Sydney shuddered and roused as the mischievous wind once more managed to slither down the back of his neck as he leaned against the side of the fuselage, and the involuntary movement roused the woman who was still leaning against him heavily. He did his best to adjust the blankets around them both without exposing his hand or any unnecessary skin of either of them to the elements, but still Miss Parker stirred. “S…s…Sydney?”

“Shhhh…” he shivered at her. “Go back to sleep. It’s b…barely light out.”

“S…s…o c…cold,” she shivered back, ducking her nose beneath the edge of the blanket that covered both of them to the chin.

“I know, P…parker,” he told her. “But at least we m…made it through the night.” He pressed his cheek against her forehead and found it a little warmer than he’d expected. “It will get a little w…warmer, n…now that it’s daylight.”

“I’m s…scared, S…Sydney,” she admitted. The ache in her shoulder was intense, and there was the beginning of an ache in her belly that she couldn’t be sure felt anything like hunger. “And I d…don’t feel s…so good,” she added, wishing that she didn’t have to sound so much like a petulant child.

“You’re p…probably j…just hungry,” he reassured her to the best of his ability. “We…we all need to eat s…soon.”

The mention of the others roused her just a little more. “H…how are they?”

Sydney craned his neck, groaning at the pain such movement caused, and tried to see beyond the row of seats that divided their little section of fuselage wall from that against which the stewardess and the little girl were leaning. “I can’t tell from here,” he said softly, “and I’m n…not all that anxious to g…get up and ch…check, to b…be honest.”

He could feel her right hand, which had been sandwiched between them all night, clutch at his belt as if she could hold him there with her that way. “D…don’t l…leave me,” she demanded in a frantic tone.

His own arm tightened around her waist. “I’m n…not going anywhere, Parker. It’s t…too damned c…cold.”

“S…Sydney?” Bennings’ call was just as filled with the sound of chattering teeth as his own speech.

“That you, Bennings?” he answered.

“I d…don’t know if this g…g…guy is s…still alive.” Bennings’ voice sounded strained and more than a little frightened.

“Is he b…breathing?” Sydney asked in response.

“I can’t t…tell,” Bennings answered with the beginnings of panic.

Sydney sighed. If it weren’t a question of life and death… “Hang on,” he said finally. “I’m c…coming.”

“Sydney, n…no…” Miss Parker protested as she felt the blankets over her begin to shift.

“I have to check the m…man with Bennings, Parker,” he reminded her apologetically. “I’ll be r…right b…back.” He left his jacket around her shoulders and took only the one blanket to give him the semblance of protection, then tucked the remaining blankets around her as snuggly as he could. He could see her grey eyes gazing at him pleadingly as he turned and worked his way to his feet, which felt almost numb from having only shoes and stockings to keep them warm.

Slowly and almost painfully he made his way across the aisle to where Bennings was up on one elbow next to his body-warmth partner. Sydney sank to his knees next to the man and reached out a hand to the side of the man’s neck. “Is he s…still alive?” Bennings asked after a few moments.

“He’s unconscious,” Sydney replied finally. “His p…pulse is s…slow and a little thready.” He lifted the blankets to check the worst of the man’s lacerations for new bleeding. “He’s not b…bleeding – at least, not wh…where we can s…see.”

“What can we d…do for him?” Bennings demanded.

Sydney retracted his hand to behind the blanket and looked into the face of the one of all of them who was virtually uninjured. “We n…need warmth f…first and f…foremost,” he replied simply with yet another shudder. “If at all p…possible, we n…need a w…way to make a f…fire in here to keep us a…all from f…freezing to death b…before help comes.”

Bennings looked up and around the demolished fuselage. “There’s p…plenty of w…wood – all we need is k…kindling and something to s…start a fire…”

“And s…something to p…put the fire IN s…so that it doesn’t j…just s…set the cabin in g…general on fire,” Sydney warned.

Bennings sighed and sat up straighter, shivered, and then pulled the blankets more securely around the badly injured man. “D…do you want to g…go after w…wood, or look f…for something to use as a h…hearth?”

