"We've got a black SUV down here."
Megan grabbed her radio. "Say again?"
"A black SUV," the chopper pilot radioed. "Looks like government plates."
"Any sign of survivors?" She looked at David as they both held their breath.
After an eternity the pilot answered. "Looks like two sets of tracks moving away from the vehicle."
"Thank God," Megan sighed. "Can you follow them?"
"Will do," the pilot assured her. "Give me five."
David was already dialing Alan's phone. "Alan? They found Don's SUV."
"And?" Alan begged.
"There are two sets of tracks moving away from it. The chopper's trying to track them as we speak."
"I'll be right there," Alan told him.
"Helo One to Agent Reeves," the chopper pilot radioed again.
"Go ahead."
"Followed the tracks into the tree line. Looks like they were seeking shelter in the woods."
"Can you land there?"
"No ma'am – too steep. But we could drop a rescue crew down. Raise them back up in a basket."
"Sounds like a plan," Megan replied. "Can you call up your crew and get them in there?"
"I'll have to go pick them up. Be about an hour and we'll be in business."
"Roger that," Megan answered as Alan's car appeared over the hill. She led David over to share the good news.
--
Charlie leaned against the rough bark of the tree, the warm breeze dancing across his cheeks. His tears had long since dried up, leaving only tell-tale tracks in their wake. Staring ahead, yet seeing nothing, he sat as still as a statue as he held his brother to his chest. Don lay unmoving in his arms, his head resting on his brother's shoulder. Charlie's head rested atop Don's, yet he was oblivious to the feel of the soft brown hair against his cheek. Don had died. His lungs had given up, refusing to take in another breath. His heart had stopped, deciding that beating was just too much work.
But Don – his brother – hadn't given up, finally responding to Charlie's frantic calls and CPR. Don had began breathing, had ordered his heart to resume beating, and now he lay cocooned in Charlie's arms, living to fight another day.
"Thank you," Charlie whispered softly as he hugged Don even closer to him. "Thank you for coming back to me."
Charlie lapsed back into silence as he thought of how he was going to carry Don by himself. As much as he wanted to, he knew his knee would never be able to bear all of their weight. Charlie briefly toyed with the idea of some kind of travois, but was too tired to figure out the best way to make one.
He idly noticed a thumping sound in the distance and his weary mind slowly began to place it. A helicopter? Were there rescuers searching for them after all? Charlie wanted nothing more to sprint back out of the woods and wave them down, but he couldn't bring himself to leave Don, afraid that his brother would pass away in his absence. Instead, Charlie held the other man even tighter, closed his eyes, and made the most desperate prayer he'd ever done before.
As the minutes ticked by, Charlie began to worry that he should have gone for help after all. But then he heard a loud rustling of brush and two men's voices calling out. "Agent Eppes? Charles Eppes? Are you here?"
"Over here!" Charlie screamed frantically. His spirits lifted as two rescue workers came trotting toward him. "Thank God," he whispered in relief.
"Charles Eppes?" the first rescuer asked as he knelt by his side. At Charlie's nod, he smiled. "We've been looking for you two. I'm Pete, that's Rob."
Rob winked at the younger man as he radioed back to the chopper. "We've got them." He watched his partner check Don's vitals. Pete nodded and the other man continued, "They're both alive. Repeat… they are alive."
Charlie couldn't help the smile that lit up his face at those words. Pete smiled back. "Don't you worry – we're going to take really good care of you two." Charlie nodded and answered a never-ending stream of questions from the medic. In a daze, he stood and followed the two men as they carried his brother out of the woods. Charlie peered up at the loud helicopter hovering above them as Don was slowly raised up in the bright orange basket. Next was his turn and he soon found himself on board the chopper. Pete and Rob quickly joined him and hollered at the pilot to head for the hospital.
Only then did Charlie allow himself to let go and slip into darkness.
--
"My sons," Alan demanded as he stormed up to the ER's admission desk. "Charles and Don Eppes – where are they?"
The nurse opened her mouth to protest but stopped short as Megan and David flashed their badges. "Don Eppes is a special agent with the FBI," David told her. "Charlie is his brother. We need to know their conditions, please."
"Of course," the nurse nodded as she checked her files. "Ah yes, they were brought in a little while ago..." She hesitated as she read the list. "Yes, they were taken back immediately to be worked on. If you'll follow me, I'll show you to the doctor's office and you can wait in private."
"That would be very kind of you," Megan smiled.
They followed the nurse to a modest-sized office and each took a seat in the comfortable plush chairs. Alan silently stared at the deep, rich wood finish on the desktop as he thought about his sons. "Do you think they'll be all right?"
Megan glanced at David. "The medics sounded hopeful when they radioed in. Don't you think so?"
"Yes," David agreed. "Very hopeful. I'm sure they'll be fine, Alan."
"Poor Donny," Alan whispered. "He was already so sick..."
"But he had Charlie with him," Megan pointed out. "And I know that Charlie took good care of him."
"I just don't know what I'd do if I lost them..." Alan trailed off. He shook his head and forced the thoughts aside. "Look at me being so negative. Of course they'll be okay." He met the two agents' stares. "And do you know why they'll be okay?"
"Why?" David asked.
"Because they're the two most frustratingly stubborn boys a father could ever have. And it's that determination that will get them through this."
Megan beamed at Alan. "I can definitely believe that."
"Ah, you're here for the Eppes men?" a tall, silver haired man in a white lab coat asked as he strode into the room.
"Yes," Alan nodded, his voice dropping a bit as his confidence wavered. He felt like a man about to be given a life or death sentence.
"I'm Doctor Andrews, and I am handling both of your sons cases."
"Both?" Alan asked curiously.
"Yes," the older man smiled. "Charlie's injuries, while painful, weren't life threatening and didn't require immediate treatment. He seemed a little reluctant to leave his brother, so I decided it would be easier if we kept them together."
"What about Don?" Alan croaked, his mouth having suddenly gone dry.
"Don's case was a little more severe, I'm afraid. He was badly dehydrated, a combination of blood loss and a recent, ongoing bout with salmonella."
"Food poisoning," Alan whispered. "No wonder he seemed so ill."
"Yes," Andrews nodded. "It would have been mild in the early stages, but the effects were exacerbated by the blood loss."
"But he's going to be all right?" asked Alan.
"Yes, he will," Andrews smiled. "But he is in for a rather lengthy recovery. I wish I had better news about that."
"My sons are going to be all right," Alan replied. "That's the best news I've heard all day."
TBC