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Coconut Trees
by Anton M.
Chapter 17: Mil Mi-17
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Snow glistened in the low but bright sunshine.
Happy, bewildered eyes met before the group walked back to the fire. Fatemeh and Mary added damp branches to the embers before they crackled and caught on fire. Smoke rose high into the air, and the group, now eleven people (Dame Catherine was alone in the plane), surrounded the fire. The atmosphere felt lighter, full of laughter and relief, and everyone felt the change without words.
"Should we get all the food here and have a proper lunch?" Orri asked, rubbing his back.
"Elizabeth looks like she might pass out if we don't," Roger said, squeezing her shoulder. "You okay?"
Elizabeth nodded, smiling tightly. Her usual involvement, keeping herself useful, teasing, challenging and arguing for the best solution had taken a backseat to her exhaustion.
The group placed suitcases, clothing and books—whatever could separate them from the cold, snowy ground—around the fire for seating. Carefully, they helped Dame Catherine out of the plane so that she, too, could sit beside the fire. She was annoying to be sure but she was, after all, one of them.
Galley boxes filled with food were gathered—sandwiches, pretzels, sweets, chips. Nothing was spared. Kitty and Lei discovered a hidden drawer nobody had known existed, full of soft beverages: Coke, Sprite, and a Chinese Hawthorn Berry Drink. Everyone received several sandwiches, and the sweet sound of cans opening surrounded them. The air crackled with relief.
"What's the time?" Kitty asked, looking at the bright sun on the horizon. It rose late and set early, but they had no reference for when it was supposed to rise or set.
"My watch says 1:15 PM," William Collins, the ever-silent man, replied.
"That's for Beijing, though," Charlotte said. "My guess is that it's a bit more here, since the sun is so low... but who knows."
They bit into their cold sandwiches with unparalleled enthusiasm and spoke with mouths half-full, just because they could. Hot tea made in a galley box was so popular they had to boil snow twice. Eyes twinkled and jokes were shared.
"Oh, fuck," Orri cursed. "Are we supposed to leave some food for later? You know, in case shit hits the fan?"
"What, like a nuclear war breaks out in the next two hours?" Lei asked. People laughed.
It was perhaps too cautious, but given that they were still away from civilization in the depths of Siberia, they voted to allow everyone to eat one full sandwich and more snacks than usual, but keep the rest for later. They agreed to skip dinner if the promised rescue helicopter did not appear.
Besides, Lydia's sickness was fresh on everyone's minds. It felt endlessly tempting to gulp down every single scrap of food with a hint of calorie content, but the group agreed that—starving as they were—at least an attempt to adjust to normal amounts of food had to be made.
"What about the fancy vodka Yaroslav gave us?" Orri asked, eyes glinting as he twirled the bottle. "We should at least take a shot for a celebration, ehh?"
"How about—wherever they put us, we'll have that with dinner tomorrow," Elizabeth suggested. "All of us, or as many as can come. What do you think?"
"I like it," Mary replied. "Something to look forward to. A farewell party, perhaps, since we'll all be leaving for our homes soon."
It felt strange to feel sad for the future, but the group fell silent as a dozen pairs of eyes filled with something akin to shock. They had shared stories and jokes, they had yelled and argued, laughed and cried. They had mourned the loss of their loved ones. The camaraderie among them was, truly, something they would miss, and it felt sobering to realize that most of them would never see each other again.
Kitty cleared her throat. "This is what I don't understand," she said. "Why did Sam take off his belt after the rescue arrived? It makes no sense!"
Elizabeth stopped chewing, and when she raised her sleep-deprived eyes, they met with Mary's, and then Roger's—people who had found and lost a love they felt as deeply as they wished to breathe. As twisted as it felt, Elizabeth knew exactly why Sam did what he did.
Sam woke up to a reality of full of excruciating pain without the love of his life. The freshness of his loss added to his hunger, exhaustion, sleep deprivation, and physical pain, might've made him feel a different kind of relief at the rescue's arrival. Maybe for him, it was a sign that he didn't have to hold on anymore. There was a world without pain for him at his fingertips, perhaps with his husband, and they had denied him of that.
