Homeward Bound

"For those of you kind enough to write, I thank you and assure you, when I am able to find the time to write, further chapters will follow."

Temuchen *

Chapter Three (No sex in this chapter!)

"Sometimes I wonder

If our lack of ability to forgive

Is truly more rooted in our

Bruised ego and hurt feelings

Perhaps the pain we feel is comforting"

.....Chuck Smoot

I cracked open my eyes and, for a moment, forgot where I was. Covered inside my silver e-blanket I noted the morning light filtering through the bottom of the sheet. Pulling the blanket away, I yelled with surprise when I found myself tied to a tree close to forty or fifty feet up. "Son of a bitch," I cursed. How...? Then it came crashing back on me. The plane went down! In the morning light, through the pouring rain, I gazed down and was able to catch a glimpse of what used to be my beloved Comanche twin. Now, all I could see was a twisted wreck of a white and blue aluminum airframe. The plane had slid from its high perch onto its nose, resting at an angle against a row of Douglass firs.

I looked up into the dark sky, my eyes squinting against the rain. In the distance, brief flashes of lightening streaked through the heavy clouds, a clap of thunder following close behind. Well, I'd better get down from here, I thought.

An hour later, I stood next to my old Comanche staring at the wreckage. What happened, I thought, to cause the engines to seize? I remembered doing the pre-flight walk-around but found nothing to indicate any problems. I had checked the engines, looking for any possible leakage or loose fittings yet everything checked out. I remembered running up the engines while on the tarmac, both of them displaying proper high rpms. Well, nothing I could do about it now; the NTSB will be conducting their investigation so I would just wait until their findings. For now, I had to find his way out of these mountains and...shelter.

Wheezing, I had hiked several miles before coming to a small cave partially hidden among several large boulders. I knew there may be critters hiding inside so I was cautious when entering. Enough light filtered in allowing me to see most of the small interior finding it empty. Sighing with relief, I threw my bag down and removed my leather Jacket and sweater. Reaching into the bag, I removed another wool sweater and donned the dry garment. Ahhh yes...that's better I thought, the pants will have to wait though. Searching through the cave, I found enough old wood and debris to start a small fire. Removing my old beat up stainless steel Zippo cigarette lighter, I moved close to the entrance and was successful in starting the fire. Watching the course of the smoke, I was satisfied as I watched most of it drift outward through a natural upward notch in the cave's ceiling.

Removing my soaked jeans, I set them on some rocks near the blaze to dry off. Settling near the flames, I kept warm and listened to the rain pounding outside. Searching through my bag, I decided to inventory what I had. Jo would laugh right now, saying how much of an Eagle Scout I was. I always packed to be prepared. I found two pair of dry socks, a t-shirt, a brushed cotton long sleeve shirt, several energy bars, a small travel size first-aid kit and a quart size plastic water bottle. In a special hideout pocket, I removed my bowie knife and a Colt .45 pistol. I never flew anywhere without the handgun. The gun has been in the family now for two generations. It served my father during the Vietnam War and, when Dad gave me the Cessna...well, the gun went with the plane. Surprised by the gift, I always believed David should have gotten the Colt but Dad thought otherwise and never gave his reasons.

Searching further, I found the two extra full clips for the 45. Good, I thought, I may need these. I placed the clips next to the gun and knife. Finally, I removed an old brown leather case containing three of my favorite cigars, Carlos Toranos 1916 Cameroons. Thank the gods they were still dry! Shivering, I wrapped the e-blanket around my quivering frame and hunkered down by the fire listening to the down pour. My stomach growled and I was hungry but knew I had to wait until morning before eating one of the power bars. For the time being, it would be necessary to conserve. The warmth of the fire began to drive away the shuddering cold and relaxing against the wall of the cave; I watched the flames dance across the interior of the cave.

My thoughts began to wander and JoAnne's image materialized. I could see her smiling, laughing with the girls as they sat together at the dinette table working on some kind of school project. I couldn't help but grin thinking how they all looked so happy, Jo laughing and the girls giggling. Then my eyes closed and choked back a groan as the next image was of my dear brother embracing Jo, both of them naked in his living room. I remembered Jo leaving and David on the ground, his nose bleeding, his hands clutching his crotch. I suddenly howled and slammed my fist into the wall. The pain radiated upward through my right arm causing me to gasp and I examined my hand finding the knuckles bloody from lacerated skin.

