Driven_589066

When she tipped the light upward, she realized that the canopy above was much too thick to allow the beam to penetrate, so she continued to run forward,

half-remembering another large clearing they’d passed through earlier that night. Or this morning.

Or whenever it was.

Finally, the overhead canopy broke and she strode out into the large, roughly circular clearing, and swung her flashlight upwards in large, beckoning arcs.

“Hey!!” she shouted, knowing they couldn’t hear her, but some part of her needing to try. “Hey! We’re here!! Hey!!!”

The shouting touched off another coughing spell, this one so silent that it doubled her over and almost caused her to lose her grip on the flashlight. As she

gasped for breath, she feebly waved the light, praying desperately that they would see her and respond.

A moment later, the helicopter’s huge searchlight blinked on, then off, then on again, and a thin rope lolled out of the open door, followed quickly by a man

clad in an orange jumpsuit who shimmied down the rope and to the ground.

“Oh,” Cat gasped, “thank you god. Thank you.”

When she was finally able to straighten, she saw the man hit the ground and come running toward her, bulky duffel in his hand. “Miss? Are you alright?”

“Yes…my friends…back there…hurry!”

Dylan didn’t bother disguising her sigh of relief as the rescue worker displaced her position at Johnson’s side and pulled out the automatic defibrillator he

had in his duffel. Within a matter of a minute, he had the electrodes taped to the man’s still chest. A second later, he read off the rhythm, and a message

which didn’t tell him anything he didn’t know already. A soft hum as the machine powered up, and he looked around, making sure no one was touching the

patient.

“Stand clear,” ordered the defibrillator in a robotic voice. A second later, Johnson’s body jumped as the electrodes fired.

“Asystole. Check for pulse,” the machine then commented, letting them know the first try had failed. “Check for pulse.”

“Nothing,” the rescue worker replied, confirming the mechanical diagnosis. “Let’s try again.”

Another soft hum, another charge, and Johnson’s lifeless body jerked again.

“Houston,” the man said softly, “we have liftoff.”

The small group, hurting and tired and bedraggled as it was, brightened considerably.

“He’s not out of the woods yet,” the rescue worker cautioned, “but…you guys probably just saved his life.”

With that, he looked up and around, and his eyes widened, and he jumped to his feet quickly. “Aren’t you…?”

Dylan nodded.

“And you’re….”

Cat nodded, a little surprised that she’d been recognized.

The man’s face split into an enormous grin. “Wow. My wife’s gonna be so jealous when I tell her I met Dylan….” His smile faded as a blush stole up his

cheeks and ears. “Oh my god…I met Dylan Lambert!! I can’t believe it!!”

The sound of a throat being softly cleared broke the young man from his haze, and he looked back down at the team physician, who was still crouched at

Johnson’s head.

His response was cut short by the helicopter’s pilot jogging into the clearing, bulging equipment bag slung over one broad shoulder. He nodded at them all,

then knelt down by Johnson, assessing the downed man and talking quietly to his partner. Then he stood, looking the group over carefully.

“Ya’ll aren’t dressed for camping. How’d you get all the way up here?”

“Plane crashed,” Dylan succinctly stated.

“Isn’t that why you’re here?” Cat asked, puzzled.

The pilot shook his head. “No. We were following the SOS signal. We get ‘em all the time from campers who get lost or stuck up here. Not a friendly place

to be, if you get my meaning.”

“It’s not as if we had a choice.” Norton’s mildly chiding voice filtered up from the ground.

“We didn’t hear of any plane crashes in the vicinity.” The pilot was more than a little defensive.

“You’re more than welcome to check out the wreckage yourself, if you want,” Dylan offered, eyebrow raised as she leveled a challenging stare at the

young, cocky man.

The pilot cleared his throat and broke off the stare, looking around the clearing, uncomfortable. “No, that’s alright. I believe you.”

“Lucky us,” was Norton’s dry reply.

“Well,” he said finally, once again in control, “I’m afraid we weren’t expecting quite so large a group.”

““salright,” Dylan drawled. “Get Johnson outta here. He needs it the most. Take the doc too, if you can. She can give you his history.”

“Horace Johnson? The electronics guy?”

“That’d be him.”

“We were on our way to LA for the game,” Cat interjected before doubling over with another coughing fit.

“Damn. I didn’t realize…. Was there anyone else in the plane?”

“Just the pilot,” Dylan replied. “He didn’t make it.”

“Shit. Okay, we can take him and…are you the doctor?”

Norton nodded.

“Okay, we can take you two over to Rocky Mountain Regional and then head back over here.” He looked up at Dylan, a bit disconcerted to find a woman

towering over him. “Will…will you be alright here for a little longer?”

Dylan looked to Cat, who nodded, though she looked absolutely miserable.