“I’m n…not sure I sh…should be doing much b…bending and heavy l…lifting,” Sydney told him. “I’m s…still seeing d…double m…most of the time, and my neck and sh…shoulders feel like they’re ready to f…fall away from my b…body. I was thinking that I would s…see how far I got g…going through any l…luggage that is still intact – if we can g…get ourselves into w…w…warmer clothing…”

“I’m not in m…much b…better shape,” Bennings growled. “I ache too. And from wh…where I sit, we n…need to stick t…together and cooperate – g…get the j…jobs done quicker…”

“You b…both need to j…just get b…back into your seats and s…stay fastened,” Natalie’s voice came through the cabin. “I c…can’t take r…responsibility for my p…passengers r…running all over the p…place, t…taking ch…chances…”

“Lady, the only r…reason you s…stayed warm last n…night was b…because I ran all over the place,” Bennings snapped at the woman.

“I told you, th…that isn’t going to help,” Sydney caught at the man’s arm. “S…seeing us as s…still in f…flight is the only way sh…she can r…remain even halfway f…functional – and we n…need her help in t…taking care of the little one.”

“If she c…can’t see the f…fix we’re in, she’s a m…m…menace to us and to h…herself,” Bennings shook his head. “We have enough to w…worry about that we d…don’t need s…someone living in a fantasy world.”

“Sh…short of knocking her out, I d…don’t see how you’re g…going to do very m…much to change things,” Sydney sighed. “You n…need to curb your im…impatience…”

“You n…need to just s…stick to fixing psyche’s and s…splinting broken b…bones, Sydney,” Bennings retorted. “The only w…way through this s…situation is for one p…person to take a leadership role and o…organize those who are c…capable.”

“And y…you think y…you’re the one most qualified for that r…role, I take it.” Sydney allowed sarcasm to season his tone.

“That’s right,” Bennings nodded confidently. “I h…head a large philanthropic f…foundation with h…hundreds of employees – I’m f…familiar with the j…job of delegating authority…”

“And I am th…the one familiar with the physical c…capabilities of our g…group,” Sydney retorted. “I know the emotional s…stability of the p…people you’re talking about ordering around – and wh…whether or not they would even understand wh…what you ask of them.”

“W…will you two j…just sit down, f…fasten your belts and sh…shut up?” Natalie snapped, dumping the little girl on the ground and rising in anger. “I’m the employee of the airline p…present here, and I sh…should have the r…responsibility…”

“Can it, Lady,” Bennings snarled. “You can’t even tell that we’re not in the air, f…flying on peacefully to our destination. Your b…bubbles have been knocked so far off plumb…”

“All of you, sh…shut up!” Miss Parker had found her way to her feet and stumbled over to join them – and Sydney reached for her and had her supported with a hand at her back before she could wilt.

“Parker…” he began, only to have her push against him to stand on her own again.

“This bickering is meaningless and could get us all killed. Bennings, you’re the most physically capable – that makes you the most likely p…person to ask to do physically challenging tasks, like gathering wood and maybe f…figuring out how to block off the wind from whistling through here all the time. Sydney, you’re the s…second most physically capable here – and the one with the most training in p…planning and strategy. Figure out what we can use to build a fire in here without b…burning our shelter to a crisp and then see what you can find as far as luggage and extra clothing. Natalie, you help S…sydney and keep an eye on that kid. We don’t need her w…wandering around and getting lost, and we don’t need you doing it either.”

Bennings found himself under the glare of storm-grey eyes and a determined expression. “And just who the hell d…do you think YOU are?”

Miss Parker did her best to pull herself to her full height. “My name is MISS Parker, and I am the head of Surveillance and Internal Security for one of the biggest R&D think tanks in the US. I trained the people who train our bodyguards in the martial arts, and I am responsible for the design and maintenance of security systems used by corporations and governments world-wide. I am no paper-pusher sitting at a fancy desk.”

Bennings bristled in the half-light of dawn through snow-obscured portholes and cast his gaze at the others. “I’ll be d…damned if I let some dame…”

“Miss Parker is right,” Sydney nodded. “There are enough j…jobs that we can’t afford to argue like this. Her suggestions are good ones – I move we do as she asks.”

Bennings turned angry emerald eyes on her. “And just what the hell do you suggest that YOU do in the interim, Y…your Majesty?”

Miss Parker turned and pointed. “There’s a man over there who is barely alive – who’s lost even m…m…more blood than I h…have - and he needs to be kept warm. I can also help with the kid for a while…” Sydney could hear how much of a concession that was. “…so that N…natalie can help with the luggage and finding warmer clothing for us to w…wear.”

Bennings was finally calming down enough to hear the reason in Miss Parker’s words. “All right,” he conceded somewhat less than gracefully. “I can accept that.”

