yeah – I figured it out. You dope."
"I could never get anything past you, Silly Millie," Jeff murmured.
"Brat," Millie grinned before becoming serious once more. "You know she's with him. Lucy would never leave her babies alone."
Jeff smiled slightly, holding Millie's hand and Sarah Jane completed giving him a sedative. Catching Scott's attention, he nodded slightly at his oldest son, making his expectation clear – find their youngest family member.
"Sorry, Mama," Jean murmured to her mother.
Millie shook her head. "Jean, baby – I love Jeff. But like a brother. I loved your Daddy. And Jeff loved Lucy so much. Both of us have had opportunities, both of us have had people tell us that we should find someone else. But baby, when you have a once in a lifetime love, the kind of love both of us were blessed to find, it is hard to settle for good enough."
Jean looked over at the entrance. Amos Taylor looked in, a little sad. Jean knew the man hadn't heard any of Millie's earlier cryptic comments and that the Tracys' secret was safe with the Bates women. But Jean also knew that Amos was being forced to accept that his unrequited love for Millie would always be just that.
"Sheriff," Jean said formally as her boss stood there.
Pulling his hat down further to cover his bandage, Amos nodded. "Just checking in – I've sent word to the eighth grade parents to head over to the elementary. I have four parents I have bad news for."
"Four?" Gordon asked. "I thought it was three kids."
Amos shook his head sadly. "Carrie Deyton died a little while ago."
Jean sighed. "Her brother is in the sixth grade. We pulled him from the school earlier. He's alright and his parents are down at the field right now."
Sighing, Amos tugged at his hat once more. "I guess I start with the Deytons."
Watching Amos walk away, Jean chewed her lip before putting a hand on Scott's arm. "We'll find him, Scotty. I promise."
Scott nodded, feeling guilt warring with his worry. His little brother was missing, but missing was better than confirmed dead and there were four dead kids, not much younger than Alan, who were never coming home. But Alan could come home. He had hope
He had to.
A/N - 1) Storm Dam is made up. But such a thing can exist, but it would be rare that it would be at that level. 2) The bowling ball comment Colynn made? I said that to Tom after our daughter was born (we knew it was a girl and he didn't care either way - just wanted us both to be ok). After 37 hours of labor, lots of drugs (I highly recommend them), a sadistic jerk covering for my doctor (man, was he ticked when he found out certain orders had been ignored - the sj resident was fired), and finally put on oxygen because we couldn't control my breathing any more...she was completely and utterly worth it.
Alan will be back later. Probably not saying much...he did hit his head pretty hard. Laters!