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On the Precipice: Part II |
| Written by Daniel Greene | |
| Tuesday, 19 February 2008 | |
"Bear Lake Tower, Bell foxtrot-alpha-niner requesting emergency takeoff clearance," Ryan said as he pulled the helicopter cabin door shut. "Confirm completion of preflight checklist," the Air Traffic Controller (ATC) said. "Uh." He poked around in the cabin for the checklist book. He found it between the seats and picked it up. He glanced at the cover then threw it on the seat next to him. "Yeah, complete." "Clearance granted," the ATC said. Ryan was getting tired and wanted to get home. A few moments later the rotors were up to speed and the Bell Jetranger lifted into the black sky. He changed the communication radio frequency to 124.6, and then he spoke. "Bear Lake to County, please respond." "Bauer, hey," the county controller said. "Hey, Adrien. What we got?" "Heading 285. Report of a crash in the forest. 10 miles north-west of you." "Alright, enroute." The helicopter continued skyward as it turned to face the north-west. ______________________________________
"Just kill me, just kill me, just kill me," the man thought to himself. "Do you want me to kill you?" the silhouetted man who was standing over him said menacingly. The man continued putting pressure on his shot leg, he didn't speak a word. The silhouetted man leaned over and grabbed him by the coat and lifted him up. "I asked you a question!" The jolt of being lifted up, the disorientation, and the fear he had of this man caused him to vomit. The silhouetted man dropped him down into his own vomit. "I want it back, and you are going to hand it to me." Silence. The silence was broken by a faint whirring sound. All the armed men looked around for the source of the sound, but nothing could be seen in the dense, dark forest. The sound grew louder. "We got a chopper!" one of the men yelled. "Cops," the silhouetted man said to himself. "We cannot afford for them to get away. Take it down. You hear me? Take it down!" he yelled at them. The men took off towards the sound with their weapons in hand. The silhouetted man focused his attention back on the bleeding man. "Those cops can't help you. You give it to me and I'll let you live." "I am dead no matter what," he said. If the man didn't just shoot him, he would bleed to death in minutes. He'd much rather be shot. There was no hope of survival now. ______________________________________
He had flown for about 5 minutes when he spotted the flames and smoke. He flew in closer and decreased his altitude to get a better view of the scene. A small plane lay in pieces on the ground, the metal twisted and the craft burning. He couldn't see any survivors immediately, but he had to get down there and search. "Bear Lake to County, what's the ETA on the other inbound rescue teams?" "Five minutes on the medi-vac chopper. Seven minutes on the smoke-jumpers," Adrien said over the communication radio. A smoke-jumper is another name for a forest fireman. They have a dirty and dangerous job. They needed to get here quick to keep this fire from affecting rescue efforts and possibly spreading towards a nearby town. Ryan shook his head unhappily. "Tell them to step it up, Adrien. Step it up. We got people down there hurt and a fire spreading. I'm finding a clearing now to land and starting initial search. Bauer, out." He began to search for a clearing when something caught his eye. He saw movement on the ground. He decreased his altitude more and got closer. "Adrien, Adrien! I've got a visual on one survivor," he shouted happily into the radio. Then he saw another, and another. They seemed to be gathering in one spot. "I now have a visual on five survivors." "Alright, great, Ryan. Good job. I have informed medi-vac and the smoke-jumpers of the survivors. Get down there and get them somewhere safe." "Copy." Ryan smiled. Fwip! BAM! His smile vanished. Then again. Fwip! BAM! Someone was shooting at the helicopter. BAM! BAM! BAM! Bullets ripped through the metal. "What the..." He looked down as the five men held automatic weapons aimed towards the sky. The shots rang in his head as they riddled though the chopper and then hit the gas tank. BOOM! The craft began spinning aimlessly. He felt the craft hit the tree canopy, ripping the tail off the chopper. A second before the chopper smashed into the ground he could see on of the shooters standing right below the craft, caught. He had not gotten out of the way. Ryan shut his eyes, knowing he was going to die, but take down one of them with him. The helicopter smashed into the earth. ______________________________________
The silhouetted man had heard the gunfire, the explosion and the crash a few seconds later. He smiled evilly. "Cops ‘r dead, and I'm out of time kid." He waited for a response. Angry, he kicked the dying man in the gut and then knelt down beside him. The man winced in pain. "I guess we'll be doing it the hard way." He searched through his clothing and found what he was looking for in the mans blood-stained coat pocket. He pulled from it a small vial, and then smiled again. "That didn't look so...so..." The man vomited again, then regained his waning composure and finished his sentence. "So...hard to me." "Nothing is hard for me. You should of handed it to me, kid, now I am gonna make it hard for you." The silhouetted man turned around and walked away, leaving him alone in the dark woods. "NO!' he screamed horridly. "Don't let me die this way!" He watched as the man walked off. The other armed man caught up with him and they disappeared into the black forest. "JUST KILL ME!" he roared. His screams echoed through the trees. "Oh, please no. No!" he cried. Tears streamed down his face. He had regained a moment of hope when he heard the helicopter, but that had vanished when he heard the crash. His rescue was dead. His hope was dead. He was going to hear himself die, see himself die, feel himself die. He was shivering, crying, dying. Alone. ______________________________________ The helicopter lay in pieces. The cabin was smashed and lying on its left side. The tail had broken off when it hit the canopy and was caught in the trees overhead. Bullet holes covered the metal of the craft and the explosion of the gas tank was burning the craft and the trees around it. Inside the cockpit, Ryan's body hung from the seatbelt, his arms dangling towards the ground. His chest moved out then in.
Inhale. Exhale.
TO BE CONTINUED Copyright 2008 Daniel Greene |
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| Last Updated ( Tuesday, 19 February 2008 ) |
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