Romeo
W ilson drove at what he considered to be unsafe speeds on the gravel road down the little incline towards the Iowa River area where the river overflow drainage pits were located. They were there, alright. Six of them spread over a half mile. They got to the foot path that led to the first one. Jackson launched the drone.
“I hope she has enough body heat left to register on it,” Sherman said as the four men hiked towards the first pit, following the drone that zoomed ahead of them. Wilson had a rappelling line looped over his shoulder.
“I hope she has a light-colored coat to make her easily seen,” Jackson said. This would aid in rescuing her or recovering her body.
Wilson wished he knew what color coat she had. He didn’t.
The drone reached the first pit and broadcast an image of an empty pit. No heat signatures, nothing discernible as a human. They’d just reached the turn off in the trail to pit number two. “I’ll send it over pit number two,” Jackson said. “I think someone should still take the time to check out pit number one, just to be sure there’s nothing up against the walls that would be undetectable and to be sure no ground has been disturbed.”
“I’ve got it,” Sherman said. He immediately veered off towards pit one.
Wilson watched his flashlight beam flicker ahead of him on the trees for a second before he veered towards pit number two. If she’d been buried in the floor of the pit, would the Birdman be able to see it from the rim of the hole? He pushed that thought from his brain and pushed on.
The drone reached pit number two. The images it sent were the same. No heat signatures in or near the hole, nothing that looked like a human being in the hole. The men stopped where they were and sent the drone over pit number three, several hundred feet further up the trail than pit number two. Pits number four through six were accessible further up the gravel road where it dead ended.
“Nothing in pit number one,” Sherman reported through comms. “I’m heading back your way. If anyone was in the pit, it would be seen on the drone. Honestly, I can’t tell from the height of the rim if the bottom ground has been disturbed. If we don’t find her in the six pits, I think that would be a secondary search of the pits from inside of them or in daylight,” he said.
“Roger that,” Wilson said.
When the drone arrived and hovered over pit number three, Wilson’s eyes were glued to the tablet, along with Jackson’s. Nothing.
“Let’s get back to the car and drive to the next set of pits,” Jackson said, already turning around to hike back.
“Yeah,” Wilson agreed. He transmitted to Sherman to meet them back at the car.
They drove up the winding gravel road until it dead ended. Pit number four was in front of them. No need to launch the drone on it. Wilson and Sherman walked up the uneven ground to it as Jackson launched the drone towards pit number five. Wilson noticed how the ground seemed disturbed as they neared the edge. He was filled with hope this was the place.
He shined his flashlight down into the pit. “Reina! You there?” he called as he circled the light. About three quarters of the way around the circle, the beam found a still figure seated with its side against the wall all hunched up and huddled into itself, hood up on the black jacket that was pulled over its knees. “Reina!” he called again.
He handed the bulk of the rope to Sherman as he donned his MoG Gloves so he could fast-rope down. “She’s here!” he yelled to Jackson and Sloan, who stood near the car.
“Someone’s here,” Sherman corrected him as he wound the rope around himself to provide counterweight, making himself the anchor for Wilson to pull against as he fast-roped down. “Can’t see who it is.”
Both men ran towards Wilson and Sherman. They each grabbed the rope to help provide enough anchor weight. With a tight rope between him and his team, Wilson turned to face the steel lining of the hole. Swinging out far enough for his body to stay off the wall would be a challenge. Ten feet wasn’t far, didn’t give him long to remain off the wall before he had to slow down. He tossed the line out about three feet and immediately leaped off the wall, jumping out as far as he could.
He dropped as fast as the rope he’d thrown and swung towards the wall as he descended. He gripped hard, slowing his descent, and put his legs out so his feet would impact the wall. Then he put his feet beneath him and on the ground. Success. He’d gotten down there without face-planting into the side of the steel wall.
“I’m down,” he yelled up towards the team, forgetting that his comms would transmit it if he switched it to transmit. They all peered over the edge with the beams from their flashlights lighting the hole. He approached the still figure. As he approached, he saw it wasn’t still. It shivered. Thank God. “Rae?” He dropped to a knee beside the black-coated figure and raised the hood. Wilson wrapped his arms around her. Relief surged through him. “It’s her!” he yelled up to the team. “Rae, talk to me,” he prompted, his voice softer. He noticed how cold she felt. “Are you okay, Rae?” he asked, becoming very concerned. Then he reluctantly released her, just long enough to open his backpack and get out his emergency blanket. She was freezing cold. He had to start the warming process even before they got her out of the hole.
Reina was sure Jimmy beside her had to be an illusion, as a bright unearthly light from above surrounded him. Had she finally slipped into unconsciousness and was dreaming? Or worse, had the cold killed her, and this was what happened when you crossed to the other side? She’d heard stories of people going into the light after they’d died.
