Page 42 of Deep Waters
Chapter 18 – Rae
Hana came bouncing into my bedroom, full of energy.
“Morning, Rae,” she chirped. Eyes half closed, I smiled at her, still hazy with sleep. “Good morning, Zach.”
I froze, memories flooding back. At least I’d pulled my pajamas back on. Hana took Zach’s presence in my bed in stride. “Will you make pancakes for breakfast? I want mine with chocolate chips.”
“Sure, sunshine,” Zach rumbled from behind me. All I wanted was to snuggle back into his arms. Sometime in the night, we’d rolled apart. Instead of getting a quiet moment to collect ourselves and start the day, we had an audience.
My phone beeped with an incoming text message using the custom sound I’d designated for SAR alerts. Somewhere on the floor, probably with his pants, Zach’s phone buzzed.
“From SAR dispatch: Downed light aircraft near South Beach. Rescue coordination at American Camp ranger station. Possible high angle rescue.”
Pulling the covers over my head, pretending I hadn’t seen the text, was tempting. For a moment. But we were too isolated from other help. We needed to have each other’s backs when something went wrong. If I could find someone to watch the kids, I’d go. I didn’t haveto ask if Zach would answer the call, he was already tugging on his pants.
“Sorry Hana-banana. That text means we’ll have to make pancakes another time. Aunt Rae and I need to go help if we can.” His eyes softened as he turned to me. “As much as I wish I could stay right here, duty calls. Do you want me to call Gran to come stay with the kids?”
“What about your mom?” I asked.
“She and dad have a ferry reservation to Anacortes today. He has doctor’s appointments in Bellingham later.”
Gran would do it, and the kids were already comfortable with her. My other options were Vi or Anya, but they’d both take longer to arrive.
“That’d be great, thanks. You can go ahead, and I’ll wait for her.”
In minutes, we were sorted. I’d pulled on my SAR shirt and pants, grabbing a protein bar and a bottle of water. I woke Tae, so he wouldn’t come downstairs and find us both gone.
Zach dropped a kiss on my forehead and grabbed his keys, sketching a quick salute at the door. “I’ll see you at the ranger station.”
Gran barreled up in her truck a few minutes later, her tires spitting gravel as she drew to a stop. She hopped from the cab, striding for the front door like a woman on a mission.
“Thanks for coming.” I added a tight smile. Grateful as I was, I couldn’t make a real one happen, aware that a life or multiple lives might depend on me getting to American Camp quickly.
“Go. We’ll be fine. I promise only to give them sugar and caffeine. Probably get them a puppy if they’re real good. I’ll keep the rest of my vices to myself.”
“Thanks.”
“Good luck.”
I made it to the American Camp base in record time. The sheriff and Clay Robertson, one of the local park rangers, had command.
Sheriff Eric Walker looked up from his map. “Good. Rae, you’re here. The fire department has a boat on the way, but we’re sending ground resources toward the beach.”
“Any details on what we’ll find?”
“A small Beachwood out of Victoria carrying two adult passengers had engine problems. Pilot tried to glide in without landing gear, but it wasn’t pretty. Most of the team has already assembled. I’m sending coordinates to your phone.”
“Got it.”
I grabbed a pack and hustled down the trail toward the coordinates he sent. Plane traffic in and out of the San Juan Islands was common. Crashing, not so much. But equipment malfunction could happen to anyone. At least this pilot had made it to land. Hopefully, that was a good thing. For water “landings,” they called out the Navy search and rescue support team out of Whidbey Island. The military had helicopters and more resources than a tiny island like ours could manage.
SAR volunteers for San Juan County trained on a variety of rescues, including high angle. We had too many cliffs and inaccessible spots not to. Luckily, most hikers stuck to the rivers and the lakes they were used to, avoiding tumbles over the cliffs. But we spent a few days practicing with ropes and rescue systems every year, just in case.
I picked my way along the trail, long grasses snagging at my pants as I wound along the cliff toward the crash site. In the distance, I could see a cluster of figures. They were setting up the master attachment and rigging the litter with the basket stretcher. We’d use a belay and pulley system with attendants to guide the litter with the victim back to safety.
I could only hope it really was a rescue, not a recovery.
Zach was geared-up in his harness and hard hat when I reached the crew. One glance over the edge confirmed the coordinates. A small plane lay crumpled at the base of the cliff, waves lapping at the tail. Two figures were barely visible through the glass, both slumped in the cockpit.