“Good.” Miss Parker positioned herself so she could sag against a seat back without being too apparent about it. “Bennings, once you f…figure out how to b…block the wind, everybody who can move and do even a little lifting will h…help. Are we all agreed?”

“I don’t think…” Natalie began, but her complaint died as Miss Parker put herself in the woman’s face.

“You have one b…broken arm. I can give you a m…matched set, if you don’t cooperate.” Miss Parker hissed at her.

Bennings leaned toward Sydney with raised brows. “Your daughter has quite a way about her, doc.”

“She wasn’t known as the ‘Ice Queen’ for n…nothing,” the Belgian responded with a look of pride in his eye. “She’s the b…best at what she does – and she doesn’t accept anything l…less from others.”

“C’mon, people, let’s move,” Miss Parker gestured with her good hand. “Syd, tuck me down with our injured friend here – and then tuck the girl in with us – before you start seeing what we can do about getting a fire going. Natalie, you stick close to Bennings until S…Sydney comes out, understand?”

~~~~~~~~~*

“Hi. This is the Broots residence. Neither Lazlo nor Debbie can come to the phone right now; but if you leave your name and number…” Jarod growled as he hit the disconnect button on his phone against Debbie’s chipper voice. They were gone – he’d expected that – but had forgotten that the only contact number he had for Broots was his home land line.

There would be no news coming about the crash or Miss Parker from that corner. He was on his own in that respect – and would have to depend upon the media and his own contacts within the NTSA and National Guard.

Frustrated, he shoved his cell phone into the pocket of his sports jacket and reached for his overcoat. The weather had turned chilly in Philadelphia, and his weekly breakfast with his sister meant that he’d have to brave some of that weather.

Emily had been the only one to remain behind in Philly when Charles, Margaret and the rest had relocated to Virginia – she had a high-profile job at the newspaper she didn’t want to lose, not to mention a stubborn brother newly hired at the Bennings Foundation to keep her company. They had instituted a routine of having breakfast together once a week – to compare notes, exchange news from Virginia, to take advantage of the other’s areas of expertise – and it was her turn to host him at her home in the suburbs.

The information he’d received the night before on the alleged assassin was now safely stowed in his briefcase, which he grabbed up at the last moment before heading out of the front door to his apartment. The limousine would be at his apartment house door in less than five minutes, and elevator in this older, more gracious apartment building ran on the slow side on better days.

A few moments later, standing in the brisk late-Fall wind on the sidewalk in front of his building waiting for his ride, he hauled his cell phone out of his pocket and pressed a single key to dial.

“Yeah?” was the answer when the line was picked up.

“It’s me,” Jarod spoke brusquely and quickly. “Take this down: the guy’s name is Stoller, he lives at 1836 West Cherry, Apartment 204. Check it out – and find out when he was last seen in the area.”

“A lead?” the man asked, obviously still in the process of noting down the information.

“A potential problem,” Jarod replied darkly. “Get back to me as soon as you know something.”

“Gotcha, boss. Anything else?”

The cream-colored limo swerved out of traffic and pulled up to the curb smoothly. “No, that’s it. Call me,” Jarod directed, then shoved the phone back into his pocket so he had a free hand with which to negotiate climbing into the back of the vehicle.

“Where we going, Mr. Green?” the driver asked solicitously through the sliding glass window that separated the front from the more comfortable passenger compartment.

“My sister’s, Evan,” Jarod answered absently as he pulled his briefcase onto his lap and opened it to pull out the photo of the man he was seeking. “And then to the office after.”

“Yes, sir,” the chauffer replied and moved the big car skillfully back into the flow of traffic and around a corner heading for the wide highway that connected downtown Philadelphia with many of its suburbs. He knew the route well, but was concerned at the silence from the back. Jarod was normally a much more congenial and conversant passenger – something must be seriously amiss to have silenced a committed jokester.

He wondered if it had anything to do with the Big Boss being in that airline crash – and then shook his head. Your job is to drive Mr. Green wherever he wants to go, Evan, he chided himself. Worry about getting there in one piece – leave the rest of it for Mr. Jarod to worry about. He took his hand off the wheel just long enough to give a sharp jerk to he brim of his black cap and then focused on the traffic.

~~~~~~~~~*

Erin sucked hard on the straw of her diet cola and cast her gaze about the Student Union continually. If she weren’t so angry, she would have been concerned.

