Chapter Twenty-Five
Never had time passed so slowly. Never had the journey seemed so very long or the outback so incredibly vast. Or so lonely. The blood red earth rolling beneath the plane seemed endless. She wished the journey was over. And she wished time would stand still. She wished that journalist had never come to Coorah Creek. And most of all she wished she had been honest with Adam from the very start.
It was no good wishing for things she could never have. And she would never have Adam’s respect or friendship or …
She tried not to even think the word. Even to think the word would be to define exactly what she had lost. The thing that she wanted more than anything else in the world. Adam’s love. She wanted – needed – Adam as much as this plane she loved needed to fly. An aeroplane that didn’t fly was a lost and broken thing – without purpose or beauty. Without Adam – what was she? Without Adam she might become what the newspapers had accused her of being – heartless and cold. Beautiful on the outside perhaps, but dead inside.
It was more than she could stand. Something deep inside her cried out in pain at the thought. Her breath caught in her throat … and she felt the silent emptiness of the outback invade her soul. For the first time in her life, being a pilot and flying her plane meant nothing to her. She just wanted this flight to be over.
The port side engine missed a beat.
Instantly Jessica’s every sense was focused on her aeroplane.
Her eyes checked her instruments. There was nothing wrong. She checked the skies about her. They were clear. Through the soles of her feet she could feel the rhythm of the propellers. The engine noise was a steady hum. Everything was as it should be, but her instinct told her there was something wrong.
For an eternity, everything seemed normal. Jessica listened to every beat of the engines. Every noise of the wind. Her fingers held her controls lightly, ready to sense the slightest change. She was beginning to think she must have been mistaken, when the port engine missed another beat. Then another.
Jess checked her fuel gauges. Both tanks were reading three quarters full.
The steady hum of the engines had resumed, but Jess knew now that something was very wrong.
A minute or two later, the port engine misfired loudly. This time her passengers noticed.
‘Jess?’ Sister Luke called from her seat in the cabin. ‘Is everything all right?’ She sounded a little frightened.
Jess was about to offer reassurance when the starboard engine also missed a beat. It was pointless trying to reassure her passengers. Sister Luke had every reason to be frightened.
‘Jess?’ Adam slipped into the co-pilot’s seat, any tension between them forgotten in the face of a terrible new dread.
‘Houston, we’ve got a problem,’ Jess said.
‘What is it?’
‘I’m not sure. I refuelled back there. If the fuel was dirty or water had seeped into the drum …’
‘Is that why the engine is miss—’
His words were drowned out by another loud bang, and the starboard engine died completely.
‘Damn it!’ Jess exclaimed. ‘We’re in trouble now.’
She reached for the controls, her training taking over from conscious thought. She feathered the prop and it slowly stopped spinning.
‘Sister Luke,’ she called without turning her head. ‘Make sure you are well strapped in. This is going to get rough. You too,’ she added to Adam.
The metallic click of his seat belt locking closed was drowned out by the explosive sound of the port engine as it flamed out.
An eerie silence settled around them, broken only by the sound of rushing air.
‘I’m going to try to restart the engines,’ Jess said loudly to both her passengers. ‘Brace yourselves.’
She didn’t have time to panic. Or even wonder if the restart would work. Her training took over as she worked her way down the checklist. This was not the routine that had always given her such reassurance when she flew. This was a different checklist altogether – and there was very small comfort in it.
Power lever – on idle.
Fuel firewall valve – open.
Ignition … she glanced at the glowing red light. On.
Generator – on.
Engine auto-ignition – armed.
‘Jess …’ Adam’s voice betrayed no sign of the fear he must be feeling.
He should be afraid. She was.
She turned the radio to the emergency frequency. ‘Get on the radio,’ she told Adam. ‘We need to send a mayday.’
Jess hit the starter. Both engines responded, and for one brief moment she thought they were all right, but the engines spluttered a couple of times then fell silent. She glanced at her altitude indicator. They were at twelve thousand feet. Her airspeed was just one hundred and thirty knots. If she wanted to try an air start, she had to make that decision now.
