Thank you all for your views! Really pleased by the traffic this story is getting. Don't forget to review, I love reading them! Once again, sorry for any errors below. This was written kind of quickly. Should have another chapter up by the end of the week. For those following my Beauty and the beast story, there will be an update on Saturday. Thank you lovely people!
S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_
Hank focused snow-blinded dark eyes toward the direction of the lonely shack that still seemed to be eons and ages away, feeling as if the journey would never end. Stumbling through the thigh deep snow, his twisted ankle long ago forgotten as the icy cold numbed the pain, Hank was nearly dragging himself and his sister through the drifts, well aware that they were losing valuable energy. However, without adequate shelter they would not survive. His long fingers, stiff beneath his gloves, ached to the bone. The left wrist, twisted in the tumble down the mountain, felt weak and shaky. Strong muscular arms, cradling his sister against his chest, were trembling from cold and exhaustion. Dark spots appeared before his eyes for a moment as he stumbled, and fell to his knees, eyes closing as the relief of stopping flooded through every bone in the fire captain's body, allowing him to catch his breath. A sharp pain rose in the furrowed brow at the sudden stop then subsided to a dull ache. Resting his forehead on his sisters arm for a moment, Hank tried not to think of how far they still had to go, and then raised his head to look at her as best as he could in the darkness. She was still and quiet. "Hey, Ash, honey," he whispered in a voice faint and unsteady with exhaustion and cold. "Don't you leave old Hank out here in the cold by himself now, okay? He doesn't like being alone. Ashley?"
He frowned in concern and quickly brushed back the snowflakes from his sister's face and shook his head. Snapping his frozen fingers clumsily near her ear, he tried to get a response from her – any response would do. Pulling his glove off his good hand with his teeth he felt for a carotid pulse. Blowing out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, he realized that Ashley was merely unconscious. Struggling to pull on his glove with fingers that refused to obey him, he had never felt so hopeless in his life. If he wept in the cover of the darkness and snow, it was something in the years to come that he would never mention. With a grunt of exhaustion, he stumbled to his feet again and kept walking. He walked and he walked. The snow pattered around them in a blinding curtain. Its icy touch became tiring to Hank and he gritted his teeth against the weariness that crept into his very bones. He took a few more weak steps and nearly lost his footing. He was nearly done. Glancing around for the cabin, he saw it still around a half hour away. A whimper escaped his blue lips as he closed his eyes for a second, drawing on reserves of strength he just did not have. He took another step and sank to his waist in the deepening snow. Coordination was failing him, and each muscle burned from the overexertion. Gritting his teeth again, Hank tried to take another step. Somehow his knees gave way, causing his feet to slip and like a lead rock he fell onto his back in the snow. The sudden jolt brought a small whine came from his sister's still form as she landed on his chest but remained unconscious. Gasping for breath, the fire captain knew he was spent. He had no energy left. "I'm sorry, Ash." he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut against the onslaught of snowflakes falling into them. "I'm sorry." He pulled her as close as he could and exhaustion welcomed him into her cold, dark embrace. His arms fell limp to his sides, and still the snow fell.
S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_
Marco paced back and forth like a caged lion at the top of the ridge. Things had begun to move quickly as the long awaited search and rescue team moved into position and began the arduous task of bringing the two LA paramedics to the surface.
It was as if in slow motion that Marco jumped to reach out a hand to help Roy haul himself to the top just seconds before the Stokes reached the crest of the ridge. Johnny was still and quiet, strapped down and blanketed from the bitter cold. It was a scenario that had played itself out so many times in the firemen's heads, as Johnny seemed to be the more accident-prone among them. Marco watched as Roy moved to lay a hand on his partners shoulder, and followed the Stokes to the waiting squad and ambulance. Reluctantly, Roy watched as search and rescue loaded Johnny into the waiting ambulance and prepared to take him down the treacherous path to Aspen. For a moment, Roy stood in silence, leaning against the ambulance door, head bowed, and large hands planted firmly against the cold metal, torn between following his partner down to the hospital or staying to rescue his captain. The chief of the Aspen team walked over, banging his mittened hands together to warm them up.
