Firebreak (Josie Gray Mysteries #4)(36)
“It’s an unmanned border crossing. You park and cross by boat.”
“What’s in Boquillas?”
Josie smiled. “About eighty people. Maybe more now that they opened up the crossing again. It’s a hard town to earn a living in; no industry, and ranching is tough. Some of the people that live there cross the river and set up their art around the canyon trail with coffee cans to collect money. They make money from the tourists that come through. They use the honor system to collect the money people leave when they buy the trinkets.”
“Tough way to live.”
“A good friend of mine is a river guide on the Rio. He and his wife both guide. They don’t make much money. Hot as hell in the summer. Four-hour drive to any major shopping. Scarce water, power outages. But they wouldn’t trade it. He lives on his own terms.”
Pete looked at her, his expression skeptical.
“He’s got his own irrigation system rigged from the creek behind his house. He shares his food with others. For him, it’s not about a fancy house. It’s about the outdoors that stretch around him for miles, and the plot of land he and his wife cultivate. He sees beauty in the rock formations, not in a ten-thousand-dollar slab of polished granite countertop.”
Josie could feel Pete staring at her, and she grinned, realizing she sounded like a zealot. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d be happy to have a granite countertop in my kitchen. But I get where he’s coming from. People think living like this is crazy, but this is paradise to others.”
*
Once they finally arrived at Boquillas Canyon, things moved quickly. The plane was already prepared for takeoff. Since it was a practice run the guys moved rapidly, as they would during a real fire run. Josie stepped into the harness Pete gave her and tried to focus on the good-natured banter of the smoke jumpers standing around her. They’d made hundreds of jumps together and were obviously a close-knit group.
“It’s like riding a bike. But it’s easier. Pete’ll do all the work for you,” one of the guys said. She tried to smile and nod, to not look terrified. She would be strapped to Pete’s chest, staring down at the earth some fifteen thousand feet below them, free-falling for almost a full minute before Pete pulled the cord.
She adjusted the harness around her legs and groin and straightened to find Pete smiling. He tightened the harnesses around her chest. The other men were wearing padded jump jackets and pants that looked like a set of Carhartts, but Pete had said they were lined with Kevlar to protect the men when landing in rough terrain. Each man had two bags strapped to the front of him, and another on his back. She figured they were wearing close to a hundred pounds of gear.
Pete stepped back and examined her equipment. On the drive to Big Bend, he had spent ten minutes explaining how the tandem jump would work. Basically, she would be a passenger for the trip down. Enjoy the ride. Nothing to worry about. She had repeated that phrase in her mind over and over. She rarely flew. She wasn’t afraid of heights, but this was beyond high.
“So, here’s a summary,” Pete said. “We’ll get up to about three thousand feet and the pilot will circle the canyon and drop a couple sets of drift streamers to watch how they fall. The wind coming out of that canyon can be tricky. We also have a crew from Mexico that’s training across the river. They’ll be observing, communicating with our pilot. You’ll get to watch the crew jump. Then we’ll get out to the open field and get up to about fourteen thousand feet to make our jump.”
“That’s almost three miles high.” Josie felt a surge of panic.
Pete smiled but ignored her comment. “My gear will get dropped separately with the heavier tools since you’ll be strapped to me for the jump. One of the van drivers will pick us up and take us over to the training area when we’re done.”
He talked on about the jump and what to expect, obviously trying to keep her mind occupied. She was glad for the effort.
She pointed to a pouch strapped around Pete’s calf. “What’s the bag on your leg?”
“That’s my let-down rope. You land in the top of a hundred-foot pine tree, you need something to rappel down with.”
She laughed. “You guys are insane.”
“I’ve been told that my whole life.” Pete patted her roughly on the arm and motioned toward the plane the other men were boarding. She took a long breath and blew out slowly. She tried to look the part of the confident tagalong, hitching a ride for a free fall.
She climbed a rusted ladder and through a large door that opened into the belly of the Cessna. The engines were roaring and it was almost impossible to hear. Pete sat first on the floor of the airplane and then gestured for her to sit down between his legs. The other men sat along the sides of the plane, apparently in a predetermined order. The plane shuddered and groaned as it gained speed down the makeshift runway. Once in the air, she could see out the door to the land beneath them, spread out like a patchwork quilt of brown and beige shapes.
Pete yelled into her ear, “Two thousand feet.”
Josie tried to distract herself as the plane continued its ascent. And then someone yelled “Three thousand” and everything began happening fast. The men were up and moving, with two men approaching the door, heads out, watching, and then disappearing, then another in quick succession, each one getting a hard tap on the back of his calf from the crew leader. With the crew gone, the plane made its ascent higher into the sky. The jumpmaster held a hand in the air with his fingers spread, indicating five minutes. Pete yelled something in her ear but the engine noise and the roar of the wind were so loud she couldn’t hear. Pete began tightening the already snug harness. She felt constricted, her clothes and equipment tight and bulky, and then Pete pressed the front of his body up against hers. He yelled, “Three minutes.”