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| THE HEART HAS WINGS I BY MARY CATHERINE |
CHAPTER 3 |
She was staring through a broken window at a dull brown wall of rock a few feet away. Her body was curled into a fetal position, and as she moved her head, bits of safety glass fell through her hair and onto her lap. It wasn’t a dream! She had been in a plane crash! Her body was wracked with sobs as she re-lived the horror of those few seconds before her mind and body shut down with the sheer terror of what she knew would be her final moments on earth. But her senses were working….dead people didn’t see and hear, did they? She must have survived, then. Yeah, people survived plane crashes sometimes, didn’t they? Wait….there was more….something she just couldn’t quite remember. Suddenly it came to her. Todd!!! Todd had been in the plane too. Todd had made it crash! Mustering up some strength, she slowly unfolded her limbs, and painfully tried to turn over. Her next breath froze in her throat.
Todd lay draped across the dashboard, his head turned facing her. Blood slowly oozed down the side of his face from a gash in his forehead, and a little trickle escaped from the side of his mouth. His eyes were closed and he looked peaceful. As peaceful as the…. “No!” screamed Téa, her voice rasping out in terror. “No, you can’t be dead, Todd!” She lunged toward his lifeless body. A dull metallic creaking sound filled the air, a moment before Téa felt a sense of weightlessness. The wreckage of the plane was shifting, the nose dipping lower. A blood-curdling scream ripped from her lungs as she realized they were teetering on the edge of a precipice. Eyes wide open in terror, she flung herself back against her seat, holding her breath as the plane slowly settled back into its original position. Now the true horror of her situation dawned on her. The remnants of the plane were like a giant seesaw—any sudden shift in the balance would send it plunging over the cliff, signaling the end of any small shred of hope that still remained. She bit her lip in terror, wincing at the pain the small gesture caused.
Surprisingly, her own peril didn’t matter to her at that moment. The only thought that filled her mind was that Todd could be dead. Her foggy brain just couldn’t deal with the possibility. “I love you Delgado!” Had he really said that, or was it just something her over-wrought mind had made up in the terror of the moment? He just couldn’t be dead, she thought. God couldn’t be that cruel. Taking a deep breath, she slowly reached out a trembling hand toward him, preparing to snatch it back at the first sign that the wreckage was becoming unbalanced again. She made contact with his face, but there was no movement. She held her breath as her hand slid to his neck, feeling for a pulse. Nothing. She whimpered, closing her eyes in agony.
Wait! What was that? It felt like the tiniest fluttering just below his skin. Willing her breathing to return to normal, she pressed harder. Yes! There it was—his heart beating steady and true. Téa covered her eyes with her hands and gave way to relieved sobbing for a moment. Gradually, her situation clarified in her mind. Todd was still alive, but he obviously had a head injury. It appeared that his shoulder harness had come loose during the bumpy landing, allowing his head to strike the instrument panel when the plane had come to an abrupt halt. She didn’t even think about how she was going to care for him out in the middle of nowhere. Instinct told her that her first move was to get them both safely out of the wreckage. The problem was, she had no idea how to do it. If she got out first, the plane would over-balance and go over the precipice. And Todd’s door was hanging over empty space. He had to get out her door, but she didn’t think she could manage to drag him that far.
A low groan from her companion interrupted her reverie. “Todd?” she said hopefully, reaching toward him with only her hand as she kept her body pressed into her seat. She stroked his hair, crooning to him softly. “Wake up! We’ve got to get out of here!” she said, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. After another deep-seated groan, his eyes fluttered open. He stared at her, obviously trying to make sense of the situation. She recognized the confusion all too well. His eyes mirrored her own fuzziness of a few minutes before. “We were in a plane crash, Todd,” she said softly, and saw recognition dawn in his eyes. She saw him tense, and pushed down on his head gently. “Don’t move,” she warned. “We’re over a cliff. Any sudden movement can send us over.” Todd grimaced as he nodded acknowledgment. Then taking a deep breath, he slowly began to raise his head.