Cherry had never called – and now her research partner had stood her up for their meeting to get the paper outlined and decide who was going to do what as far as creating the final copy. How in the hell did they expect to get that research paper written if half of them was no longer doing the assigned work? Erin sighed – she had gathered enough information on her own to do a very minimal paper. It wouldn’t earn her as good a grade as if she’d been able to work with Cherry – who had a reputation for putting pizzazz into a paper and garnering the better grades – but it would keep her qualifying for her scholarship at the end of the term.

“Hi, Erin,” a young man’s voice sounded practically in her ear, causing Erin to jump.

“Oh. Hi, Frank,” she greeted her classmate, who grinned foolishly at having startled her. “Say, have you seen Cherry today?”

Frank shook his shaggy head. “Nope. She didn’t turn up for Psych class this morning. Aren’t you two working together for Dr. Alfonse?”

“Yeah,” Erin scowled. “She was SUPPOSED to call me last night and then bring all her notes here – NOW. Any idea where she’s gotten to?”

Frank’s face, with its seemingly random allotment of beard growth, went blank for a moment before shaking. “Oh, wait a minute,” he said, brightening. “She told Greg – you know, her neighbor across the hall at her dorm, that she had a date last night.”

Erin blinked. “A date? I thought she was still all broken up over Jess…”

“He told me she said she’d just met this really neat guy, and she was ready to have a good time for a change.” Frank stared at her for a moment. “Have you tried calling her apartment?”

“Several times – all I ever get is the answering machine.”

The young man finally shrugged. “She HAS been known to flake out on study partners before, Erin.”

“I know,” Erin admitted. “But we’ve been friends ever since we both got here. I don’t think she’d just blow me off.”

“Whatcha gonna do?”

She sighed deeply. “No choice, man - head to the library. I gotta get a start on the paper, if Cherry isn’t going to help. To hell with Brody’s class – tell him I’m not feeling well, OK? And take good notes for me.”

“Will do. Meet you later?” Frank smiled at the blonde hopefully, and Erin stifled a chuckle. He was so transparent – and so NOT what she was looking for in a guy.

“I have plans for this afternoon and evening,” she told him. “But I’ll meet you here tomorrow after Lit, if you want…”

The look of absolute joy came across his face. “It’s a date. See you…”

Erin waved at him as he resettled his heavy-looking backpack on his shoulder and walked off in the direction of the Liberal Arts building. Then, with another deep sigh, she turned and tossed her empty soda cup into the nearest trash container and headed off for the tall and quiet Library. She glanced at her wristwatch. She had three hours before Lyle was supposed to be in front of the Student Union – hopefully she could at least get the research paper outlined…

~~~~~~~~~*

“Have you seen this?” Broots pulled the drapes on the window overlooking the parking lot and displayed the dusting of snow that had already settled on the hunched vehicles and the light flurry of flakes being pushed around by the wind in their slow descent.

Sam stared out the window and then at Broots in consternation. If it was starting to snow in Salt Lake City, what was it doing in the Wasatch National Forest? “I’ll turn on the news,” he said in clipped tones, already on the move. “We need some local weather…”

The newscaster’s voice came on loudly and clearly the moment the ON button was pushed. “…has reported that aerial search efforts to locate United Flight 1598 that crashed into the Wasatch National Forest have been grounded until the weather clears. A representative of the National Guard reports that all search efforts in the area will be suspended until a positive sighting of the wreckage has been confirmed, in order to prevent any further loss of life. The National Weather Service predicts that the storm that moved into the area will last through today and into tomorrow, dumping six inches of snow in Cedar City and Salt Lake City – and an expected twenty-four inches at higher elevations. KSLC reporter Jim Carney spoke with a representative of the National Transportation and Safety Administration yesterday evening, and was told this…”

The picture changed quickly, focusing on a clean-shaven young man with a microphone in his face. His expression was grave, and his eyes bespoke how uncomfortable he was to be speaking on-camera. “Analysts with our Agency have expressed serious doubts about the possibility of survivors, considering the elevation of the probable crash site and the inclement weather at higher elevations. With that in mind, our liaison with the sheriff’s Search and Rescue teams in the area have determined that rescue efforts will be suspended indefinitely, pending the resumption of aerial search teams making a confirmed sighting of the wreckage.”

The newscaster’s face blinked back into view. “United Flight 1598 was bound for San Francisco from New York City, and was carrying one hundred twenty eight passengers and crew. The names of the crash victims are behind withheld pending notification of next of kin and confirmation from rescuers arriving on the scene. And now, in other news…”

Sam hit the button and turned the TV off again, not really wanting to look over at Broots. “We should still head for Ogden,” he said doggedly, pulling his polo shirt over the top of his tee shirt and tucking it into the waistband of his pants. “I want to be as close to the action as I can get the moment the airplanes go back up.”

“Sam…” Broots began, his heart in his shoes at the thought of Sydney and Miss Parker dead up on that mountain, without even anybody out looking for them at the moment.

“No!” Sam shook his head vehemently. “I won’t believe that they’re dead until I see it for myself – and until that moment, I’m going to behave as if Miss Parker and Sydney are up there, waiting for us to get off our asses and help them out. If they’re alive, they need people down here believing that they are.” He turned a ferocious blue glare on Broots. “I don’t want to hear anything different – and neither do you.”

Broots nodded slowly and then turned warning eyes to his daughter, cautioning her wordlessly to agree as well. This was a side of his sweeper friend that he’d never encountered before – he’d never expected that much vehemence from a sweeper in the first place, much less from Sam. Sam had always been a calm, cool and very capable operative – whether it be in watching Miss Parker’s back or in the hunt for Jarod proper – to see him half unglued was unsettling, to say the least.

It was just as well that Broots had surrendered the job of driving to Sam already – the task of keeping the little car they’d rented on slippery and possibly icy roads would hopefully keep Sam’s mind from entertaining less pleasant thoughts. Debbie looked as if she hadn’t slept well the night before – she’d probably sack out in the back seat and not be much company.

It was going to be a long and tense day.

