Paul Drake to the Rescue
"Della!"
The rushing water had Della submerged in a matter of seconds. In addition to swallowing a good amount of water before she could clamp her mouth closed, she was also slammed forward into the bulkhead, whacking her shoulder and arm again and banging her forehead in the process. Stars swam before her eyes, and the encroaching darkness of her vision terrified her. Clawing her way above the water and drawing a breath, she started spitting and gagging as she pushed herself up. It did no good. The freezing water rushing into the plane quickly pulled her down again. Hampered by her broken arm and not realizing she was still clutching the plastic bag, she desperately tried to surface.
Perry! I have to get out! I need to get to Perry! He needs me, he loves…
Meanwhile, Jimmy, who had been at the cabin door to take the bag from Della, was doing his best to reach her. He searched in the darkness, finally touching her shoulder, and grabbed her collar, pulling her to the surface. Cautiously dragging her through the water toward the cabin door, he knew he was fighting the rushing water and his own foggy mind. His ribs and lungs ached, and the moisture on his face was from exertion, not water from the lake. They were almost to safety when he felt the plane tilt further under the dark water. Even though he was only inches from freedom, he knew it was too late.
"I'm sorry Della, truly sorry."
Suddenly a strong pair of hands wrapped around his arm, giving a mighty tug, landing all three of them in a heap at the edge of the lake. The loud moan behind them signaling the final dying, descent of the plane.
Jimmy fought dizziness to move from Perry's prone form. Seeing Della still lying partially in the lake, he stood on unsteady legs and pulled her to the bank. Incredulity widened his eyes when he realized she had somehow managed to hold onto the plastic bag. He pried her stiff fingers from it and only then comprehended she wasn't breathing.
"Della!" Dropping to his knees, he pushed her gently onto her back, immediately starting CPR. "Come on, Della! Come back to us!"
After a few life-saving breaths, she began coughing up brackish water. "Yuck!"
Jimmy chuckled in profound relief. "Sorry if my kisses aren't equal to Perry's."
With his help, Della struggled to a sitting position and met his eyes. Seeing the expression in his, one of amused relief, she raised her good hand and started to pat her wet curls away from her face and back into some semblance of order.
"I was commenting on the rancid taste in my mouth, not you."
"Do you think you can stand?"
She nodded her head and with an assist from him, got to her feet. It was then that they both saw Perry still lying on the cold ground, his eyes closed.
"Perry!" She rushed to him, kneeling at his side, stroking his face with gentle fingers. "Please—"
"If you keep doing that, I'll just lay here forever."
He opened his bluer-than-blue eyes, and grinned up at her. She brushed a lock of his hair back from his forehead.
"I don't know whether to hit you or kiss you! Are you alright?"
His dimples appeared. "Kiss me. You shouldn't strike your rescuer, you know. Bad form." He struggled to a sitting position with Della's help, then pulled her in close to his massive chest. "Yes, sweetheart. Other than having you scare me to death and taking Jimmy's elbow in my ribs when I pulled you out, I'm fit as a fiddle."
The young pilot laughed. "Sorry about that. But thanks for the assist. I was terrified we were both goners."
Della stood and with Jimmy's help they got Perry back to his feet. She supported him while Jimmy scrounged around the bank to find a sturdy branch to help act as a cane.
Passing it to Perry, he instructed needlessly, "Use this."
Jimmy picked up the two plastic bags and wrapped his left arm around Perry's waist while Della did the same with her right arm. Together with Perry using the branch and the two on either side of him, they could take two or three steps, rest, and then two or three more.
He's moving on sheer willpower alone, Della admitted to herself. I know saving us from the plane must have depleted what was left in his reserve energy tank. When—if—we get to the place I found earlier, I'll need to look at his leg again; I know that tourniquet has to be loose.
After what seemed like hours but only took roughly twenty minutes, they reached the bush where Della's nylon flapped in the wind. In the darkness, it looked like an elongated bat.
Perry and Jimmy both laughed at the makeshift windsock.
"Very ingenious, Miss Street. Remind me to buy you a new pair of nylons when we get home."
Hearing Perry's optimistic statement made Della feel much better about their situation.
"I'll hold you to that, Counselor." She looked over at the bags and sighed. "Now we have to create some kind of shelter before we all freeze to death."
The three made a thankfully easy climb to the rock outcropping, helping Perry down onto the bed of pine needles. Della saw how pale his face was and that the wound on his leg was bleeding profusely.
"Jimmy, get me the first aid kit and hurry," she commanded. "Perry, whatever I tell you to do, you do it, understand? In this, I'm the boss."
"Yes, ma'am."
Jimmy dug through the bags until he found the kit, handing it to Della. Using the rubbing alcohol, she splashed a little on her hands, then used her good one to examine the wound. It didn't look too bad, but the constant bleeding had her very worried. She applied an antibacterial cream from the kit, then bandaged the wound tightly, causing Perry to groan.
"Really nurse, do you enjoy causing me pain? Or is this payback for making you fly?"