"Roy Desoto?"
Roy turned squinted eyes toward the chief and spoke, the voice rough with concealed emotions. "Yeah?"
"We will take care of your man, Roy. Hey, you should ride in too and get checked out. LA tells me that you both were recently released under caution after admission for job-related head trauma."
Roy rolled his eyes away from the concerned chief's face and grunted. Good old Doctor Brackett. "I am fine, chief. Fine. Just get –" His voice lowered to a gentle tone. "Just get Johnny in, okay?"
The chief studied the senior paramedic's face then shrugged and clapped his hand twice on the rear door of the ambulance, signaling the men inside it was safe to go.
The ambulance pulled away, beginning its slippery journey. Roy watched it leave for a moment, a pained expression on his weary face. The shouts of the rescue team's banter brought him to reality and he shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts. Waving away the men who insisted he go down the mountain with them, Roy put his hands in his pockets and strode slowly, shoulders bowed, to stand next to Marco.
"Thanks for coming, Marco." He spoke quietly, scuffing his boot through the powdery snow, not meeting his coworker's gaze.
Marco smiled, revealing his white teeth. "No problem there, Roy. Joanne and the kids are going to be happy to see you."
Roy turned confused and weary blue eyes to his coworker. "Joanne? The kids? How-do they know?"
Marco's smile faded at the alarm growing on Roy's face. "Well now, Roy, here is how it happened. When you didn't contact Joanne, well, things just sort of happened. She called me, all upset, and begged me to go look for you guys, because the weather was so bad out here. Then Susan-"
"Wait." Roy held up a hand. "Susan too?"
Marco shrugged. "Well, when Joanne headed this way, she came too. We flew out here as fast as we could get flights. And here we are. I left her and the kids and Susan at the hotel in Aspen. They don't know about the – avalanche - though. I just heard about that on my way over."
Roy gazed steadily at Marco, the turmoil evident in his sad eyes. He lowered his head and roughly brushed the snow from his pants. "Last thing I want to do is go tell Susan that Cap is gone."
Marco's breath caught in his throat and his mustache twitched. It sounded so final when Roy said it that way. He glanced down toward the dark valley where the cruel avalanche had taken their captain and most likely buried him beyond their reach.
Marco put a booted foot on the bumper of the squad car and leaned his weight on his bent knee. "Ya know something, mi amigo?"
Roy put his hands on his hips and tilted his face up toward the sky, hoping to make everyone believe that the dampness on his tanned cheeks was merely snowflakes melting upon contact. "No, what, Marco?"
"I don't know why. Call it an attempt to remain ignorant in the face of facts, but I have a good feeling about this. Gonna take more than an avalanche to keep Cap down."
A muscle flexed in Roy's jaw as he turned away from Marco. "Good feelings won't bring him back, Marco."
S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_
Andrew Baliff scanned the white expanse below his nimble helicopter, his eager eyes watching for the lightest movement. He was a thrill-seeker. An adrenaline junkie. And he loved flying in risky situations, especially when the goal was saving a life. He had flown out of Aspen upon orders, but had experienced delays in reaching the valley due to almost no visibility. Relying only on his controls, he had been able to avoid a mountain strike, and had claimed some visibility once the depths of the valley lay below him. He picked up his CB radio.
"Mary 6500 reporting to Ground. Come in. Over."
"Go ahead, Mary 6500."
"Ground, I am experiencing near complete whiteout conditions. I have dropped lower for visibility, but the ground is completely white below me. No sign of anyone. The ceiling is very low. Once I reach complete whiteout, I will report. Over."
"Roger Mary 6500. Affirmative. Once you reach complete whiteout, report and we will pull you out."
