The Challenge(31)

“I do not,” he said, incensed. “Except maybe the six-year-old. Maybe you should do a story on six-year-olds on drugs.” She was unfazed by his response, and was obviously used to being given inappropriate responses, given the nature of her questions, and her aggressive style.

“Are you concerned that the fires are starting to burn out of control on Granite Peak? What if they can’t get to your daughter in time?” He couldn’t believe what she was asking.

He looked horrified. “Are you seriously asking me how I’ll feel if my daughter is burned alive on the mountain before they rescue her? Are you insane? What kind of morality do you have to ask a question like that? How do you live with yourself, exploiting people who are potentially facing tragedy and worried sick about their kids?”

“Do you think any of them will die?” she asked in a morbid voice, and the muscle went taut in Tom’s jaw.

“Get away from my truck or I’m calling the police,” he said in a low growl, but she heard him.

“How do you feel about the amount of tax dollars being spent on this rescue, with the military called in, what it must be costing, many millions of dollars, and the poverty programs that could have been funded with that money?”

“You mean just let the kids die? Is that what you would suggest?”

“I just wonder if you feel a social responsibility for the way that money is being spent.”

“I’m grateful that the authorities are spending what they need to, to save my daughter and the six other children lost on the mountain with her. Now if you don’t move your ass away from my truck door, I am calling the cops. And by the way, what’s your name?”

“Selma Thornton,” she said proudly.

“If you come near me again, or camp outside my house, I’m suing the station for stalking me, and then demanding your job. Are we clear?” Tom was livid.

“Crystal,” she said with a broad smile, completely indifferent to what he had said. “Thanks for a great interview.” He was on the verge of telling her what she could do to herself, but he refrained. But a later report said that he had threatened the reporter, and they implied that he was crazed with grief.

Marlene Wylie didn’t leave her house all day. Pitt and Anne got in their car from the garage. The Browns stayed home and pulled down the shades. Beth snuck out of her hotel and said no one had recognized her. She had gone to the General Store. They got June on camera running to her car. The press was a menace, and all the parents thought they were disgusting. Ideally, the media would have liked photos of all of them crying.

But the most important thing was that the rescue operation was going well. A hundred men on the ground was a huge number. And the six planes were covering areas they hadn’t before. They were systematically exploring areas where the young people could have gone or taken refuge, and eliminating them one by one.



* * *



—

The third day for the kids was the hardest. Noel wasn’t feeling well. The food had run out, except for berries they couldn’t eat anymore. They had tiny, little sips of water left in the bottle, and they cut two apples in quarters and each of them got a quarter of an apple and that was it for the day. They saved the last of the orange juice and the one extra quarter of the apple for Noel. The others had agreed not to eat.

They walked downhill instead of uphill this time, looking for new trails. But the ones they found all stopped at dead ends. They were stumbling and falling, from weakness and rough ground, as they wended their way downhill. Justin couldn’t walk at all, and Matt, Tim, and Peter took turns walking in pairs, and making a seat with their hands to carry Justin downhill. It was slow going, since he was heavy for them. They were visible for a minute or two between the trees occasionally. The helicopters sounded closer, but they couldn’t see them, with the heavy foliage of the trees, which obscured both the kids and the helicopters from sight. But the kids at least had a sense that there were people nearby, and realized that the rangers were still looking for them. They had no idea that the military was involved, and the National Guard had been brought in, since they couldn’t see the men or the helicopters.

It was almost six o’clock, and the rescuers were about to end for the day, when Peter looked straight up between the tall trees and saw a helicopter just above them. He could see the pilot’s face and then the chopper flew away, as all seven kids screamed, but no one could hear them in the noise from the motor. The pilot flew in a circle and his copilot looked at him and asked what he was doing, as he dropped as low as he could over the tall trees.

“I swear, I thought I just saw a boy looking up at me, in a red plaid shirt. Maybe I’m hallucinating and it’s what I wanted to see. I’m trying to get another look.” He was staring down intensely.

“You can’t see shit with all this foliage,” the copilot commented.

But Peter had seen him and so had Justin and Juliet, and Justin had an idea.

“Quick! Everyone! Take off your clothes. Now!”

“Now? Why?” Tim asked. He hadn’t seen it.

“Just give me your shirt…shirts! Everybody!” Juliet pulled hers off without hesitating, and so did the others, and she and Justin tied them together, as long as they could, tying the sleeves to each other until they had a long rope of shirts and sweatshirts in a makeshift flag of sorts, in bright colors. “Go to that rock over there and wave it!” he shouted to Peter, who dragged the rope of shirts onto a high rock and started waving it like a lasso over his head. It snaked up between the trees, just as the helicopter flew overhead. The pilot and copilot saw it flying up through the trees and gave a shout. They could see Peter standing on the rock, using all his strength to wave it aloft. They radioed the other five helicopters, who flew into the area and they circled again and again, and caught glimpses of an arm or a face, and there were shouts going back and forth over the radio to the base.