Part 2
Ezra's eyes snapped open and he looked around wildly, disconcerted by the odd falling sensation he was experiencing. He sucked in a breath when he finally remembered where he was. "Stuck in a tree," he muttered with a sigh. The sun was lower in the sky than he remembered and he was surprised to discover that it was nearly three in the afternoon. He had been unconscious for hours, dangling thirty feet from the ground. After cataloguing his numerous injuries and finding himself relatively functional, if somewhat battered, he set about extricating himself from his predicament.
First, he found a sturdy branch within his reach that would support his weight and carefully maneuvered his feet toward it. Next, he attempted to release the parachute, but it remained stubbornly attached to his pack. With a sigh, he removed a small pocketknife from his jumpsuit and carefully cut the parachute away from the harness, releasing himself from the tangled mess. Gripping a branch with his good arm, he gingerly stood, praying that the limb would support his weight. It creaked and shook, but held firm. Ezra let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding and slowly lowered himself to a seated position on the branch.
Leaning his head back against the tree, Ezra groaned as the aches and pains in his body began to make themselves known. He wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and sleep, but his situation was still far from secure. The winds had increased and the tree was swaying, making it imperative for him to reach the ground with all due haste. Ezra sighed, then slowly reached for another branch and methodically started making his way down. He was still fifteen feet from the ground when disaster struck.
As he reached for his next foothold, a sudden cramp stabbed through his right hand and he lost his grip on the branch that was providing his support. His arms flailing wildly, Ezra plummeted to the ground, bouncing off of branches all the way, until he hit the earth with a dull thud. He lay flat on his back, eyes wide, as he tried to breathe. Stars were beginning to circle his vision when he finally gasped, drawing a greedy breath into his oxygen-starved lungs.
Eventually, his breathing evened out and Ezra pushed himself to his feet, grunting at the additional pain inflicted by his fall. He inventoried his battered body and found no new broken bones, though he had added significantly to his collection of cuts and bruises. Thankfully, none of them were life threatening, even if they did hurt like hell.
Ezra leaned against the tree and studied his surroundings. He had a general idea of where he was and, based on what he saw during his descent through the air, he was miles away from anything resembling civilization. He wasn't completely inept in the wilderness, having taken survival-training classes during his time with the FBI, but he hadn't had much chance to practice those skills. It wasn't going to be easy getting out of this place, especially with a broken arm to hinder his travels. Frowning, he lifted his arm and grimaced at the pain the movement caused. The injured limb was going to have to be splinted so that it wouldn't be damaged further during his forthcoming trek through the forest.
Ezra delicately pushed his jumpsuit sleeve up to inspect his arm. The skin was unbroken, but the arm was swollen and bruised and would need to be set as soon as possible – a prospect he didn't welcome, but one that was necessary. He searched the ground for something to use as a splint, finding several straight sticks of a suitable size. Placing them on the ground, he prepared for the painful task.
"This ought to be fun," Ezra said resignedly as he wedged his arm firmly in the v-shaped crook of a nearby tree. He took a deep breath and carefully pulled his body backwards, crying out in pain as the bones finally snapped into place. Easing his arm away from the tree, Ezra took a shaky breath and slid to the ground, cradling his arm gently against his chest while he fought to stay conscious. He swallowed carefully, trying to calm the churning in his stomach, but the repeated blows to his head finally caught up with him and he rolled to his right, vomiting violently into the bushes.
After what seemed like an eternity, his nausea eased and Ezra rolled onto his back, spent from the effort. He wished desperately for a drink of water, but there was none to be had. Heaving a weary sigh, he sat up and reached for the splints he had found earlier, tying pieces of parachute cord around them to hold them in place. He used a length of the webbed straps from his parachute harness as a crude sling, resting his newly-splinted arm in it carefully.