‘Mayday. Mayday.’ Adam spoke beside her. She glanced at him. His face was worried, but calm. There was no panic in his eyes. He was a good man to have beside you in an emergency. ‘This is Goongalla Air Ambulance. We’re …’ He stopped and turned to Jess. ‘What do I tell them?’
‘Say Beechcraft King Air has lost both engines. Passing through twelve thousand feet. We are five hundred kilometres south-west of Mount Isa. Three POB. That’s people on board,’ she added quickly in response to his frown. ‘Pause for a few seconds after that and hope someone responds. If they don’t, do it again. Just keep doing it.’
She mentally called up another of the checklists she had memorised so carefully during her training.
Propellers – full forward.
Fuel valve – open.
She didn’t think this was going to work, but she had to try it. She knew that behind her, in the cabin, Sister Luke would have her hands clasped on the wooden cross she wore and would be praying. Jess hoped someone was listening.
‘Mayday. Goongalla Air Ambulance. We have lost …’ beside her Adam’s voice droned on. Controlled and clear.
These two lives were in her hands now. Her own too.
She dropped the nose of the plane, losing valuable height in an effort to pick up airspeed. The propellers were turning now, she waited … waited … and hit the starter.
Nothing.
She carefully raised the nose of the plane. She needed every foot of height she could get.
‘Adam,’ she said, ‘add that we are going to make an emergency landing.’
She felt him tense beside her.
‘Where?’
‘Anywhere I can find that’s flat and clear. I don’t suppose you know of any properties around here with airstrips?’
‘Not unless we go back to Clifton Downs.’
Jess shook her head. ‘We’d never make it. And I’d rather not turn – we’d lose a lot of height.’
‘Then what are you going to do?’
‘We are going to start looking for some clear flat land.’
She turned to look at him. Without the drone of the engines, it was eerily quiet in the cockpit. His eyes met hers and all that had passed since the morning seemed to just disappear in the face of their danger. There was so much Jess wanted to say. Right now, all the secrets between them and all the reasons for keeping those secrets seemed so foolish. If only she could turn back time …
But that wasn’t going to happen. In a few minutes, she was going to have to put this aircraft down. Without engines. Without an airstrip. With nothing but her skill. The last thing she needed was to let her feelings for Adam stop her from doing her job.
‘Look around us,’ she said, dragging her eyes away from him towards her own window. ‘We need some flat land. A bit of an uphill slope won’t hurt. No trees. No big rocks either. And keep sending that mayday,’ she said.
‘What if no one hears us?’
‘Just keep sending it.’ Jess turned away from the window and glanced towards the back of the plane. Sister Luke was sitting, her eyes shut and her lips moving in prayer. ‘Sister Luke.’
The nun’s eyes snapped open. Her face was pale, but she was in control of her fear. ‘Jess?’
‘We are going to have to make an emergency landing. I need you to make sure there is nothing loose in the cabin. Fasten all the seat belts. Make sure everything is stowed in the lockers. I don’t want anything flying around the plane.’
‘Very well.’
‘Then get yourself strapped in nice and tight … and Sister Luke?’
‘Yes?’
‘If you can keep praying while you do all that, I’d be very grateful.’
Sister Luke almost smiled. ‘You don’t have to worry about that. I’m way ahead of you.’
Jess glanced at her instrument panel. She had to set for best glide. Her landing gear was already up. She adjusted the wing flaps and feathered both propellers. They slowed and stopped … useless now.
She allowed herself one quick glance at Adam. He was still making the mayday call, but his eyes were fixed on the window beside him, searching the ground for some safe place to land. She needed to do the same. She dragged her eyes away and looked out of the window.
The land below them was parched and dry. Jess decided that was a blessing because there were very few real trees, just low scrubby bush. But the wind, torrential rains and flash floods of the outback had carved deep gouges in the earth, limiting the amount of really flat land. And what flat land there was would be well littered with rock and stone. For a few seconds she thought of turning west. The desert sand would make a softer landing. There might even be a salt pan between the dunes. But that route would take them further from their expected flight path. The rescue planes might not look there. It was a tough call and the plane was losing height fast.