"Roger. Wilco. Mary 6500 over and out."
Andrew spent nearly two hours scanning the mountainous terrain. The bright beam of his searchlight swept the valley over and over and over. Finally, the snow was coming down in such force that he could barely see where the ground was and the sky began.
"Mary 6500 to Ground. Come in, over."
"Go ahead Mary 6500."
"We have achieved whiteout conditions, as well as low fuel. I think I can make it though. Requesting permission to continue search for thirty minutes. Over.
"Negative, Mary 6500. Abort mission. Over."
"Ground, I can make it."
"That is negative, Andrew. I want you down from there. I mean now. Over."
There was a long pause, then Andrew spoke again.
"Wilco Ground. Mary 6500 over and out."
Roy's shoulders slumped and he threw his hands in the air. Marco reached to put a hand on his shoulder, but he moved away, mumbling to himself. Marco gazed up at the sky, unable to hide the tears that came.
It was as if in a dream that they heard the rescue squad call the search. There was no way that two people could have survived that avalanche, and have been buried for almost three hours in single digit temperatures and still have survived. The squad car carried them slowly down the hillside to where two wives and children awaited the news. But only one husband would be returning today.
S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_ S51_
The fire crept closer. Pinned beneath a fallen timber, Captain Hank Stanley desperately tried to pull himself free from the restraining beam. The flames danced closer then drew away over and over, as if taunting him with their searing heat. The smoke made his eyes ache, his mind felt muddled and there was a heavy weight on his chest. The fire was coming closer, closer, closer. The burning became intense….with a start, Hank opened his eyes. For a moment, he wasn't sure if he was alive of not. His hands and feet felt as if they were on fire, and the ground beneath him was hard and flat. Slowly, his thoughts unscrambled and he realized that he was lying on a hard wooden floor. It had only been a dream. His blurry vision gradually cleared and lifting his head, he could make out a hunched figure sitting on the fireplace hearth, the small fire in the old fireplace giving the figure an eerie silhouette.
"Who – who are-" His voice felt strangely weak to his ears, and overwhelming dizziness took all of the energy in his body. His head fell back down on – his coat? Suddenly realizing that he was covered with a blanket and his heavy jacket was under his head, Hank felt a surge of energy, and he sat up on his good elbow. "Who are you?"
The silent figure at the fireplace stood up slowly and sauntered a few steps closer. Hank could make out the shaggy black hair, burning green eyes, and the red scar across his cheek. It was their hijacker.
Hank made a quick move as if to stop the young man, but the man held up a restraining hand. "Don't worry, dude. I won't be here long."
Glaring at the man, Hank finally let out some of his anger. "If you hadn't messed things up, mister, my men and I would be on a nice two week vacation in the mountains instead of surviving here in the valley in this blasted cold!"
The hijacker didn't seem phased by Hank's outburst. He shrugged and squatted next to the fire chief. "Keep your shirt on, buddy. I am moving on. You almost had frostbite out there. Keep the fire going. I'm sure there is some food in here somewhere. The cops can't find me here, cause I am not going to be here when they come. They won't know you are here, but you'll be able to recover enough to get out of here when it is daylight. Your girl is on the couch. Still unconscious. See you around alright?"
Hank was left a bit speechless at the blunt explanation. His heart suddenly felt torn, as his good guy instincts kicked in. "Hey, dude, don't go out there, okay? You won't make it in this weather."
The escaped convict turned and cast him a grim smile. "Don't worry about me. I will be fine."
Hank closed his eyes for a second as another wave of dizziness washed over him. He heard the door open onto the porch, and the boots of the convict stomping into the cold snow.
"Hey!" Hank called weakly after him. "Just stay, dude. Leave when the weather breaks."
The convict turned again to look at him, and Hank noticed for the first time a gentle smile on his face. "No thanks, buddy. Take care of yourself okay."
And the door closed, blocking out the cold, leaving only the sounds of a crackling fire in its wake.