The sun was sinking lower in the sky and would soon disappear below the horizon. Ezra was exhausted, but he stubbornly pushed himself to his feet, leaning heavily on a tree for support. He needed to find a good place to spend the night, preferably near a source of water, though he wasn't counting on that. He hadn't seen any signs of water from the air and doubted he would encounter any before night fell and he was forced to stop. It would be far too dangerous for him to be stumbling blindly around the woods once it was dark. He already had one broken bone and didn't relish the thought of adding to the tally.
Ezra started off toward the east – at least he hoped it was east – limping his way through the trees. The forest here was dense, the ground uneven, and he quickly learned to keep an eye out for protruding tree roots. Thick underbrush hampered his efforts, clawing at his legs as he fought his way through, but he struggled on nonetheless, looking for a place that would at least provide some minimal shelter for the night.
Dusk had fallen before Ezra found a decent place to rest. He broke through some bushes into a small clearing that was reasonably level, bordered on one side by a large boulder, and surrounded by thick shrubbery. It wasn't the same as his soft mattress, but the layer of leaves that carpeted the ground was likely the best bed he would be able to find out here in the wilderness. Using his parachute pack – which still contained his backup chute – as a pillow, Ezra settled himself on the ground next to the boulder and quickly succumbed to his exhaustion.
Brian Wheeler clenched his fists tightly as the Forest Service helicopter flew high above the flaming wreckage below. His worst nightmare had just been confirmed. His little brother was dead, along with his six passengers. The force of the impact had scattered the wreckage over a wide area, leaving behind only tiny bits of debris amidst the inferno. As he watched the hungry flames devour the forest below, Brian knew that there was no way any of the unfortunate souls on board the plane could have survived such a horrendous crash.
He had heard his brother's last panicked words over the radio and had known even then that there was no hope. But seeing it firsthand still seemed so unreal. He could still picture Steve joking with Mark and Evan as they had boarded the plane, eager to begin the day's adventures. How could they have known that the engines would fail, that they would hit a pocket of turbulence, that this would be their last adventure? Brian lowered his head and started to cry.
Ezra awoke with a moan. Though he knew what to expect, he was still surprised by how much worse he felt today. Everything seemed to ache and he could have sworn that he heard his joints creaking as he crawled up to sit on the boulder next to which he had slept. One thing he wasn't imagining was the growling coming from his stomach. But it wasn't to be helped – not yet anyway.
Stretching carefully, Ezra eased himself to his feet, grimacing as his aching body protested the movement. Satisfied that he wasn't going to topple over, he checked his watch, groaning when he realized how early it was. With a sigh, he prepared to resume his journey, hoping he encountered a stream or other source of water soon, as his thirst was beginning to become more urgent.
The cool breeze across his neck made him shiver. It might be the middle of the summer, but the mountains were always much cooler than the city and his jumpsuit didn't provide much in the way of warmth. Ezra was thankful that he had kept his clothes on underneath the suit, unlike many of his fellow skydivers. Brian always teased him about having 'thin blood', but he always laughed it off, comfort being more important to him than his pride.
Ezra turned toward the rising sun and took a step, then stopped suddenly when a faint but familiar scent reached his nose. Smoke. He scanned the area intently, looking for a possible source of the odor, but found nothing in the immediate vicinity. Relaxing fractionally, he started walking again, pondering this new information.
It had been a dry spring and summer, and the entire area had been on alert for increased fire potential. Camping had been restricted in many wooded areas, much to Vin's dismay. Ezra had not paid it much attention at the time, but now he was starting to wish he had. If the fire officials had been concerned about campfires, then the flames resulting from the plane crash had an even greater potential to ignite a forest fire. Ezra sighed. He was injured, stuck in the middle of the wilderness without any food or water, and now there was a potential forest fire bearing down on him. And people called him lucky?
"Wow, look at that!" JD said in a voice filled with awe.
"What?" asked Buck as he came out of the kitchen with a sandwich.
"That." JD pointed at the television.
Buck looked at the screen and frowned at the fiery images being broadcast. He dropped onto the couch next to JD and concentrated on what was happening on the small screen.
