The Challenge(32)

“Bonanza! We got ’em!” They gave the exact location, and then flew a wider circle for several miles, but they could find nowhere to land. Harvey came onto the radio himself minutes later, with deep emotion in his voice.

“Is there anywhere you can land near them?”

“Not close enough, sir. We’ve got twenty miles of trees here, maybe twenty-five.” And it was almost dark.

“Can you drop some guys in?”

“Negative. They’ll get stuck in the trees. No way in or out from here. We’ll either have to walk in to get them, or they’ll have to walk out to us. It’ll be a long walk for them.” It was getting late. They didn’t know what kind of shape the kids were in. But they had been healthy enough to make a flag and wave it.

“Did you get a head count?”

“No, sir. Just glimpses, faces, arms. They made some kind of flag. They’re in there, and they’re alive. But I can’t give you an accurate count. There are definitely several of them. Maybe all seven, we couldn’t tell.” They were a long way from where the reconnaissance had started. They had traveled many miles, halfway around the mountain, which had brought them closer to the fires. Ash was still falling like snow where they were.

“If you can’t get them out tonight, you need to drop in supplies. They may not have eaten for three days, or had water. And one of them is diabetic. We have a Medipak for him. He needs it now. He’s got an insulin pump, which will give out by tomorrow morning.” Harvey gave orders after that for ground troops and first responders to start walking toward their location, even if it took all night. He wanted them out by morning. He ordered the helicopter pilots to do a drop of supplies. His voice was so powerful, everyone responded to his orders immediately. The parents had heard him and were crying.

“The supplies are liable to get caught in the trees, they’re pretty close together up here,” the pilot told him. It was why they couldn’t drop any men in. They would have either gotten injured or trapped in the branches, and even packages of supplies might not get through.

“Drop as many as you have to. The boy needs the pump, and they all need water and food.” The ground troops and paramedics on each of the helicopters started bundling up the packages to drop out of the helicopters. At least one was bound to land in their hands, or close enough. They were dropping rescue rations of high sustenance food, bottles of water and juice, bandages, splints if they were injured, some Mylar thermal blankets, and an insulin pump for Noel in each package, so he’d get at least one he could use. Ten minutes later, the packages were ready to drop. Each of the helicopters circled the trees as narrowly as they could, and dropped their load, as the supplies rained down on the waiting group below. There were at least a dozen bundles, and then the helicopters flew off. They would be back in the morning. They had put a note in some of the packages explaining the plan, that ground troops were walking in to meet them, and carry them out of the forest if necessary. They only had one last night to wait, and then they were going home. But they hadn’t seen the notes yet. Every single one of the packages that had been dropped sat in the tree branches like Christmas ornaments above their heads. They could easily guess that there was food and water in them, and possibly other things they needed, but they had no way to reach them. They hung in the trees, trapped in the branches. Not a single one of them had reached the ground.



* * *



—

There was pandemonium on the radios, as the helicopters flew back to the base. They had finally located the children. They didn’t know how many had survived—hopefully all. The parents had another night to get through before they would know if their children were safe, and the nightmare was truly over. There was guarded celebration in each of their homes, and only hours left before it would end. They already knew that the ground troops were heading toward the kids up the mountain and would reach them by morning. Then they would know the rest of the story, and who had survived, maybe all of them. They had been located at last, miles from where they started, in an unexpected direction no one had guessed.

The fires were still raging near them, but Harvey was sure they would have them out in a matter of hours, before the flames that were spreading rapidly engulfed the mountain. They couldn’t lose them now, and he didn’t intend to. He dropped in at the Pollocks’ that night and said that they had battled water, fire, and the mountain itself to get to them. It had been the most complicated search and rescue mission they’d ever undertaken. His guess had been right. The kids had moved at surprising speed, and had kept on the move, changing directions and trying different trails, which made it even harder to find them. It was like chasing a target that moved with no particular plan or direction. They had energy, youth, and ingenuity on their side, to their own detriment. It was like chasing a flea, as Harvey put it. It was almost over now. He just needed the winds to slow down enough that night so the fire didn’t get to them before the rescuers did.



* * *



—

All seven of them stood looking up at the trees in dismay, at the silver packages resting on the branches, after the helicopters left. The pilots didn’t know if any of the packages had reached the ground. They needed Noel’s pump, and they were desperate for food and water.

“Someone has to climb the trees, and knock the packages off the branches,” Justin said, counting how many there were: a full dozen. It looked like treasure to them.