Elizabeth allowed herself to imagine a future in which she flew to Yakutsk only to have a doctor tell her that Darcy had stopped breathing. How would she cope? She would have to fly back to London to meet an excited, overjoyed family in a state of abject misery, grieving for the life she never got to experience with Darcy while surrounded by endless questions and happiness.
Perhaps she'd walk into his studio apartment, full of their memories together, never getting to experience the effects of their growth, separate and together. He was so different than he'd been two years ago and yet just the same. It would be unimaginable torture to have that future ripped from her.
Elizabeth didn't know if she would've made the same choice as Sam had, had their roles been reversed, but it would've been tempting to think about. All Sam had to do was untie that belt. No knives, no bullets, no hassle. Just an end to the pain.
"You're a bit stupid, you know," Lei told Kitty, without emotion.
"Hey!" Kitty defended. "I'm the best in my class!"
Lei stared at her, chewing, blinking, watching her.
"You're going home to a fucking family," he accused. "Both parents, eagerly waiting. Do you know what it's going to be like for me to call my dad and tell him my mom is dead? Or deliver news of my sister? Fuck, if Juan had died I don't know what I would've done. You didn't have to sleep two fucking metres away from the dead bodies of your—"
Lei cut himself off and blinked back tears, staring at a spot in the fire. Juan, scared, gripped Lei's knee and spoke in Mandarin, but Lei shook his head and ignored him. Roger squeezed Lei's shoulder, and the rest of the survivors pretended not to see the tears in the boy's eyes.
"I'm sorry," Kitty whispered, pursing her lips in a sad smile. Elizabeth rubbed Kitty's back. It was good that not all of them knew that kind of pain, and it wasn't Kitty's fault that she hadn't lost anyone.
It was heavy and complicated, leaving the crash site behind. The hope and relief were undeniable, but many of them were still in shock or denial about the loved ones they'd lost. Nobody wanted to scratch that scab because it was too fresh, and having to be on survival mode, solving problems, saving lives, acting and reacting, it all allowed them to pretend that maybe the scab had healed. But if you looked back at the wound, maybe there was no scab yet. Just bleeding.
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Fortunately, their camaraderie had allowed them to get to know each other well enough that the heavier topics didn't linger, at least not for long.
Dusk approached, and there was still a lot to discuss and figure out—and if there ever was a solution to something as heavy as grief, it was solving problems and taking action. Distraction. None of the dozen survivors knew if they were allowed bigger luggage or if those who had passed away would join the flight, but together, they made sure that all of them were dressed. Everyone prepared their carry-ons, adding whatever felt useful—any clean socks or underwear (if there was any in their size), passports. Elizabeth took photos.
Kitty, sorting through her purse, realized that her credit card was missing. Charlotte, after a bit of searching, came to the same conclusion until all dozen people checked if they still had their debit or credit cards.
Only Lei, Roger and Dame Catherine still had their cards. Lei got his mother's credit card from her back pocket. Dame Catherine kept her small designer purse in a hidden pocket in her frozen fur coat, and Roger had never taken it out of the pocket of his pants to begin with.
"Does everyone still have their passports?" Elizabeth asked.
Everyone except Mary nodded.
"I never found my purse after the accident," she said. "I think it's either frozen under the snow or broken into enough pieces that it's useless. But I don't have one."
"There's no way that the British embassy wouldn't find a solution for you," Orri assured her.
Concerned eyes met.
"Wickham and Lydia?" Roger asked.
"Probably," Charlotte replied.
"Stupid fuckers. I will put all my money on Cleveland Browns next year if those two survived wherever they disappeared to."
"I heard the Browns are shit," Lei replied. Mary admonished both men, but they ignored her.
"Oh they are," Roger replied. "That's the point. I doubt our credit cards are of much use to those two when a bear decides it's hungry."
"That still means we have issues," Elizabeth said, ignoring the two. "We'll all need to buy stuff, now that we're headed back to civilization. Do you think they'll pay for our hotel, food and other necessities? And even if they would, they'd probably pay after the fact. We probably need working credit cards."
"I'd happily help but I'm afraid I might not have enough for a dozen people," Roger said.
"I don't know how much mom and dad have," Lei said. "But I'll share whatever it is."
Elizabeth gave Lei a sad smile. "That's not right. We shouldn't have to do that. We'll figure something out."