Vin joined them a few minutes later, carrying a bag of potato chips. "What's up?" he asked as he flopped into one of the two recliners in Chris's living room.
"There's a forest fire burning up north," JD answered, without looking away from the screen.
"Been a dry summer," Vin said. "Not surprising to see that happen."
"You think the ranch is in danger?" JD asked, suddenly worried.
"Probably not," Vin answered. "That's a good distance away from here."
"What is?" asked Josiah as he entered the room.
"The fire," Vin replied, pointing at the television.
"Looks bad," Josiah remarked, taking a seat next to Buck. "Do they know how it started?"
"Yeah," Buck said. "There was a plane crash. Some group of skydivers had engine trouble while they were on the way to their jump site and went down in the forest." He shook his head sadly. "All of 'em were killed."
"Damn, that sucks," Vin commented.
Josiah nodded wordlessly in agreement.
"I wonder why they didn't just jump out?" JD queried. "I mean, if they were going skydiving, wouldn't they have parachutes on?"
"It's not that simple, kid," Vin answered. "If the plane was in trouble, they might not have been able to get out the door."
"Or they might have gotten hung up on the plane," Josiah added. "Saw that happen once when I was in the army."
"I don't know why anybody would want to jump out of a plane for fun," Nathan said with a shudder.
"It ain't so bad, Nate," Vin said.
"It's kind of a rush," Buck agreed.
"You guys have done that?" JD asked, surprise evident on his face.
"Yep," Vin said. "Had to do it a lot in the army."
Buck grinned. "Same here, 'cept me and Chris jumped for the Navy, usually into the ocean."
"Ain't nothin' like it," Vin said with a grin.
"Damn right," Buck said, slapping the younger man on the back. "It's as close as you can get to flying."
"I'd like to try it someday," JD said longingly.
"Well, don't come runnin' to me when you break your neck," Nathan said, shaking his head at the thought of any of his friends risking their lives for pleasure.
JD rolled his eyes but didn't comment, knowing that he wouldn't be able to change Nathan's mind.
"So, everybody up for some more riding?" Buck inquired, sensing the need to change the subject.
"Sure!" JD said enthusiastically. They hadn't been out riding much in the last few months, and JD was determined to do as much as possible before they had to return to the city tomorrow.
"Let's go," Vin said as he stood and stretched languidly.
The five men slowly filed from the room and headed for the barn, grabbing Chris as he exited the kitchen.
"Come on, pard," Buck said. "Let's ride."
The smoke was getting thicker, stinging his eyes and burning his throat with every breath he took. The forest was eerily quiet, and Ezra assumed all the wildlife had fled in the face of the oncoming fire. He trudged on, pushing his way through the thick foliage and searching vainly for water or food. He had been fortunate enough to find some wild blackberries earlier in the day, but hadn't found anything else he recognized as edible since then, despite closely scrutinizing most of the bushes and plants he encountered. As he walked along, he forced himself to ignore the increasing smoke and the various aches and pains that plagued him. The last thing he needed was to think about how close the fire might be or how unlikely it was that he was going to get out of this situation.
Wiping his arm across his face, Ezra plodded along, squinting against the smoke. He forced his way through a particularly tangled patch of brush only to find his foot meeting nothing but air. Startled, he drew back, gripping a nearby sapling for balance. Cautiously inching forward, he detected the welcome sound of moving water. A grin spread across his face as he negotiated the steep bank and headed for the small stream.
Sinking slowly to his knees, Ezra plunged his head into the icy water and slowly drank his fill. He sighed with pleasure as the cool water soothed his parched throat. With a soft grunt of pain, he eased himself to his feet and scanned the area. The stream was small, only five or six feet wide, and little more than a foot deep. It wasn't much, but it was the best thing he had seen since his untimely entry into this wilderness.
