Chapter Seventeen

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

COUNTDOWN TO ZERO HOUR 13 HOURS AND 42 MINUTES

AS THE CHOPPER raced up the Mississippi, snaking its way along the river toward the bridge, none of the National Guardsmen inside spoke. All they could do was glance back at the smoke rising from the nuclear power plant and feel both guilt and relief that they had been called away from Clover Hill for a single-person bridge rescue.

They’d just left the danger. This call should be easy.

“ETA four minutes.”

Dani heard the chopper’s status come over the radio, but she was focused on Connor. The boy was staring despondently out the van’s open door, and all Dani could think was how badly she wished she knew him better. Knew what kind of little boy he was, how his brain worked. Was he an old soul who understood exactly what had happened? Was he a youngest child who was used to having his days spoon-fed to him instead of having to figure it out? How independent was he? How stubborn? Without knowing these things, she didn’t know how to get in there.

“Where was your family going?” Dani asked, the megaphone making her voice sound somewhat tinny. His voice came back as a whisper. “Your grandma’s house?” she guessed.

He nodded.

“Grandma’s for Easter.” Dani was smiling. “I see, I see. I imagine you would have a big Easter lunch. Maybe a ham, and mac and cheese? Some fluffy dinner rolls?”

Connor nodded.

“Let me guess, your favorite is… green beans. You’re a green-bean man.”

Connor scrunched up his nose.

“No? Then how about… oh, I know. Brussels sprouts!”

Connor smiled weakly and shook his head.

“Carrots, then. Gotta be. Easter Bunny loves them—no? Not carrots? Well, what else is there—what’s that?”

Connor’s little mouth moved distinctly.

“Pie? Broccoli pie? Ew! What in the world kind—oh, cherry ! Cherry pie.”

Connor giggled as he nodded up and down.

“I see. We got a cherry-pie man. Okay,” Dani said approvingly. “You know, my daddy makes a very good cherry pie, but on Easter he makes his specialty: banana pudding.” Dani whistled. “Yes, sir, that banana pudding is something. It’s Brianna’s—Bri, that’s my daughter, she’s about your age—it’s her favorite dessert of all time. It’s got Nilla wafers and real bananas in it, and he uses Jell-O pudding and real whipped cream. He’s adamant about that—it’s gotta be real whipped cream you whip yourself, not the stuff out of the tub. Bri would eat nothing but that if I’d let her. No ham, no green beans, no mac and cheese. Just banana pudding. I bet she’d share some with you, though. She’d put a big scoop of it on your plate and probably even tell you the secret spice he uses, even though her granddaddy made her swear not to tell anyone. But I think she’d tell you.”

Dani thought of the groceries that were on the kitchen counter waiting for tonight, when Bri and Daddy would make the pudding. Bri would pull over that little step stool. Marion would help her measure the ingredients, then she’d dump them in. He’d help her hold the beater as it whipped the cream, and once her arm got tired, he’d take over to finish the job. Dani’s shift at the station was done in the morning, and she’d been looking forward to coming home to dye Easter eggs and help with the rest of the meal. The house would be warm and smell like baking bread.

For a moment, Dani was there, and she could see Connor was with her. Maybe in his mind, he was sitting at the kids’ table with Bri. It was Easter and they were warm and safe and grateful. There was nothing to do but eat banana pudding and cherry pie. And just as Connor began to smile, they heard the rotor of an incoming chopper.

“Affirmative, we see you,” Levon said into the radio as he made his way down to Dani. “The vehicle’s door is open. Connor’s waiting.”

The UH-72 Lakota followed the path of the river north, the pulsing rhythm of the rotating blades becoming louder and more intense as it approached.

“We’re getting you out!” Dani told Connor. “It’s going to be all right!”

But her screams into the megaphone were lost to the noise that, even to Dani, was intimidating. Connor looked terrified. As the firefighters watched the helicopter position itself high above the van, Dani could feel the vibrations of the thwacking rotor blades in her chest. She could only imagine what it must feel like inside the unstable van—especially to a traumatized little boy who was all alone and couldn’t see the chopper and didn’t know what was happening.

The helicopter’s door slid open. A National Guardsman in a bright red rescue harness positioned himself at the opening. Leaning back, he hung off the side, ready to drop.

“Listen to the man in the helmet! Do what he says! It’s going to be all right!”

Dani knew Connor couldn’t hear her, but she yelled anyway, smiling broadly, giving him a thumbs-up. It was to calm herself as much as him.

The rescuer dropped down out of the helicopter, the length of cable extending as he went. The chopper moved down with him, descending slowly toward the van.

Suddenly, the trees and grass started to move and sway.

The firefighters held on to their helmets as the rotating blades’ powerful downwash blew everything around them—including the fire. The helicopter acted as a bellows, feeding the blaze with fresh infusions of oxygen. Hot orange flames billowed high into the air, encroaching on the van and playing at the feet of the man who dangled from the chopper.

“Up! Lift up!” Levon screamed into the radio, but the chopper was already rising. The guardsman in the harness hung on as the cable swung like a pendulum. As the chopper moved up, the flames went down.

The helicopter went high, much higher than before, creating as much distance from the flames as possible. This time when the line extended and the rescuer dropped down, the chopper held its position, hovering far above the van where its downwash wouldn’t be an issue.

“Give him more line,” Frankie muttered a few moments after the guardsman had stopped dropping. As though someone in the chopper had heard him, a voice came over the radio:

“That’s it. That’s full cable extension.”

With that, the helicopter began a second rescue attempt.

Everyone held their breath as the chopper slowly lowered the guardsman closer to the van. Dani glanced from the flames to the trees to the man to Connor, over and over. The man was getting closer, and so far, the downwash wasn’t bad. The flames were holding steady. The helicopter kept descending, very, very slowly.

“Eyes on me,” Dani yelled, pointing two fingers at Connor, then turning them on herself. The child didn’t blink. His big blue eyes locked on her. “Stay with me. It’s going to be okay.”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, the wind started to whip.

The downwash was still too fierce. It was a game of chicken—the chopper would drop down, the flames would rise up; the helicopter would lift, the flames would recede. The pilot went up and dropped down several more times—until the last attempt, which was a touch too close. The flames lashed out angrily and suddenly the guardsman’s suit went up in a blaze.

Frantically, he swatted at his legs, but the awkward angle and swinging motion made the flames spread quicker, and soon they were covering his whole body. The chopper peeled off, flying downriver, away from the bridge. When it was far enough, the chopper dove, dunking the man in the river. A waft of brown smoke rose from the water.

Two guardsmen leaned out the side of the chopper, yelling down to their friend and directing the pilot as well. Moments later, the cable started to rise, taking the burned rescuer with it. As he spun slowly, dangling in the air, the anguish on his face was clear. When his body reached the door, his fellow guardsmen loaded him in carefully, moving with swift, coordinated precision. They were trained to do exactly this—just typically not for one of their own.

Dani watched the chopper with a bad feeling. She knew what was about to happen. “Don’t,” she muttered. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

But sure enough, a moment later, the chopper rose. The voice on the radio was final.

“Put the fire out or get a different plan. With that wing burning, this isn’t possible.”

“No,” she cried as Levon pulled her back by the arm.

Helicopter rescue had been their last idea. There was no other way. It had to work. Pushing toward the helicopter as it moved farther away, becoming smaller and smaller, Dani screamed into the void, her voice echoing through the woods:

“Come back!”