‘Jess … what about that?’ Adam indicated a patch of ground to their right. Jess strained to look.
‘It looks clear – maybe even sandy,’ Adam said.
He was right. Some freak of wind had deposited a long wide drift of wind-blown desert sand along the base of a steep ridge. There wasn’t a lot of it – but there might be enough. The sand would help slow the plane once they touched down. With only a handbrake and flaps, she was going to need a lot of room to stop. Or some help.
The problem was, to reach that landing site, she’d have to turn. Turning the plane meant losing height; and she didn’t have any height to spare. If she turned and then found the site wasn’t suitable, she wouldn’t have any options left.
She didn’t have a lot of options now.
‘Adam. Get down to the back of the plane. Strap yourself in.’
‘No. I’ll stay here with you.’ His voice was firm.
She didn’t have time to think why he wanted to stay with her. ‘It’s safer in the back. Go.’
Adam shook his head and once more repeated the mayday call. Jess reached out and took the handset away from him.
‘You’ve done everything you can. We are going down. Get back there and make sure everything is locked down tight. Make sure Sister Luke is strapped in. Once we stop moving, I want you to get Sister Luke out of the plane. The tanks are still full of fuel. The electrics are off – so the chance of an explosion is small. But after we’re down, if the tanks have ruptured, just one spark …’
She saw it then – the first flash of fear in his eyes. Fire! The thought of flames did to him what the idea of a crash landing could not. She could almost feel his flesh tighten in anticipation of the pain. She wished now she had said something about the scars on his body. Maybe she could have said or done something that would take that look from his eyes. Make it easier for him to face what might lie ahead. But it was too late now.
‘I need to know you are both prepared for this,’ she said quietly. ‘And I need to know you will look after Sister Luke.’
Jess could feel the turmoil inside Adam and for a few seconds her feelings for him blotted out her pilot’s instincts. She reached out one hand and gently touched his arm. This time he didn’t push her away. Their eyes locked for a moment, then Adam nodded abruptly and climbed out of the co-pilot’s seat.
Sister Luke’s eyes were shut. Her normally serene face was too pale as her lips moved in prayer. The fine-boned hands clutching her wooden cross were white. Adam’s heart clenched with concern for her. He dropped into a crouch beside her seat.
‘Sister Luke?’
When she opened her eyes, she frowned. ‘Adam? What are you doing? You should be strapped in.’
As if to accentuate her words, the plane began to bank quite sharply. As it did, it also started to drop. Adam grabbed the arm of the seat opposite Sister Luke and dragged himself in. He pulled the seat belt tight.
‘Jess says that as soon as the plane has come to a stop, we have to get out. There’s a lot of fuel in the tanks … and …’ his voice trailed off as the familiar fear tightened his throat. Not fear of dying. Fear of feeling the flames licking his skin. Fear of the terrible pain. Fear that he would want to die.
‘Adam.’ Sister Luke’s voice was soft. ‘I confess that I am terribly afraid. Would you hold my hand?’
No one knew better than Sister Luke how he hated to be touched. She was the one who changed his bandages all those years ago. She knew the pain the gentlest touch had caused him then. She knew how hard it was for him to accept such a touch now. She held out her hand towards him. It was shaking. Adam reached out and enclosed her hand in his larger, stronger one. He was appalled at how frail she suddenly seemed.
‘Jess will take care of us,’ he said. ‘Trust her.’
‘I do.’
Adam looked towards the front of the plane. Jessica’s body was taut with concentration, her head held high. He suddenly had an overwhelming feeling that he had left something important unsaid. And now, maybe he’d never get the chance to say it.
‘Brace yourselves,’ Jess called, without turning her head.
Adam looked out of the window. The rocky red earth was racing up to meet them. They were going too fast! And where was the sand? If the plane dropped among those rocks it would be torn apart. And them with it.
He felt Sister Luke’s fingers tighten around his. There was a flash of yellow sand beneath them and then the plane met the earth with a jarring thud. He heard Sister Luke cry out in pain. Then his whole world became a nightmare of noise and pain, the sound of tearing metal and the smell of hot fuel.