As he watched the water flow past, a flicker of movement caught his attention. Ezra peered intently toward the water, then smiled at the sight of the fish swimming by, sunlight glinting off of its silvery scales. He thought longingly of the fine dinner the fish would make and sighed in resignation. Vin had once shown him how to catch fish barehanded by scooping them quickly out of the water and throwing them onto the bank. It was surprisingly effective, but Ezra knew there was no way he would be able to catch a fish that way with only one good arm when even Vin had used both hands to perform the feat.
"My kingdom for a fishing pole," he sighed, rubbing his empty stomach as he climbed to his feet and studied his current location. The stream meandered its way through the woods in the same general direction he was heading, so Ezra decided to follow it. It would be good to have some water close at hand, at least for a little while.
Chris flipped through the folder in his hand as he made his way down the hall to his office. Travis had a new assignment for them, but it appeared to be an easy one – well, easy by their standards, anyway – which was a good thing, since he figured his team needed a break after the strain of their last case. His eyes still focused on the folder, Chris entered the main part of the office and called out, "Vin, Ez... my office."
"Ez ain't here yet, Chris," Vin said.
"What?" Chris looked up from his folder and over to Ezra's empty desk, then checked his watch. It was ten-thirty. He frowned. "It's late, even for him."
Buck looked over at him. "Maybe he decided to take an extra day off."
"He would have called," Chris said, his forehead creasing in concern.
Vin picked up his phone. "I'll give him a call."
"Transfer him to my office once you get him on the line," Chris said, turning toward his office.
Vin appeared in the doorway several minutes later. "He ain't home."
"You try his cell?" Chris asked.
"Yep. No answer."
"Damn." Chris leaned back in his chair. "Where the hell could he be?"
"Might just be sleepin' in," Vin postulated. "Want me to run by his place?"
Chris sighed. "Yeah. Tell him to get his lazy ass in here."
"You got it," Vin said with a grin.
It had rained briefly overnight and Ezra noticed that the scent of smoke had substantially diminished. He had spent another uncomfortable night lying in the dirt next to a tree and was still suffering from the resulting sore muscles and stiff neck as he traipsed wearily through the woods once again. The clinging dampness of his clothing didn't improve the situation any, either.
It was early afternoon before he realized that the stream he had been following had slowly curved and was now headed away from the easterly direction he was trying to maintain. He had been walking for hours, finding only a few berries and some wild leeks – one of the few edible wild plants he recognized – to sustain himself, and was now faced with losing his source of water as well.
Ezra halted at the edge of the water and crouched slowly, wrapping his good arm around his aching ribs to support them as he lowered his face into the water for a last drink. There was no way of knowing if he was going to encounter any more so he took advantage of this opportunity and drank as much water as he could, knowing that it would probably have to last him for a while. Wincing, he stood and took a last look at the stream, glistening in the sunlight as it threaded its way through the trees. With a sigh, Ezra turned and resumed his journey.
Chris frowned as he looked out into the bullpen. Ezra's desk was still vacant. It wasn't unusual for the undercover agent to be late, since he tended to keep odd hours, but there was a strange sense of foreboding gnawing at Larabee that he couldn't explain. It was as though he knew something was wrong but couldn't quite figure out what it was. The phone rang, ending his disquieting thoughts.
"Hey, cowboy," Vin said.
"Well?" Chris asked impatiently.
Vin sighed. "He ain't here."
"Damn." Chris frowned and ran a hand through his hair. "Any idea where he might have gone?"
"Nope," Vin replied. "His luggage is all here, I think, and there's a steak waitin' in the fridge. It doesn't look like he was planning to go too far. I'm gettin' a bad feelin' about this."
"Me too," Chris said somberly. "I think we better start looking for him."
"I'll ask around here," Vin offered. "Maybe his neighbors know something."
"We'll get started here," Chris said.
"I'll call if I get anything," Vin said as he hung up.