Della leaned forward and placed a kiss on his lips, then laid her hand on his cheek in a tender caress. "Neither. Just trying to make sure you live long enough to buy me that pair of nylons."
"Now that's good medicine," he teased, then gently pulled her head down for another, more passionate kiss. When he released her, the love she saw in his eyes caused Della's breath to catch in her throat.
When she was about to say something else, Jimmy's voice from outside the shelter broke the reverie.
"Hey, Della. Could you come out here for a minute?"
Giving Perry one of her dazzling smiles, she rose and went out to find Jimmy struggling with one of the blankets she had managed to snag.
"What's the plan?"
"I thought it might provide some additional protection against the elements, but I'm having trouble getting it in place. Do you think you can hold this side while I secure the other?"
"Um, Jimmy? Just how are you planning to secure it?"
In the darkness she could see his grin. "With rope, of course."
"Wait." Jimmy lowered his arms and waited. "I think we'll make better use of the blankets if they are wrapped around us. Without a way to really secure them, this is going to consume the last of your energy, and I have a feeling I'll need that more than I will a shield against the elements."
He nodded. "You're right. It was a good, albeit flawed, idea. Let's get warm."
Once back under the outcropping, Della checked on Perry and noticed he had fallen asleep. His deep, even breathing reassured her he was going to be alright, at least for the present. Then she and Jimmy set about emptying the rest of the bags, placing the blankets over the pine needles, making sure the snacks, water and liqueur were protected. Once they were satisfied things were in order, Della gently shook Perry's shoulder to rouse him.
"Perry?"
He slowly opened his eyes to see the face he loved leaning over him. Then he closed them again, giving a violent shiver.
"D-don't m-mind m-me," he said through his shivers, "I'm n-not th-the im-impor-tant one."
She looked at him in alarm. "Jimmy, we need to get him under the blankets now! He's going into hypothermia."
No response.
Looking at the young pilot, she realized he was passed out against the rock wall. The weight of the situation fell on her, all of a sudden. Before, all she had been worried about was crashing and dying in a ball of fire. But now, the real danger of the crash became all too apparent. The three of them were helpless. She was down an arm and shoulder, with a pounding headache that just wouldn't stop, Perry was one-legged and feverish, and Jimmy . . . Jimmy was battling exhaustion, exposure, and, if the way he was cradling his ribcage as he slept was any indication, broken ribs. Without quick, good thinking, they were all in danger of dying.
Okay, Della. Everything is up to you now. Hopefully you remember your Girl Scout training.
"D-Della," Perry tried to get her attention. "Y-you ha-have to tend t-to J-Jimmy. D-don't wo-worry ab-about me y-yet."
She knelt next to the young pilot, feeling his pulse. It was faint. She took one of the blankets, wrapping him as tightly as she could. What else? Grabbing one of the small bottles of bourbon, she tried to twist off the cap without much success.
"Br-bring it to-to m-me," Perry coaxed.
Once it was open, she came back to Jimmy and tried to get some of the liquid into him. For some reason, the task was tougher than it should have been. More bourbon was spilled than was swallowed. With a sigh, she checked the blanket again, then turned her attention to Perry.
"Your turn, and don't argue."
He shook his head, but his entire body followed. He was too cold, and she knew it.
"I don't think a blanket is going to help you if you're still in those wet clothes," she observed, never once thinking that she, too, was sopping wet.
The temperature was dropping rapidly, and although they needed a fire, she was aware any hope of starting one was lost as long as the wood and brush were wet. Perry watched as she folded some of the towels as best as she could. He had a feeling she was planning to use those to prop up his leg, and once again he was struck by how much he needed her, and just how intelligent and capable she was.
"D-Della, if y-you w-wanted to see m-me n-naked, all y-you ha-had to d-do was as-ask."
She rolled her eyes. "Perry?"
"Y-yes?"
"Shut up and start unbuttoning your shirt. I can't take your pants off without seriously hurting your injury, but at least you can get relief from the waist up."
"Ca-can y-you take off m-my s-socks?"
When he was as comfortable as she could get him, with a blanket wrapped around him and a rub-down complete, she took another of the liquor bottles and managed to get him to drink it. He reserved some for her, and she accepted it without protest.
With his voice steady again, he pointed out, "Sweetheart, you're going to need to strip out of your clothes—at least some of them—to get warm yourself. You'll be chilled to the bone by morning if you don't. And get your blanket. If we huddle together, we'll stay warmer."
"What about Jimmy?"
Perry looked over at his friend. "He isn't going to move."
Nodding wearily, she gritted her teeth and said, "Perry? I wouldn't ask this if I wasn't injured, but . . . I can't undress myself."
He extended his arms. "Alright, but I want one thing clear, Miss Street. I'm not being personal or fresh. This is never to be spoken about or discussed with Paul in any way."
She laughed softly. "Understood."
At last bundled up in her blanket, she allowed Perry to arrange her so as not to hurt her already injured arm. Then, with the sound of the mountains surrounding her, she closed her eyes and fell into oblivion.