"Shit, that was fucking stupid you moron," I griped and slumped back down. Grabbing my bag, I retrieved the small first aid kit and cleaned the wounds, thankful that I didn't break my hand. "Why? Why would she go to him?" I cried out. "What did I do to drive her away and into his slimy arms?"

My side ached something fierce and I tightened the torn t-shirt I had wrapped around my torso. That's a little better, I thought. My eyes locked onto the fire and the undulating flames gradually lulled me into needed sleep.

***************

JoAnne was still seated at the kitchen table staring out the window watching the pelting rain and storm clouds when the front door opened and a young soft voice cried out with concern, "Mom...mom where are you?"

JoAnne turned and saw her youngest, Samantha, running into the kitchen and over to her wrapping her strong young athletic arms around her. Another pair of arms embraced her and she looked up into the misty emerald green eyes of Jodie. "Mother, don't worry...Dad will be okay, I just know it." JoAnne smiled at both her girls and gently stroked their cheeks.

"I know...I know. Your father is famous for his resilience. But, "he's up there all alone lost in that forest and in this horrible storm." She turned away, tears trickling over her cheeks. With the back of her hand, she wiped away the tears and turned hugging her two daughters. She looked at Jodie and marveled at how she was so much like her father. Both shared a love for flying and Jodie, gifted in technology and computers, was already designing advanced software. Sometimes, she excelled John in her understanding and troubleshooting the most complex problems. John, never envious, was extremely proud of her prowess and accomplishments.

Samantha was more like her mother, very feminine and athletic. As an accomplished gymnast, she excelled in the uneven parallel bars. Her father never once missed any of Samantha's meets. The day John had disappeared; she had come home excited with great news. She was selected to compete in the 2008 Pacific Rim Gymnastics Championships. When she learned of her father's plane going down, Samantha immediately forgot anything about gymnastics and spent all her time with her mother. Now, the three of them stood in the kitchen holding each other hoping their father and husband would soon be found...alive.

After the girls had finished their dinner, they drove over to see their grandparents and see if their grandmother needed any help. JoAnne remained home and sat on the couch staring at the un-breaking storm just outside the plate glass. She heard the news earlier saying the storm was quickly reaching typhoon classification. She knew she should start taping off the windows and securing the house but, at the moment, she didn't care. An annoying sound slowly filtered into her thoughts. The phone. Was there news? She quickly grabbed the phone and said, "yes?"

"Jo...JoAnne?"

She recoiled at the sound of her brother-in-law's voice. What right did he have to call her now! She angrily thought. "Why are you calling David, I have nothing to say to you!"

"JoAnne, I am so sorry for everything. I heard about John after we had pulled into Subic Bay, in the Philippines for repair. I was able to ship out on emergency leave. I'm back here in Seattle. Is there anything I can do for you or the girls?"

"Yes, stay the fuck away from me and my daughters. You have done enough. I...I know you're not the only one to blame; but, you knew what you were doing from the start. Why you were able to so easily seduce me...I'm still seeing a counselor over that. But, I can tell you now, I have no feelings toward you in the slightest. John disowned you and so have I. Just leave me alone."

With that, JoAnne slammed the phone down. "My god, not now...not with John still out there!" she wailed.

*************

"David, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at sea?" Frank stared at his son standing in the foyer drenched from the storm.

"We were in port and I received a message about John. Is it true, they called off the search?"

"For now, while the storm is at its peak. Jake had to call off the search...too dangerous."

"Dad, where was John's last reported contact?" David looked into his father's eyes and could see the anguish within them. How I wish he felt that way about me, David thought.

David followed his father into the kitchen where he saw a topographic map of Mt. Rainier and its surrounding geography.

"We believe he went down somewhere here." Frank pointed to a general area halfway between Mt. Rainier and Interstate 90. We know he flew by Snoqualmie Pass but we don't know how far. For some reason, his ELT isn't sending.

David stared at the map studying the terrain. "Where was John going, the Narrows?"

"Yeah, he was on his way home just before the storm hit. Now we hear the storm may be upgraded to typhoon class."

