Adirondack Attack. Jenna Kernan

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СКАЧАТЬ ruined chopper as the bubble of clear plastic slowly filled with river water. Inside the pilot slumped in his seat, tethered in place by the shoulder restraints.

      “Is he alone?” asked Merle, coming to stand beside Dalton, asking him the questions as he emerged as the clear leader of their party.

      “Seems so,” said Dalton as he released Erin’s hand.

      “He’s moving!” said Richard, pointing a finger at the river.

      Erin craned her neck and saw the pilot’s head turn to one side. Alive, she realized.

      “He’s sinking,” said Brian. “It’s at his feet now.”

      “We have to get him out of there,” said Alice.

      “He’ll drown,” added Richard.

      “You have rope?” asked Dalton.

      Erin roused from her waking nightmare, knowing exactly what her husband planned. He’d string some rope up and swing down there like Tarzan in a daring rescue attempt.

      Except she was the better swimmer. Dalton was only an average swimmer at best and today he was four weeks post-surgery. His abdominal muscles could not handle this. He’d tear something loose, probably the artery that the surgeon had somehow managed to close. She squared her shoulders and faced him.

      Erin regained control of her party.

      “You are not going down there!” she said.

      He ignored her and lifted a hand to snap his fingers before Richard’s face. “Rope?”

      Richard startled, tore his gaze from the drama unfolding in the river and then hurried off.

      “Dalton, I’m the party leader. I’m going,” she said.

      He smiled at her. “Honey...”

      Her eyes narrowed at the placating tone as she interrupted. “You might get down there, but you can’t climb back up. Who’s going to haul you back?”

      He glanced at the drop and the chopper. The water now reached the pilot’s knees.

      When Richard returned with the gear bag, Erin dropped to the ground and unzipped the duffel. As she removed the throw line and sash cord, she kept talking.

      “I’m a better climber. More experienced.” She reached in the bag, removed a rope and dropped it at his feet. “Tie a bowline,” she said, requesting a simple beginner knot.

      His eyes narrowed.

      She held up an ascender used to make climbing up a single belay rope as easy as using a StairMaster. “What’s this for?” she asked, testing his knowledge of climbing.

      His jaw tightened.

      “Exactly. I’m going. That’s all.”

      Erin showed Dalton the throw ball, a sand-filled pouch that looked like a cross between a hacky sack and a leather beanbag filled with lead shot. Its purpose was to carry the lighter sash cord up and over tree branches, or in this case, down and around the top of the chopper’s damaged rotor. Finished, she rose and offered the throw ball and towline to Dalton because he was better at throwing and because she needed him to leave her alone so she could work.

      “Knock yourself out,” she said, leaving him to try to snag the helicopter as she slipped into her climbing harness and fastened the chin strap on her helmet.

      “How deep is the river here?” asked Dalton.

      “Twenty feet, maybe. The river is deeper and wider here, which is why there’s no white water. The gorges close back in farther down and the water gets interesting again.”

      Twenty feet was deep enough to sink that fuselage, she thought.

      Erin selected a gap in the top of the rocky outcropping for her chock. This was an aluminum wedge that would hold her climbing rope. The climbing rope, on which she would belay, or use to descend and then return, was strong and much thicker than the towrope, which was no wider than a clothesline. Belaying to the pilot meant using this stronger rope and the cliff wall to drop to his position and then return using two ascenders. The ascenders fixed to the rope and would move only in one direction—up. The ascenders included feet loops, so she could rest on one as she moved the other upward.

      She set the wedge in place and then set up her belay system. Finally, she attached her harness to the rope with a carabiner and figure eight belay device. She liked old-school equipment. Simple was best.

      By the time she finished collecting all her gear, a second harness and the pack with the first aid kit, Dalton had succeeded in snagging the chopper with the throw ball and pulled the cord tight.

      “Got it.” He turned to her and grinned, showing her the tight towline.

      “Fantastic,” she said, squatting at the lip of the cliff. Then she fell backward. She had the satisfaction of seeing the shock on Dalton’s face before he disappeared from her sight. Only momentarily, unfortunately. When she glanced up he was scowling down at her. Holding the towrope aloft.

      “What’s this even for?” he shouted.

      “It’s like those spinner things, only for grown men.”

      She continued her descent, smoothly releasing the rope and slowing as she reached the river’s uneasy surface. As she approached the chopper, she realized the wreckage was moving, inching back as the rotor dragged along the branch anchoring it in place.

      The pressure of the water splashed over the dome in front of the pilot, who turned his head to look up at her. She could see little of the man except that his headphones had fallen over his nose and there was blood, obscured from above by his dark clothing.

      Her feet bumped the Plexiglas dome and she held herself in place, dancing sideways on her line to reach the door on the downriver side. It was partially submerged, but the other one took the full force of the current. She’d never be able to open it.

      The pilot clutched his middle and turned to the empty seat beside him. He grabbed a red nylon cooler and laboriously moved it to his lap.

      “I’m going to get you out,” said Erin, doubting that she really could.

       Chapter Three

      Dalton watched in horror as his wife opened the side compartment door and gave herself enough slack to enter the ruptured compartment of the wrecked chopper.

      The pilot lifted his head toward her as she perched on the passenger’s seat, now pitched at an odd angle. Her added weight had caused the chopper’s runner to farther slip along the anchoring branch. When the chopper tore loose, it would sink and she might be snagged. Cold dread constricted Dalton’s chest as he watched helplessly from above.

      If he had been the one down there, he was certain the chopper would already have broken loose. She’d been right to go, though he’d still rather switch places with her. She’d been so darn quick with those СКАЧАТЬ