Téa gripped the side of her seat tightly as she awaited the effect of his shifting position on the precarious balance of the plane. She relaxed a little as he made it upright and rested his head on the seat behind him without any obvious ill effects. She watched as he breathed shallowly, his eyes closed in a grimace. “Make her stop, Delgado,” he croaked. “Please, make her stop.”
“What? Make who stop, Todd? What are you talking about?” asked Téa, suddenly fearful that his head injury had made him delusional.
“Starr. She’s hitting my head with a hammer. Make her stop.”
In spite of their horrible predicament, Téa couldn’t help but chuckle. She remembered the old saying, “A guilty conscience needs no accuser.” Apparently, his abandoned daughter was seeking revenge in his dreams. Unfortunately, Téa didn’t have the time to engage in psychoanalysis now. “Todd! Starr isn’t here,” she shouted, hoping to penetrate the obvious fog in his brain. “You hit your head in the crash!”
Several minutes passed in silence. The wind whipped gently at the tail rudder, causing it to bang dully. Little wisps of sand drifted in the open doors and broken windows, stinging slightly as they contacted exposed skin. Téa was just wondering if her companion had lost consciousness again when she heard his voice. “Get out now, Téa. Get out while you can. Save yourself and let me go over.”
She didn’t hesitate. “No!” she shouted. “Next plan.” He chuckled, wincing with the pain.
“I should have known you’d never follow orders,” he said lightly. “Even when I’m trying to save your friggin’ life.” He sat up gingerly, waiting to see what effect his movement had on their position, then turned to her. “OK, this is what we’re going to do,” he said quietly, his eyes bright. Téa didn’t like this plan, either, but she couldn’t think of anything else to do.
A few minutes later they were ready to try. The hand-held GPS, the aeronautical chart, a couple of flashlights and an extra sleeve of AA batteries had all been carefully lowered out Téa’s door and now rested on the rock—salvaged items that they would need to survive if they made it out of the wreckage. They had both undone their seatbelts, and Téa had wrenched her door open as far as she could manage with the broken wing strut sticking through the window. “Ready?” asked Todd, wiping at his face and eyeing the back seat behind Téa. She nodded, swallowing down the lump in her throat. “Now remember,” he cautioned. “If I’m wrong, and this thing starts to go over, you jump for it. At least one of us will make it.” Again, she wanted to argue, but could think of no other plan. It looked like they had just one chance. She pursed her lips grimly and bowed her head in assent. She pushed herself back in her seat, placing her weight as far from the center of gravity as she could. Taking a deep breath, Todd slowly moved toward her, pausing every second or two to allow the ruins to settle after each movement. Finally, he was almost in her lap. She could smell the sweat on him, see the green flecks in his hazel eyes. Then, with a final grimace, he launched himself over her and into the back seat, throwing himself into the highest corner of the cockpit and rolling into a ball. They both gasped as the plane nosed over, teetered for a moment, then slowly settled back into place. The sound of their ragged breathing filled the small space.
After a few moments, Todd spoke. “OK, so far, so good. Your turn.” Téa looked at him fearfully.
“I don’t want to do it, Todd. What if my weight is holding the plane in place? You’ll die!”
“What choice do we have, Téa? We can’t sit here forever. Trust me, the Mounties aren’t riding to the rescue down here. Our only chance is to save ourselves. Hang on tight, but if it’s pulling you over, let go.” Téa looked at him with tears standing in her eyes. It might be the last time she saw him alive. A long moment passed as they stared into each other’s eyes. “Go on, now,” he coaxed. “I’ll be fine. You know I don’t die easily.” Biting her lip, Téa turned her attention to the door. Slowly, she put her right foot out, holding tightly to the doorframe with both hands. The wreckage remained in place, so she leaned out a little further. Bit by bit, she inched her way out the door, finally reaching down gingerly until one foot came in contact with the ground. Bracing her hands, she swung her other leg over the side. She held her breath as the plane reacted to the lack of her weight. Her fingers tensed as she prepared to jump back in at a moment’s notice. But Todd’s weight in the back seat appeared to be enough to hold it now. It groaned a little, but showed no signs of plunging over the cliff. Breathing a little easier, she pulled back on the doorframe, counter-balancing the wreckage.