David didn't say anything further. He gazed into his father's eyes once more and then turned and left. Frank called out but his son ignored him as he left the house. Frank stared at the closing door and grinned. He knew where his oldest was going.

*************

A dull gray light lit the entrance to the cave, the driving rain thundered creating a virtual waterfall over the opening. I opened my eyes and discovered the fire had gone out. At least my pants are dry, I thought. Throwing off the emergency blanket, I stood and grabbed my jeans slinging them on. Pulling on a dry pair of socks and then my boots, I felt much better. I may be hungry but at least I am dry...somewhat. Even the pain in my side eased somewhat. My right hand ached and was stiff. I looked at the swollen knuckles. That'll teach me to hold my temper, I thought. I rolled my fingers several times trying to work out the stiffness. Stumbling to the entrance, I could see the storm had worsened.

"Damn it," I whispered, "this ain't good." The rain was falling hard but thankfully away from the cave. Watching the fury of the down pour, I could see it was close to gale force winds if not stronger. The problem being...the cave was near the bottom of a gully, a narrow gully beginning to fill with water. I estimated maybe somewhere around midnight before the water level reached the cave opening. Too bad it wasn't cold enough to snow. I stared off into the distance and barely made out the shape of the base of Mt. Rainier through the driving rainstorm, its peak hidden among dark clouds. I knew I would have to leave the comfort of the shelter before the flood waters prevented me from escaping the gully.

Returning to the cold fire pit, I donned my leather jacket and stuffed most of my things into the bag. I jammed the pistol into its holster hooking it inside my jeans, the knife strapped onto my belt. I slipped the two clips into my inside jacket pocket and, with my bag, moved to the front of the cave. It became a waiting game. I watched for any possible lull in the rain hoping it would let up enough to safely move out. About two hours later, the rain did slow; however, the wind lost none of its strength. Now or never, I thought and pushed out. I slipped to the side of the cascading waterfall over the entrance and moved west along the side of the mountain, against the wind. Looking down into the gully, I knew I was right in leaving. The water level was quickly rising, faster than I first estimated. I looked up into the wind, searching for any sign of aircraft but knew better. Nothing would be up in these conditions. I had to somehow move further west and then down off this mountain.

After what I believed near half a day, more likely less than an hour, I passed the gully and stared at a long barren stretch of earth. Resembling a giant scar slashed from Godzilla's tail, the old Japanese Godzilla...not the modern American one, the ground was shredded of any growth from the mountain side. The scored earth was directly in my path. I would have to climb near seventy to a hundred feet to pass it over it. If I tried to cross it, I would be mired in muck, The falling rain had transformed the earth into rivulets of flowing mud. I decided to climb around the desolate stretch and painfully grappled my way upward. Twenty minutes later, gasping for breath, I found myself fifty feet left to climb. I can do this, I thought, feeling my strength beginning to wane. Thank god, I had eaten one of the power bars and had two more left. By now the rain began to build in force, slashing at my face from the wind. I had to keep my head down just to breath.

Finally, I was able to scramble over the tip of the of the scar and begin my descent. I estimated it was probably near one in the afternoon and, by now, drenched and chilled to the bone. Thank god for my leather flight jacket, though it was soaked it still kept me warm. By late afternoon, I was nearing the base of the mountain and conscience that I needed to find shelter. Grimacing, I remembered the cave. Shit, the water level's probably near the mouth by now, I thought.

Moving west, I finally made it to the bottom. I huddled beneath three large firs avoiding much of the driving wind and rain and pulled out another energy bar. God, I was famished! The power bar lasted only seconds before I slurped down some of the bottled water.

"Crack!" A tremendous flash bolted from the sky striking a nearby tree not more than fifty feet away followed by a tremendous clap of thunder. Shit, I thought, definitely not good...not good at all. I had to keep moving. The forest was growing dark as daylight dissolved into turbulent evening. I was in trouble. Soon it will be dark, and I'm out here, in the open, with no viable shelter. I pushed myself up and trudged on. Soon, bathed in darkness I found myself stumbling in this storm ridden wilderness. My flashlight out, I was barely able to see no more than six to ten feet ahead through this deluge.

