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Coconut Trees
by Anton M.
Chapter 16: Sapsan
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The grey helicopter descended a few hundred metres downhill from the crash, blowing snow into the survivor's faces as they squinted at its landing. The chopper's rotors slowed down. A woman, in full military gear (with the exception of a gun), threw a bag in the snow before she hopped off. Her red braid contrasted against her green uniform, and her face was covered in freckles.
The second door opened, and a man hopped off from the other side. He was short, had a moustache, and looked quite strict until he held out his phone and put his index finger against the corner of his lip, indicating a smile, but their grins couldn't be wiped off their faces if they tried. The man clicked a few photos of the bewildered survivors.
"Good afternoon," the woman said in a heavy Russian accent. Her smile was cheeky. "I hope we are welcome visitors?"
"Godsent," Mary whispered, still crying. The survivors formed a line in front of the pair, all covering their eyes from the sun, all squinting.
"My name is Ekaterina Egorkova. Please call me Katya and be patient with my English. I do not use it often."
"Your voice is the most beautiful sound I've ever heard," Orri said, unironically.
The entire group, including Katya, laughed.
"I find you happy. Good. My companion is Yaroslav Sidorov. He does not speak English." She motioned for the people to start moving toward the plane. "We are not here for you. I am military training instructor, but we were closest. We have instructions to take most injured of you to the hospital because my Sapsan can only fit four passengers—three of you."
Because of the snow, the survivors returned to the plane in an organized queue, grinning and teary, in full disbelief of the pair's surreal presence among them.
"We're in Russia?" Charlotte half-asked, half-yelled.
"Yes," Katya answered. "Maybe 200, 300 kilometres south of Yakutsk. East Siberia. There is Mi-17 at my tail, coming from east. That helicopter can easily fit all of you but it will take a few hours to get here. I have full medical training. We will do our best."
Anna stepped off the queue in the snow, standing knee-deep in it until the Russians caught up with her.
The discovery that Russians were among the survivors made Yaroslav grin and laugh with unexpected enthusiasm, and none of the survivors had the heart to interrupt their quick-sounding Russian. By the time they entered the plane, Anna had made sure that the Russians knew about Darcy, Sam, Li, and her baby.
When Elizabeth entered the plane behind them, she had the strangest sense of almost-déjà vu. Obviously, she'd been in the plane in its current state before, but suddenly she saw it with the eyes of Katya and Yaroslav, and it was a sobering experience.
Heavy, moist stench hung in the air, clothes were haphazardly strewn on the seats, oxygen masks hung from the ceiling, pale toes peeked out from underneath the tarp, suitcases were piled up wherever floor space existed, and the lavatory stunk. The half-torn, half-broken plane wall was stuffed with random pieces of clothing in the cracks to avoid wind from blowing through after they hit holes in it at night.
It was strange, because Elizabeth had seen the place exactly like this not even half an hour ago, but seeing it through the eyes of a stranger felt surreal. It no longer felt like a temporary home and shelter but an odd moment in history, a picture of survival.
Dame Catherine started talking in her annoying, commanding tone of voice as Lei and Juan waved at the newcomers, but what caught Elizabeth's attention was Sam's ghostly but peaceful smile. It took her a fraction of a second too long to realize the reason, and she was on Roger's and Fatemeh's tail as they half-ran, half-jumped over the seats to reach Sam.
They were too late.
Blood covered Roger's pants after Sam had untied the belt from around his thigh.
"You did it, Elizabeth," Sam whispered with that same ghostly smile. "Now I can rest."
"You stupid fuck," Roger yelled, fighting with Sam before Orri held Sam down with his weight. Katya and Roger retied and tightened the belt around his thigh. The blood stopped gushing, but Sam, still with that eerie smile on his face, slipped into unconsciousness.
Elizabeth felt a strange mixture of wanting to strangle him... and cry.
Stupefied eyes met, in disbelief of what Sam had done to himself.
"He's going into shock," Katya said, voice loud but calm as she pressed her hand against Sam's neck to feel his pulse. "Does anyone know his blood type?"
Heads were shaken.
"Universal donor?"
Yaroslav unzipped their military-grade medical kit, sorting and lifting stuff on the side with speed that was a marvel to witness.
Charlotte, Kitty, Dame Catherine and Elizabeth raised their hands.
"Negative?"
Three hands fell. Elizabeth's was the only one up.
"His pulse is rapid." Katya said matter-of-factly. "We will wait for confirmation of your blood type as we draw your blood, but if it takes too long—how sure are you?"
"I have three sisters and both parents with the same blood type. I've donated before. I'm sure."
"Good. Sit here." Katya and Yaroslav put everyone to work—to hold medical equipment, bags, syringes. Yaroslav shoved a tiny box of what appeared to be juice into Elizabeth's hands, opening it and motioning for her to gulp it down. "Any medical conditions?" Katya asked.