Chris replaced the receiver of the phone slowly. The feeling that something was wrong intensified, sitting like a leaden ball in his stomach. Shaking his head, he stood and headed for the outer office.
"Guys," he called to his team. "Conference room."
Dutifully, the four men filed into the room, taking their customary seats.
"Junior's not back yet?" Buck inquired, noting the absence of the sharpshooter.
"Ez wasn't at home," Chris replied, "and it looks like he wasn't planning an extended vacation. Vin's looking into it. Did he say anything to any of you guys?"
A chorus of "no's" was his answer.
"You think something's wrong?" Buck asked, recognizing the concern in his old friend's face.
Chris nodded. "Ez would have called if he was going to be late."
"I can check his credit card records," JD suggested hesitantly. "Maybe find out where he went this weekend." He knew Chris usually frowned upon illegal hacking, but JD thought he might make an exception in this case, since it would be faster than going through channels to get official permission to do so.
"Do it," Chris agreed.
"Don't you think we're jumping the gun a bit?" Nathan said. "I mean, it's not the first time Ezra's been late without calling. It's only noon. He's come in later than that before."
"It's possible, but something feels... wrong." Chris shrugged helplessly, unable to explain why he felt that way. "He wasn't exactly in the best frame of mind after we closed the case last week."
"He was kind of quiet," Buck admitted. "And he looked awfully tired."
"Perhaps he just needed some additional time to himself," Josiah suggested. "This last case was rough on him."
"He would have called, though," JD said insistently.
"Maybe not," Josiah said. "He might have been afraid we wouldn't leave him alone if he called in."
"Good point," Buck remarked. "Ez gets real touchy when he thinks we're buttin' in on his business."
"I'm sure he'll turn up, brother," Josiah said, patting Chris on the shoulder. "Ezra can take care of himself."
Chris sighed. "Yeah, maybe. But it wouldn't hurt to check things out." His lips quirked into a humorless smile. "Ez also has a knack for getting himself into trouble."
After stumbling for the fourth time in the growing darkness, Ezra finally decided to call it a night. He found a suitable spot and lowered himself to the ground, shifting to avoid a tree root that was digging into his back. Settling himself carefully, he lay his head on his pack and looked up at the sky. Stars twinkled faintly among the canopy of branches overhead, looking so much like diamonds on velvet in a jeweler's display. Ezra marveled, as always, at how the heavenly bodies seemed to multiply away from the lights of the urban areas he usually favored. He had always found his peace in the neon and noise of the city, but he could understand how people could find their tranquility out in the wilderness, with the sky open and sparkling above them.
The greedy side of him wished that the stars truly were diamonds that he could pluck from the sky at will. Ezra laughed aloud at the thought. Diamonds certainly wouldn't be of much use in his current position. A cell phone, on the other hand, would be much more valuable to him right now than any precious gems.
Ezra chuckled again at the thought of his teammates' reactions to his current predicament if he had a cell phone with which to call them. Chris would favor him with his patented glare and threaten to lock him up and throw away the key. Nathan would hound him about his injuries while Josiah subjected him to a lecture on the error of his ways. Vin would laugh at his lack of wilderness expertise, egged on, no doubt, by Buck and JD. Ezra smiled and pushed away his wandering thoughts. If only there was some chance of that happening.
Ezra wondered what his associates were thinking about his absence. He had been with the team for nearly a year, but he was not certain that they had completely accepted him. His relationship with them had become less fractious, but he was still unsure of where he stood. Would they attribute his disappearance to some selfish action on his part? It wasn't going to be easy for them to prove otherwise, since he had participated in this activity under an alias. Ezra snorted. If they did think ill of him, he supposed he couldn't blame them. He had, after all, rebuffed their weekend invitation. In retrospect, he supposed that was somewhat selfish of him, but he had honestly needed to be alone and had been afraid that they wouldn't understand if he tried to explain his reasons.
"Now look where you've ended up," Ezra chided himself. It definitely wasn't
how he envisioned spending his weekend.