“OK, Todd. Come on out,” she ordered. “If you move slowly, I think you’ll make it.” But Todd wasn’t listening. Now that he knew Téa was safe, he turned his attention to the next phase of their ordeal. The plane held many items that could increase their chances of survival in the desert. Ignoring Téa’s pleas, he carefully checked the pouches behind the front seats, extracting a half-eaten bag of Sabritas, the Mexican brand of potato chips, and a can of aerosol cheese product. He grimaced. They had been there for months. Well, desperate times call for desperate measures. Slowly, he reached forward and dropped them out the door to join the growing pile of ‘survival gear’. He added a couple of moldy-looking seed caps apparently left over from the previous owners. Sun protection would be a must. He slipped a few books of matches into his pocket. Getting carefully to his knees, he was able to reach the cargo area behind the seat. He found a few more items of food: a box of crackers, a roll of packaged cookies and a few handfuls of trail mix. An old first aid kit seemed like a useful addition. He placed the items in a cheap, brightly colored woven backpack he had bought at a street market and tossed them outside. “Todd, please!” shouted Téa. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold it!” A lightweight, none-too-clean sleeping bag was added to the pile, along with a grungy serape and sweatshirt.
Téa had degenerated into exasperated anger. “Get out of the freakin’ airplane, Todd!” she shouted. Todd’s eyes desperately searched the dim interior, looking for the one item he knew was aboard, but that he couldn’t seem to locate. It was the most important survival necessity of all. His heart sank. Flying over the deserts in Baja, he always kept plenty of water available, knowing that surviving a forced landing would depend on it. But the impact of the crash and the off-balance position of the aircraft had caused all six 2-liter bottles to roll into the low end of the cargo hold. There was no way to reach them without over-balancing the wreckage. Unless….
“Delgado! Listen to me!” he shouted out the open door. “Let go of the plane for a minute and see what happens.”
“Are you crazy?” she asked, sweating profusely.
“Look, just try it for a sec. If it starts moving, grab on again.” Glaring at him through the open door, she slowly relaxed her hands. Nothing happened. “Good. Now go to the back of the airplane and sit on the tail.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. “Just do it. It should provide enough counter-weight for me to move some more.”
“Todd, I don’t know what you’re doing, but please get out of there now! This thing is going to go any second!”
“No. We won’t last 10 minutes without water, and I’m not giving up ‘til I get it. Do it, Téa!” Slowly, every muscle tensed to leap onto the wreckage, she obeyed. He felt the carcass shift with the extra weight on the tail. Yeah, this was going to work. Slowly, he hung onto the doorframe with both hands and stretched his long body across the width of the cargo area. Holding his breath, he gingerly probed around with his boots, feeling the smooth surface of a bottle under his sole. He carefully moved his feet so the long, heavy plastic bottle was clasped between them, then slowly drew his knees to his chest. Releasing one hand, he grasped the bottle and quickly tossed it through the door. Taking a moment to get his breath, he repeated the process, taking a little longer to retrieve the second bottle.
“Todd?” he heard Téa ask, obvious tears in her voice. “I’m so scared. Please hurry up.” Gritting his teeth, he went for the third bottle. When that one joined the others on the ground outside, it meant that three more were left. They were in the lowest corner, and it would be much harder to retrieve them. But their survival depended on them, so he resolved to salvage them, or die trying. Carefully, he stretched out even farther, holding his breath as the wreckage groaned and shifted. It held in place, and he managed to pull another bottle out using his feet as pincers. Two more to go. The fifth one seemed to take forever, and Todd felt his spirits dropping as precious time ran out, with no further reward to show for it. But finally, the bottle was in his hand and he tossed it out to join its companions in the sand. Todd lay on his back, breathing raggedly, and weighing whether the risk of going for the last bottle was worth it. That one bottle could be the difference between life and death, he thought.