"I'll do it," Dame Catherine said. "For centuries, de Bourghs have been known for their endless magnanimity to those less fortunate than them. I will not even ask for interest when you pay the money back to me in a few months' time."
"The magna-what?" Lei asked.
Incredulous, amused eyes met, and many stifled their smiles.
"Your generosity knows no bounds, Dame Catherine," Elizabeth said, too tired to hide her sarcasm. Kitty hid her giggles in her scarf.
"Thank you, Dame Catherine," Mary said, voice level but eyes twinkling.
The Dame shut her eyes and bowed, as if the multi-millionaire actress was sacrificing her only daughter for their well-being and not loaning an amount that, for her, wasn't even pocket change. But they had no other choice but to take her up on her offer.
They no longer had phones or laptops, at least not intact. Sam, Lei, Roger and Elizabeth had disassembled most of them to the point of no recognition, mostly for batteries but sometimes for other parts, too. The only phone that could've been put back together was Sam's, as it was the sustainable Fairphone, an engineer's dream, but being an engineer's dream, it had been the easiest to disassemble. They had not had time to focus on separating one phone's parts from another, and therefore the possibility of putting anything back together was purely theoretical.
They'd have to rely on the rescue team and their respective embassies to get in touch with their families. However, seeing as they were unlikely survivors of a plane crash, they hoped to meet more hospitality than hostility.
Most people packed the remaining parts of their phones and laptops, however disassembled, in the hopes that any personal pictures or sentimental messages could be saved. Elizabeth did the same both with her own phone and with Darcy's laptop and phone.
Handbags, backpacks and suitcases were packed in the beautiful orange dusk. Elizabeth had a silly moment of nostalgia and took a few clean clothing items that belonged to Darcy in addition to his bracelet box and cologne, more as a reassurance of his survival than an actual need. She ensured that her camera was safe multiple times, but unzipped it when the faintest sound of a distant helicopter reached the survivors. Everyone ran outside.
In the beautiful orange dusk, with snow glinting in the sunset, a massive, scary-looking helicopter approached and landed even lower on the flat mountainside than Katya's Sapsan had landed. Doors opened, and half a dozen men and women jumped out.
"Ahoy!" A tall woman in a white onesie, called. She had short blonde hair, impeccable make-up and red earmuffs. "I'm Maisie. We received word not even a minute ago from Katya that the first few people have now been delivered to the hospital."
Her Scottish accent was so heavy that Roger scratched his head. Mary, grinning, translated what Maisie had said.
Eyes were shining as the rescue team, all grinning and joking, reached the survivors. Complete strangers hugged each other, joking, laughing, sharing information.
The international rescue team, one of three, consisted of a talkative Frenchman, Thayer, two people from the UK, Maisie and Lakshmi, a Polish man Filip from Germany, and two Americans, Santiago and Pauline.
"What took you so long?!" Kitty accused, smiling.
"The first 24 hours? Politics." Thayer scratched his beard. He had a French accent. "The 24 after that, politics and weather, and then, location and weather. You're somewhere between 300 to 400 kilometres off course to the east, which is not huge in the grand scheme of things but still contributed to the delay. Frankly, we thought the wreck was closer to the border of Russia with China. We're the only rescue team more than 500 kilometres north from the border."
Maisie delivered shiny thermal blankets for all survivors. The survivors were allowed one piece of hand luggage, each, and Mary kindly took Darcy's bag as she didn't have her own, and added a few items for herself. Maisie, Filip and Santiago felt a bit awe-struck in front of Dame Catherine, but fifteen minutes of interaction with the actress cured them of their speechlessness.
Dead bodies had to be left behind for the next helicopter. The Mi-17 was a massive feat of engineering, but it did not have a compartment for cargo big enough for all of them. However, extra tarp was added and secured to avoid animals from scavenging on the bodies, and the rescuers had strict instructions not to leave any food behind for similar reasons.
An attempt was made to find tracks of Wickham and Lydia in the forest, but the dusk was falling and the efforts quickly abandoned.
"There's a tiny village, Chagda, maybe 50 to 100 kilometres southeast from this place, but your friends would have to have been exceptional winter-hardened hikers and hunters to make it there alive."