~~~~~~~~*

“Yeah. What did you find out?” Jarod demanded into the cell phone.

“Stoller commented to his landlady a couple of days ago that he’d be out of town for about a week on a job,” the man on the other end reported. “A Yellow Cab came and picked him up and took him to La Guardia at about ten yesterday morning. I called the Yellow Cab dispatch and got a hold of the driver who took him to the airport. He said that he had to make the flight to San Francisco.”

“MAKE the flight?” Jarod sat up straighter at his sister’s kitchen table and tried to avoid looking at Emily, who had turned around at the strident tone in her brother’s voice from having finished feeding all of their breakfast dishes except the coffee mugs into the dishwasher. “You mean, he was ON the plane with Carl when it went down?”

“Looks like it, boss. I also called in a favor and got the name and number of a known associate of Stoller – and I talked to him too. Looks like Stoller likes to get in nice and close to do his hits – and that he’s VERY good at what he does.”

“Damn.” Jarod wiped his mouth with his free hand nervously. “Have you seen any news lately? What’s the news from Utah?”

“Last I heard, all the searches have been called off on account of a storm,” his assistant stated with a shrug obvious in his tone. “Anything else you want me to do, Boss?”

“No,” Jarod sighed in frustration. “Head on back to the office – I’ll meet you there at eleven.” He punched the disconnect button with more force than necessary and stuffed the device into his shirt breast pocket.

“Jarod…” Emily sat down just around the corner of the table from her big brother and put a gentle hand on his forearm. “What’s going on here?”

Eyes that were as dark as her own came up to meet her gaze with a guilty expression in their depths, and then dropped away. “Carl Bennings was on that United flight that crashed into the mountains in Utah yesterday,” he told her slowly, “and now I find out that an assassin that had accepted the Blair contract was on the flight with him.”

A second hand landed on the forearm to join the first. “I’m so sorry,” Emily said softly. She knew how Jarod felt about his boss and best friend – and had a pretty good idea of how hard it was for him to have to sit here over half a continent away and wait for others to dig up the body. “So the crash wasn’t sabotage?”

He shook his head and reached for his coffee with his unencumbered hand. “No… I seriously doubt a self-respecting assassin would commit suicide like that – BEFORE getting paid for the job well-done,” he replied caustically, then backed down. “I’m sorry, Sis. It’s just…” No. He couldn’t tell her about the rest of his worries – she wouldn’t understand. She’d only barely forgiven him for not asking Zoe to marry him.

“I know,” she sympathized with him. “Is there anything I can do?”

He looked up into her face with an agonized expression on his face. “Keep your ear to the newswires for me while you’re at work today?” he asked softly. “It’s… it’s important to me.”

Emily tipped her head in an expression that Jarod had become very fond of – and which could irritate him quicker than few others. “There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?” she asked astutely. She studied his face closely. “You didn’t get much sleep last night, did you?”

“Em…” he complained.