"None."
"I'm assuming you're hungry. You will faint. Drink."
Elizabeth gulped down the apple juice, sweeter than she'd ever tasted, feeling more than seeing the scared, wide eyes of the fellow survivors on her. Kitty ran to their galley boxes and returned with dragon's beard candy. Katya gave her a thumbs up as Kitty unwrapped it and gave it to Elizabeth.
"We might not have time to wait for results of rapid test for HIV and hepatitis. We will take that risk. To the best of your knowledge, do you have what I mentioned?"
"No."
"Good. Weight?"
"8 stone 12."
"I don't know what that means."
"Maybe 55 kilograms or so," Mary said.
"Good."
Elizabeth took off three layers of jackets and sweaters before Katya lowered her seat, closest to Sam, and applied a tourniquet on Elizabeth's upper arm. Yaroslav prickled her finger for the rapid tests. Katya punctured the vein on the inside of her elbow and secured the needle, giving the blood bag for a nauseated-looking Orri. Charlotte replaced him. It was when Yaroslav kneeled on the floor to measure Sam's blood pressure that the world started fading away from Elizabeth, and the words shared around her felt like they were coming from the end of a tunnel. She blacked out.
Blood rushed in her ears as she came to, and the sun blinded her through the window. She shifted. Sweaters and jackets were piled on top of her.
"You are okay. Just faint. You have not eaten properly in many days. It was expected." Katya patted her shoulder. Elizabeth's inner elbow had a bandaid of a cotton bud and tape. She tightened and loosened her grip, trying to get her blood flowing again. Slowly, she started putting her layers back on.
"You were correct," Katya continued. "You are 0 negative and there is no sign of HIV or hepatitis. We got all results before giving your friend your blood. We are almost done, now, and his blood pressure is improving."
Katya, thankful that Darcy had received cipro in the morning, injected Darcy with ceftriaxone. It was the best they could do under the circumstances, and the doctors in the hospital would have to do the rest. Elizabeth emphasized several times that his pneumonia seemed to be resistant to penicillin, and Katya assured her that she'd inform the doctors.
She gave the other dose to Sam as required by the protocol for buddy transfusion in the field.
Elizabeth sat up. Carefully, although still feeling dizzy, she sat in front of Darcy's stomach and whispered words of love in his ear before Orri and Roger carried him out of the plane and into the helicopter. Darcy did not attempt to walk and did not seem fully conscious. His chin rested against his chest at a strange angle but the men managed the task.
Sam followed. Yaroslav taped his wrists behind his back after he sat in the helicopter (presumably) for fear that the man would try to remove his make do tourniquet, mid-flight.
A small argument broke out over who would get chosen as the third person. Charlotte, even with a wire through her chest, dismissed being chosen immediately. She had seemed to be one of the most injured on the first night but she'd actually managed incredibly well given that her wound was stable. William Collins, too, probably had multiple fractured ribs but motioned at Li when asked how bad his injuries were. It was, in the end, Dame Catherine who expressed her strong (whiny) opinions about her feet, and while she was correct that she needed medical attention, the group decided on a democratic approach to the decision and voted for Li and baby Darcy to take the last spot.
Li cried and hugged everyone as she sat in the helicopter. Fatemeh and Mary stocked her up with a sandwich, a bottle of water, a bag of white rabbit and several towels for little Darcy. Hopeful goodbyes were said in gestures more than words.
Yaroslav took something from the helicopter before he handed a beautiful white-and-gold bottle of Tsarskaya vodka to Fatemeh, yelling something in Russian.
"He said that he was keeping it for special occasion but he wants you all to have it because nothing will ever be more special than this," Katya translated.
"Thank you," Fatemeh said, accepting the gift in spite of not being able to drink it. "That's very kind."
Katya smiled at the survivors. "You are inspiring bunch, surviving mid-winter in Siberia! Enjoy your hour of knowing that you will be rescued. I will take these four to Yakutsk City Hospital, and you will meet again in a few hours. All the very best!"
"One more question, Katya," Elizabeth said, holding on to Kitty's shoulder for balance. "Who picked up our signal?"
"Some old lady called Evangeline picked it up in middle of nowhere in Alaska. Icelandic, I heard. She informed her daughter-in-law who has connections in US military. We received rough estimate of your location from them."
Katya grinned, saluted them, and entered the helicopter. This time, the remaining group backed off not to be hit with snow as the rotors gathered speed and the chopper lifted off. Everyone waved, squinting at the sun, disbelief and hope filling them. The sound of the chopper was replaced by the quiet sounds of nature as the Sapsan, once again, turned into a dot on the horizon.
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A/N: Hi. Lovely seeing you! I hope my husband doesn't pay you (too much) to say all those kind things about my writing.
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