The rescuers did not pretend that their companions would be found alive, but they promised to deliver the message of the two missing people to the next helicopter heading for the crash site.
The luggage was already delivered to the helicopter when the last preparations for leaving were made. Orri and Charlotte saved Elizabeth's transmitter, forming an almost-bag of the four sides of the cotton cloth but leaving the box of batteries behind.
Lei was checking on his mother's handbag for Juan's passport when Elizabeth leaned against the wall next to the lavatory. Exhausted and running on fumes, she put away her nearly-dead camera (running on its last spare battery), and observed the insides of the airplane.
It had been a place of horror and shelter, of making new memories and mourning, of fear and… love. Whatever else had happened, she'd reunited with Darcy because of this event, and she felt incredibly grateful for that. She would never again see the piles of suitcases, the tarp, the boxes full of pieces of electronics. She'd never feel this particular heavy stench in the air or see the two lights Sam had made only 24 hours ago.
Lei hopped off the plane, and suddenly, it all felt abandoned and historical. A piece of history was made within these walls, and it was time, now, to leave it all behind.
She felt changed.
Elizabeth hopped off the plane, took one glance at the airplane, and joined Roger after he had put out the fire with a few galley boxes full of water, just in case. It was decided to leave the airplane door open for the next patch of rescuers coming to gather the dead bodies that could be recovered, and the fresh scent of human habitation would hold off wild animals for at least a few days.
Elizabeth took a photo of the airplane in the beautiful but now dimming orange sky, turning bluer by the minute, and Roger put his arm over her shoulder as, together, the two joined the line walking toward the helicopter. They locked eyes after both had looked back, and Roger squeezed her shoulder.
"Can you imagine?"
He did not specify what, but Elizabeth understood. She felt an intense sense of nostalgia, which made no sense at all. She had made friends and memories in a situation that felt incompatible with both, but she dearly hoped the group would, despite all odds, keep in contact.
Together, they had gone through something few would ever understand, and kept themselves alive to tell the story.
Above all else, she needed Darcy to make it like she needed air to breathe.
"I can't," Elizabeth replied, smiling through her shimmering eyes. She was at that point of exhaustion and sleeplessness where the simplest things made her emotional, and when she stepped into the helicopter's belly from behind, taking a seat on the side, facing the others, the air buzzed around her. Exhaustion, disbelief, excitement—no camera could've captured it all.
The door was closed, seatbelts fastened, and Elizabeth, barely keeping her eyes open, pushed up the curtain of the small window behind her. The chopper lifted off, louder than any of them had expected, and all watched, in silence, as the broken airplane and the mountainside grew smaller in the beautiful dusky nightfall. A few stars had become visible.
The eyes of the survivors met, exhilarated, amazed, and tired beyond words. Suddenly, spontaneously, the entire group started whistling, clapping, laughing and crying—all at once. The rescuers grinned at them, clapping along, glad to be a part of the survivors' happiness and yet barely comprehending the depth of it.
"Holy shit," Roger said, across from Elizabeth. "We fucking made it."
The calorie-dense protein bars that were given out had never had a more receptive audience.
Maisie started writing down their details—citizenship, identification, contact details of their families. Everyone involved in the rescue was given strict orders not to reveal the discovery before survivors had contacted their families, but the rescue had began with civilians, and internet forums were abuzz with rumours of the SOS signals. It was only a matter of hours before the world would know about them, but before they did, everyone was allowed a phone call home to give their families the best surprise in the world. Their loved ones deserved a phone call before discovering a picture of them shared on Facebook.
Unexpectedly—because none of the survivors had had time to think about it—administrative tasks awaited them. None of them had a visa, technically, to be allowed in Russia, and yet here they were. Temporary visas had to be issued, paperwork filled, phones purchased.
Elizabeth gave Maisie her details first before she closed her eyes, leaning slightly against Mary's shoulder.
"Do you mind if I—?" Elizabeth asked, barely a question, and Mary adjusted herself before she smiled and nodded.
"Of course, my dear."
Elizabeth barely heard her reply before she fell asleep against Mary's shoulder.
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A/N: Thank you so much for reading! You make sharing my stories such a joy.
Your thoughts make my vacation in a way I can't really describe. Thank you for sharing them.