“What is it? Is it Them again?” she asked bitterly. “Have they found you again? Are you going to have to run again, after all this time…”

“No, no, nothing like that,” he reassured her and took one of her hands from his forearm with his other hand and squeezed it. “It has nothing to do with them.” Liar! he berated himself. You know damned well it has everything to do with them.

“Just making sure,” Emily told him firmly, rising and picking up both of the coffee cups from the table. “And now, we both need to get our rears in gear or we’re both going to be late for work.”

Jarod rose too, and took his sister into a gentle embrace. “Thanks for the eats, Sis – and I’m sorry I wasn’t such good company today.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Emily replied, closing her eyes and hugging her brother tightly. “Oh, and I was supposed to tell you that Ethan is going to be in town this evening. You wanna get together for dinner after I pick him up at the airport?”

“What’s Little Brother coming to the Big City for?” Jarod asked as he let her go, genuinely curious. “He doesn’t like Big Cities, if memory serves.”

“He didn’t say,” Emily told him, shrugging. “He just said that he had to talk to you – so I suppose you’ll find out sometime at dinner.” She bent and then handed him his briefcase, which he’d left next to hers near the front door. “I’ll call you when I have the plans made.”

“Be good,” he kissed his sister on the cheek fondly, “and say Hi to Little Brother for me when you see him.” He waved at her once more from halfway down the sidewalk to where Evan was waiting for him in the limo. He climbed into the passenger compartment with a serious look falling over his face.

What on earth would Ethan want with him? And why now?

~~~~~~~~*

Clarence Evans scratched his head as he shuffled over to the window facing out into the parking lot and pulled the drapes. It was late – after noon already, if the angle of the sunlight was any indication – and he still felt as if he’d been dragged through a knothole. His next-door neighbors had continued their…ahem…activities until nearly dawn, and he’d finally dug out that last bottle of scotch from the bottom of his samples case and reinforced his drunk so he could pass out so that the noise wouldn’t bother him. And now his mouth tasted like an outhouse smelled, his head felt as if it were ready to just roll off of his shoulders and into the toilet, and his stomach was telling him in no uncertain terms that food would be an unwelcome intruder for the time being.

He snorted as he saw a man emerge from the room next door with an overnight bag and a huge and heavy-looking suitcase in hand and head to the black sedan that was parked at the very end of the parking lot. “Finally had enough, did you, you jerk?” he growled, but not loudly enough to carry through thin walls and plate glass. “I wonder if your bosses know what you do on your off hours,” he commented, noting the fresh, almost new appearance to the man’s sweat suit and sneakers. “Was she your wife – or did you hire her by the hour?”

Feeling like a voyeur – and finding it a satisfying payback for the embarrassment and frustration of the night before – he laughed when the overnight bag slipped from the man’s left hand. It seemed that the man had no thumb on that hand – and it made handling that extra piece of luggage difficult. “You deserve that, you prick!” Clarence chortled at the second time the bag hit the ground.

Finally, however, the man had his luggage loaded into the back of the car and was climbing behind the steering wheel. Clarence had one chance to get a good look at the reason he’d not gotten any sleep that night before his stomach finally rebelled entirely, and he had to run to the bathroom to lose what little remained of his liquid dinner.

God, but he felt shitty!

~~~~~~~~*

Erin sat on top of the brick wall that bordered the flowerbed to the north of the main entrance to the Student Union, positively fuming. ‘What was it with people lately?’ she growled to herself silently. ‘First Cherry, now Lyle… Is it my deodorant, or was it something I said…’

For the tenth time she tipped her wrist and looked at her watch. Two-fifteen, and not a sign of her date yet. She sighed and decided in a fit of pique that if he wasn’t here in the next five minutes, she was taking off – she’d go find Frank and take him out to a pizza parlor and get them both snockered on beer and peanuts. And if she couldn’t find Frank… She narrowed her eyes and looked around again. She’d think of SOMETHING interesting to do, by God.

So intense was she in her staring down the sidewalk to the Union that she didn’t notice Lyle come out of the Student Union behind her. “Hi,” he said softly, hoping not to startle her too much. “Sorry I’m late – had a meeting that ran late…”

Erin’s face relaxed from the expression of belligerence and frustration that it had worn for the better part of the last three hours, and she threw her arms around Lyle’s neck. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming – and after the day I’ve had, it would have been one disappointment too many,” she purred, laying her head on his shoulder and enjoying the feel of his arms surrounding her and holding her close.

“I’m sorry your day has been bad,” Lyle smoothed back her hair from her face fondly. “What’s gone wrong? Tell me about it – and maybe you’ll feel better.”