I came to a slight rise and barely fit to climb to the top. Once I made the rise, I tried to survey my surroundings but couldn't see a thing. I turned away from the wind and doing so, my foot slid in the muck. Trying to right myself, the side of the hill gave way and me along with it. I pitched sideways and began rolling down the hill slamming hard against an immovable object. I groaned and pressed my hand against my left side, pushing on the stabbing pain. Breathing hard, I managed to push myself into a sitting position, my back against the object. I had lost the flashlight and my bag but I could see a small light about twenty yards away. I made to stand, placing my hands against whatever stopped my momentum and felt timber, logs stacked on top of another. Moving my hands across the chunk of wood, I realized I had rolled against a wall of timber, a structure of sorts...maybe a log cabin. I moved toward the light and grabbed the flashlight. Returning, I could see it was a small cabin and very old. I walked around the structure and found the entrance, the front door missing. Flashing the light inward, I saw the interior strewn with debris and broken shards of what were probably once furniture. The rain was coming in through several large openings in the roof; however, only on the southern side of the cabin. The north part was dry with an old cast iron pot belly stove. I whispered, "Thank you god," and returned to where I first fell. I needed my bag. I found it about twenty feet up the small hill. Fifteen minutes later, I had a small fire going in the iron stove, fueled from the broken furniture.

The glow of the stove partially lit the cabin and I was able to inspect the old shack. I found some antique saws and axes and concluded the cabin probably was once an old line shack for lumberjacks. In the corner, on the wet side, I found an old bed with a discolored mattress stuffed with straw. Dragging the bed by the stove, I collapsed onto the crumbling mattress still wearing my drenched clothing. I sighed with relief at again finding shelter. I figured the time must be around nine maybe ten o'clock. Sitting up, I spied a shelf near the front door. On the shelf was a brass candle holder complete with candle. I also noted animal tracks in the thick dirt on the floor. I found the door braced against a support column and dragged it to the entrance where I shored it up with long fragments of broken furniture. "Well, at least that should keep the larger critters out," I muttered.

I returned to the old bed and removed my jacket, boots and jeans. I hung them over the bed post near the stove and wrapped myself in the E-blanket. Laying down, I soon dozed off.

****************

"This is a close as we're going Davey! Too much turbulence near the mountains. Get ready and we'll winch you down, okay? How the hell you talked Jimmy into this, I'll never know. You must have something pretty good on him."

Lt. Blairfield, the Navy co-pilot stared at David who was standing near the side opening of the Navy Blackhawk. David geared up for extensive foul weather complete with a survival pack and sat phone, turned and said, "Alright, let's do it then."

The chopper buffeted from the brutal winds, but Captain Jimmy Lee, the pilot and a close friend of David, held control on the bird. Jimmy turned and stared at David, "Good luck Bud, hope you find your brother!"

David waved and hooked up to the cable. Once the Chief crewman checked his harness, he gave David the thumbs up. "Good to go!"

David pushed out, the harsh winds and rain instantly throwing him against the side of the helicopter. The winch began to lower him down into a small clearing among the tall trees. Minutes later, he released the harness and fell the last six feet into a soft patch of grass and mud. Looking up at the chopper, he gave the thumbs up and the Blackhawk turned and vanished into the storm.

Howling wind pelted his frame with sheets of rain and David had to turn and hunker down to get his bearings. He remembered from his father's map, there was an old line shack two miles from here. Placed on the map for use by the US Forestry Service, the shack was rarely used as such. If he could just make the shack, he could use that as his base to look for his brother. I wonder what John will do if I find him, he thought. Well, I'll just have to wait and find out. Using the compass to take his bearings, David moved off into a northwesterly direction, hoping to find that old shack.

Daylight had all but vanished as David slogged and fought his way through the pounding elements. Using the powerful emergency lantern strapped around his shoulders, he continued making his way to the shack.

"Crack! whoosh...carumph!" David jumped aside as a huge cedar snapped and fell to the ground not more than ten feet away. "Johnny," he yelled, "you'd fucking better forgive me after this!" The journey was taking longer that he first estimated. What should have been a couple of hours was stretching into the majority of the night. Again, checking his bearings, he found he was still on course but had no idea how much further to the line shack.