She’d kept herself awake for the most part of the last two days since Blake had pushed her into this hole. She paced, did jumping jacks, anything to keep moving to stave off the hypothermia she knew was imminent. She’d foolishly tried to climb out of the hole several times, which brought new sore spots on her body when she fell from the bad hold the metal wall offered.
She’d cried, allowing self-pity to overwhelm her and then talked herself out of the mindset that she was going to die. An adamant refusal to accept this was how she’d go out. She’d survived so much already in her life. This was not how it would end. Then the despair of being cold, alone, thirsty, hungry, and afraid would creep back in and she’d go through the range of emotions again, an endless cycle of thoughts.
She knew she had allowed herself to doze. She’d been exhausted. She’d crouched down and pulled the coat over her knees; thankful she had a large jacket. Balling herself up had helped her retained some warmth. If she wasn’t dead, maybe she was asleep.
“Rae?” Wilson asked when she didn’t speak. He now had her wrapped in the blanket, and he held her to his chest once again.
She felt his hand caress her cheek. He’d removed his glove. His hand was so warm. She pressed herself more firmly against him. Her arms were inside of her jacket, folded up tightly against her chest. She nodded. Her throat was parched from all the yelling for help she’d done. She wasn’t sure if she could speak.
He angled her chin so he could look her in the eye. “You’re safe.”
She nodded again, wide eyed and frightened. “Water,” her hoarse voice croaked out.
Wilson grabbed his bottle of water from his backpack and brought it to her lips. She gulped it down. He looked around and saw no bottle of water, no food. She’d been without food or water for at least twenty-four hours. He wondered how long it had been since she ate or drank anything?
“How is she?” Sloan’s voice came through his comms.
“Cold, shivering, but conscious,” he said after he’d switched his comms to transmit.
“Let’s get her up so I can take a look at her,” Sloan said.
“Can you move the car close enough to tie off to? I’m going to have to walk her up the wall and would like an assist.”
“You gonna fashion a harness with the end of the rope?” Sloan asked.
“Yeah, will tie us both in,” Wilson replied.
“Negative, can’t get the car close enough, but you’ve got the three of us as anchors. We’ll step back to assist as much as we safely can,” Jackson offered.
“Affirmative,” Wilson acknowledged. He knew it wouldn’t be easy. Going up without proper rappelling gear was a hundred times harder than going down. It required brute strength and some technique. It was hard on the body. “Rae, are you injured anyplace I should know about?”
“My right shoulder and hip hurt, and I have a lump from where I was hit on the back of my head,” she said.
“God, I’m sorry we couldn’t find you any faster than we did,” he said and then kissed her forehead.
New tears filled Reina’s eyes. “You found me. I don’t know how you did, but you did.”
“Shh, shh, please don’t cry,” he whispered while kissing her again, her forehead, her cheeks, and then he pressed his lips to hers. “Thank God we found you.” He held her close again for a moment. “Do you think you can walk? I’m going to get you out of here, over there by the wall. It’s the best spot up top to do it.”
With his help, she pulled her knees from inside the coat. She was stiff.
“Where’re your arms?” He hadn’t noticed the sleeves were empty when he found her or wrapped the blanket around her. Then he realized where they were. “Inside your coat, that’s brilliant. But here, let’s poke them back into the sleeves. I need you to hold on to me if you can when we ascend.”
He helped her to her feet and then helped her walk to where the rope dangled. She was wobbly on her feet and very stiff. He wrapped the blanket around her and sat her beside him as he wrapped and looped the end of the rope, creating a harness. He wrapped it around himself just so, around one leg, looped over the opposite shoulder, back around his waist, through his legs again and up over the other shoulder. He tied it off. “Weight check on me alone,” he transmitted. His gaze flickered to the top of the hole. There were no longer any flashlight beams pointed downward. There was only one lying beside the rope. Then he sat back on the harness with his full weight.
“Successful test,” Jackson’s voice replied. “Good to go with her weight.”
Wilson then helped her to her feet and maneuvered her, so she faced him and then he fed her legs over his and over the top of the ropes so she straddled him and laid on him, her head on his shoulder, her arms around his neck. “I need you to try to hold on, Rae,” he said. The blanket around her shouldn’t interfere with her holding on.
“I will,” she said, her voice still sounding hoarse.
“Added weight test successful. Start your climb, nice and slow,” Jackson’s voice said.
“Roger that,” Wilson advised. He reported each step he took and gave them verbal direction on the speed with which they took up the rope every step of the way, be it just right, too slow, or too fast.
When he neared the top of the hole, he felt relief. His muscles were screaming in fatigue. Where the rope was wrapped around him, even through his coat and clothing, his skin felt seared from the friction of the rope digging into his body.
“I see your head, Taco, nice and slow as you transfer your foot hold from vertical to horizontal,” Sherman, who was man number one on the rope, counseled.