“Oh,” she sighed and stared at his ear, “my best friend didn’t show up to help on a research paper we’re writing together – and she didn’t call last night either. I’ve just spent the last three hours in the library, trying to cobble a coherent research paper out of my half of the information we were going to use together.”

“That’s too bad,” Lyle murmured comfortingly into her ear. “I’ll have to have a talk with this friend of yours one of these days.”

“I’m just glad you finally showed up,” Erin continued happily. She was about to lift her head from his shoulders when she saw the small droplet of something dark on the side of his neck. “You must have cut yourself shaving,” she stated, licking her finger and wiping at it gently, “you have blood on your neck.”

Lyle stood very still beneath her ministrations. “Did you get it,” he asked finally, once he felt her no longer working on a spot on his neck below his ear.

“Got it,” she announced and pushed herself out of his arms a little. “So… Where are you going to take a woman who’s had a really awful day?”

“How about we just get in my car and start driving – you can tell me if you see something you want me to stop for?” Lyle suggested, slipping his arm about her waist. Why had he always avoided contact with the young and innocent before? How wonderful it was to break out the old persona that he’d lived with until Lyle Bowman had beaten it out of him. Who knows, maybe it would have been his real self, if the latter part of his life had never happened…

“That sounds wonderful – just what I need,” Erin bubbled happily, slipping her arm around his waist in return. “Where’s your car?” She took a good look at the informal garb he was in. “I thought you said you were in a meeting…”

“Some of the members wanted to adjourn it for the sauna at the local gym,” he explained glibly without hesitation. “I don’t know about you, but the last thing I want to wear after sweating like a pig in a sauna is a business suit…”

Erin just leaned into him as he slipped the key into the front passenger door lock. “I just mean it’s nice to see that you can wear something besides monkey suits.”

Lyle merely grinned at her and gave her a glancing kiss to the cheek as she climbed into the car. This was going to be the perfect end to the perfect day – with the final celebration to come tomorrow at noon, when he cooked up that delightful cut of thigh that sat in the battery-powered cooler in the suitcase in the trunk of the car.