To reach the remaining bottle, he had to let go of the doorframe and scoot himself about a foot lower. He hoped Téa’s weight on the tail would be enough to keep the wreckage in place. He couldn’t quite get a grip on the bottle, so he slid himself a fraction of an inch lower. A deep, grinding protest from the wreckage told him he’d gone too far. A gut-wrenching scream from Téa indicated that the plane had pulled free of its perch. He knew she would have to jump soon, and made a split second decision. Curling into a sitting position, he rapidly lunged for the bottle. Yanking it free, he pitched it through the door. Glancing through the windshield, he saw the nose sinking fast, bringing the deep ravine into full view. Clawing at the loose carpeting in the cargo hold, he launched himself toward the open door, which was now moving into a straight up position as the plane nosed over. Using the last bit of his strength, he clutched either side of the door and pulled his body up after him. From the corner of his eye, he saw Téa rolling across the ground as she threw herself clear of the sinking wreckage. The noise of the protesting metal as it grated against the crumbling rock and sand was deafening. Without hesitation, Todd thrust himself out of the door. He struck the ground hard, jarring his already injured head. He lay face down in the sand, vaguely aware of the horrid sound of the wreckage banging its way down the cliff, the twisting metal grinding sickeningly as the plane came to its final resting-place.
For a long time, he lay quietly in the sand, wondering if his heart rate would ever return to normal. “Todd?” He heard sniffling at his left ear. “Are you all right?” Slowly he sat up, brushing the grit from his eyes and hawking up saliva to clear his mouth.
“Yeah,” he said, finally realizing it was true. “You?” Téa sat back on her haunches, wiping away tears and leaving dirty streaks across her face.
“I thought you were going to die,” she said miserably. Todd eyed his little pile of salvaged treasures, noting with satisfaction that all six bottles of water had survived intact. Now they had a chance. He looked sharply at Téa. But for what? Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet and walked quietly to the edge of the ravine. 64M lay at the bottom, a mangled wreck with a slowly settling cloud of dust floating around it. Feeling his legs buckle, Todd abruptly sat down. Slowly, he became aware of Téa sitting down beside him.
“I loved that plane,” he said dejectedly, rubbing at his nose with his hand. Téa seemed mesmerized by the sight of the carnage. She cleared her throat.
“Don’t take this wrong, Todd, but…but there were a lot of nicer planes at the Serenidad. I never would have thought you’d own something so…so….”
“What? Old? Beat-up? Look, Téa, I know it didn’t seem like much, but it had a good, well-maintained engine, and that’s all that matters.”
“But you could afford the best, Todd.”
“I just wanted to get out of the States, and this one was available—for cash, no questions asked. Besides, it didn’t look like the kind of plane a millionaire would own, and that’s the way I wanted it.” He looked sadly into the ravine. “I bought it for convenience, but after a while, it seemed like a part of me, you know?”
Téa nodded knowingly, remaining silent. She knew that this was a ridiculous topic for their first conversation, given all that they had been through and the ordeal that lay ahead of them. But somehow, the small talk helped calm her down. It made her feel like surviving a near fatal plane crash—twice—was an everyday occurrence. She reached up a hand to brush away some of his hair, but he flinched away, turning accusing eyes on her.
“I would have checked the fuel if you hadn’t been so hot to throw my ass in jail,” he growled.
“I just wanted to talk to you, Todd,” she said in exasperation. “Let me look at your head.”
“Oh yeah. You just wanted to talk to me while your brother and the Federales trussed me up in chains or shot me full of lead.”
“Todd….”
“Save it, Delgado. You failed. I’m not going to jail. I don’t care what happens to me, but I’m not taking the blame for anything happening to you. I’ll see that you’re safe and that’s it. You and your brother will just have to live with the thought that big, bad Todd Manning is out there running around free. Now we have to think about what we’re going to do next.” He climbed to his feet and went to look over the pile of salvaged items.
Téa remained staring into the distance. The Pacific Ocean was clearly visible in the strong, morning light. It didn’t look too far away. But the desert that stretched out between them and the ocean seemed endless and forbidding.
“And just remember, Delgado,” Todd continued, shouting at her over his shoulder. “You owe me a plane.”
Téa sighed deeply, getting to her feet and brushing herself off. She didn’t know which would be harder to survive: crossing the desert, or the prickly presence of her enigmatic husband.