“Okay, ready to transfer direction. Give me one good pull on three,” Wilson said. Then he counted. “One, two, three, now!”
He’d been teetering on the edge, one foot vertical, one on the horizontal ground, his weight leaning over the hole. The extra little pull propelled him the rest of the way up. He transferred his weight and Rae’s forward and then stumbled a step or two before he got both feet beneath him on the solid ground. Successful and a few steps forward of the hole, he dropped to his knees. By the time he lowered her to the ground in front of him, the team had rushed forward.
“Get her into the car where it’s warm,” Wilson said with a ragged, breathless voice. “Undertaker, she’s probably going to need fluids. There was nothing down there, no bottles or food wrappers.”
Jackson scooped her up, and he rushed her to the backseat of the car. He laid her on the seat and then Sloan crowded in. Jackson went to the front seat and started the car, turning the heat to hot and the fan on high. Meanwhile, Sherman helped free Wilson from the mock harness he’d crafted.
By the time Wilson got to the car, entering on the opposite side of Sloan, the inside felt toasty. Sloan had a second blanket around her. Wilson slid her upright slightly, resting her head and shoulders across his thighs. “Rae, I’m not sure if you remember Sloan. He was on the plane back from Norfolk. He’s a team medic.” Then he turned his attention to Sloan. “She’s freezing and her voice was hoarse. I gave her some water.”
Reina stared at the man, vaguely remembering him. He’d checked her shoulder on the plane and gave her a couple pain pills to swallow.
“Hi Rae,” Sloan said. “How do you feel?”
“Not sure,” her voice squeaked. “Better now that I’m up here.”
“You have to feel pretty weak,” Sloan said.
She nodded that was the case. Wilson offered her more water. She finished the bottle before she spoke again. “Lilly’s at a farmhouse. I might be able to get you there from the interstate.”
“The white farmhouse in the middle of nowhere where you were kept and drew the picture of the carousel?” Wilson asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“Been there. They moved her,” Wilson said.
“I’m sure you’re dehydrated and hypothermic,” Sloan said. “We need to get you to the hospital.”
“No hospital,” Reina argued. “We have to find Lilly.”
“We’ll find her,” Wilson assured her. “Sloan, can’t you give her fluids? I know you carry them.”
“She needs the fluids heated. Her body temp is already too low, and the fluids will make her colder,” Sloan said. “And they can wrap her in heated blankets at the hospital. Her heart needs to be monitored, and bloodwork needs to be done to assess her organs like her kidneys, liver, and pancreas.”
“No hospital,” Reina repeated more forcefully.
“Rae, you’ve been exposed to the cold for at least two days and are severely dehydrated. You need to be observed for the next twelve to twenty-four hours,” Sloan said.
“No hospital,” she repeated for a third time.
“Can’t you observe her while you give her fluids and warm her, Sloan?” Wilson pressed. “I can take a shift watching her too.”
Sloan shook his head. “Yeah, maybe. Rae, do you have any heart history, any known issues with any of your organs?”
She shook her head.
“Okay, we’ll give it a try but if at any point I really think you need to go to the hospital I won’t take no for an answer,” Sloan said. He’d run a few checks of her vitals. Her blood pressure was low, which was expected. Other than that, her heart sounded strong, and he didn’t detect any breathing issues.
“Thank you,” Wilson said, a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m serious, if there are any indicators she isn’t bouncing back fast enough or if she’s tanking, she goes to the hospital,” he said firmly.
Sherman and Jackson entered the car with their gear. “I notified Lambchop and Ops that we found her,” Jackson said. He sat behind the wheel. “Where to?”
“Where’s Lambchop and Mother at with Van Sloot?” Wilson asked.
“About to hand him over to authorities. Lambchop says he’s been quite talkative,” Jackson said. “Even gave them the deets on a second car Blake Henning and Stella Adams left in with Lilly. He claims they’re headed to the Chicago area for a few days and then are supposed to be back out at that farmhouse. There’s already an APB on it from here to Chicago. The Digital Team is already working the traffic cameras along the route.”
Reina listened to the man in the front seat, struggling to stay awake. “Blake pushed me into that hole,” she said. “There was another man there. He hit me in the head with something, a gun I think.”
“Where was Stella during this? That’s Ashley Carona’s real name, Stella Adams,” Wilson said.
“Yeah, she’s not a nice person, a criminal from the sounds of it,” Rae said. “She wasn’t there. She left Lilly alone locked in a room with that second man guarding her, scum bag.”
“Stella or that man?” Sloan asked.
“Both,” Reina said. “Lilly is going to be scarred from this experience. I don’t know how that woman could do this to any child.”
She felt Jimmy’s caress over her face again. His touch was comforting. The car was warm, and she already felt warmer than she had in a couple of days. But she was exhausted. All she wanted to do was go to sleep. At some point as they drove, she let go and allowed herself to drift into a deep slumber.