Life couldn’t get much better than this!

~~~~~~~~*

Miss Parker withheld the sigh of exasperation when the little girl once more shifted against her, trying to find a comfortable spot in the small space that existed between the bodies of the adults lying beside her. The child had been quiet – and Miss Parker suspected at one point, she’d been crying. And now, with the morning wearing on, she was starting to get fidgety.

Surprisingly, the man next to her gave a low moan, and Miss Parker hushed at the child as she propped herself up on her left elbow to get a good look at him. The incredibly pale face winced several times, and then the eyelids fluttered. “Take it easy,” she cautioned him. “We have most of your injuries bandaged, but don’t try to move…”

The dark brown eyes opened slowly and then took in the situation around them just as slowly. “Where are we?”

Miss Parker let herself slide back into a prone position, with the child nestled between herself and the man next to her, and straightened the numerous blankets over them so that they gave maximum protection from what was still a very cruel chill. “You’re up on a mountainside,” she explained gently. “We crashed.”

The man shifted – or tried to – and then let loose an agonized groan of pain. “I can’t move my legs…”

“They’re both broken,” Miss Parker told him sadly. “You also have some pretty nasty cuts – a deep gash on your torso that we frankly thought would do you in if we didn’t get it bandaged in time…”

The dark eyes slowly focused on her again. “Who’s this ‘we’ you speak of?”

“Six of us are left,” she stated with a flat voice. “We’re all that’s left.”

The dark gaze lifted and looked around, seeing little other than the bottoms of seats. “What is this place?”

“What’s left of first class,” she announced with brittle humor. “The best shelter around right now.” The little girl shifted and tapped Miss Parker on the right shoulder. Miss Parker drew her breath in a pained hiss, but restrained her urge to snarl. “What is it, sweetie?”

“Where’s Mommy?”

Miss Parker closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Why couldn’t the kid’s questions have come when Sydney was around? “She’s gone, sweetie,” she explained with as gentle a tone as she could manage. “She’s gone to Heaven.”

“She wouldn’t wake up.” The child’s voice was confused.

“I know, baby,” Miss Parker soothed. “What’s your name?”

Dark eyes found her face – eyes that had very little emotion in them. “Emily,” the child replied softly.

Miss Parker looked over at the man. “What about you? What’s your name?”

He shifted again, groaned and then sighed. “George. You?”

“Parker,” she replied, closing her eyes and wrapping her left arm about Emily’s slight shoulders. The poke in her right shoulder had set the thing to aching badly. “You can call me Parker.”

“What’s wrong with you?” George asked in a breathy voice, his words leaving a small cloud of steam over his face.

“Bolt of wood through the shoulder,” she answered, “broken collarbone.”

“We’re in great shape, aren’t we?” George’s voice was bitter.

“Shit happens,” slipped from her lips before she had a chance to remember that there were young children present.

“Parker?” Sydney’s voice called to her from the back of the cabin. “Parker? Are you awake?”

“Sydney,” she called back and was finally grateful to see the familiar face peering down at her from between the rows of seats. “What did you find?”

“Bennings is hauling it in,” he stated, slipping to a sitting position next to her. “I’m not sure what it is, but it’s round and bowled in a bit – and big enough to hold a decent-sized fire.”

“Sydney!” came the winded voice of Bennings from the back of the cabin. “I could use a hand…”

Sydney groaned and got back to his feet with some difficulty.

“You still seeing double, Syd?” Miss Parker asked quickly.

“I’m managing,” was all he would tell her before he was shuffling carefully back to lend his meager effort to the process of dragging the heavy piece of metal into the cabin. In the end, the only place it could actually fit was in the forward part of the cabin, where the seats had been torn from their place by the force of the breaking branches through the side of the fuselage. Both men sagged back against seats, breathing hard and eyeing the makeshift hearth. First Sydney and then Bennings finally cast their eyes to where the corpses of the young couple still lay on the destroyed seat.

“We need to get them out of here – and get rid of that row of seats too,” Bennings said finally, voicing what they both knew.

Sydney nodded slowly and then turned to where Miss Parker lay. “Parker, cover the girl’s face – she doesn’t need to see this.”

“C’mon, sweetie,” Miss Parker purred at the girl. “Tuck your face in here and get nice and warm.”

Emily didn’t protest or rebel, but merely snuggled down into the space she’d occupied for hours already, with her face pressed hard into Miss Parker’s side.

“Do it, Syd,” Miss Parker called back. “All clear.”

Bennings brought out a single blanket and carefully helped Sydney move the stiffened bodies onto it so that they could be dragged out the back after being lifted over the hearth. Miss Parker deliberately kept her face down with Emily’s, soothing and softly singing to the child to keep her from getting curious about the noises going on around her that got louder when it came to dragging the demolished seats out the back. Finally, however, the men returned and once more sagged against the remains of the seats at the more open forward end of the cabin.

“All done,” Sydney called.

Miss Parker put her lips to Emily’s ear. “You stay here and help George stay warm – I’ll be right back.”

“‘Kay,” the girl replied without emotion, turning and snuggling now against the man’s side just as she had been against Miss Parker.

George lifted his arm with a groan and put it around the child’s shoulders. “Stick with me, kiddo – and we’ll both be warm.”

Miss Parker walked slowly and painfully through the cabin from front to back, carrying every broken piece of wood she could find forward until the hearth was piled with fuel. “We need something to start a fire,” she announced then, giving each adult she didn’t know an intense look. “Anybody smoke?”

“I do,” came George’s tortured voice. “In my pants pocket.

Bennings walked over and bent over the man while Sydney cleared most of the larger piece of wood to the side. “We need to be frugal,” he explained to Miss Parker’s questioning gaze. “And we need kindling.”

Miss Parker reached up and pulled down one of the pillows from the overhead compartments and tore open the zippered plastic cover. “Hold this,” she instructed him and handed him the opened pillow so that she could reach in and tear out small pieces of the foam within and stuff it under and around the few branches Sydney had left. Finally she took the pillow away from him and tossed it into a corner. “Bennings, see if that will light.”

As the foam flared and the smaller branches caught fire, the warmth began to spread – and six survivors looked at each other in surprised satisfaction. Fire meant survival.

Now all they needed was rescue.

~~~~~~~~*

Inez Campos slowly trundled her cart down the walk toward the last room on her shift. The drunk in the room next door had his “Do Not Disturb” sign prominently posted, so she moved smoothly past that door and then stopped to slip her master key into the door of the last room. Not that she expected it – the patrons of the Evening Star Motel weren’t exactly the best caliber people – but she hoped that at least the last person in here would have left her a tip.

Grasping the bar on the end of her cleaning cart, she backed into the room and turned around to survey just how much of a mess had been left for her to clean up.

Her screams carried for more than two city blocks.

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