A Fight to Remember

In the Woods Pt. 2

December 24, 2036

Somewhere on Vancouver Island.

Derek.

It was cold and rainy. I huddled into my parka as about fifty volunteers and paid service workers stared at the map in front of us. "Okay, we've ruled out these three grids, so that leaves A5, A6 and A8. The plane had to have crashed somewhere in those areas."

"Any luck with the chopper?" Mark asked. He'd volunteered to help out on this one.

"Wind's too bad up there... plus it'll be dark soon."

"How much time do we have left?"

"A few hours before the sun sets. We've got about a hundred square miles to cover. No time to waste guys. Stay in your groups, move quickly, shout and use your whistles. Got it people?" Everyone murmured their agreement as we filled out to the trucks to try and get as close to the grids by vehicle as possible.

We filed out, some teams with dogs, others on four by four ATV's. I was on foot with Mark. We entered into Grid A8, our eyes casting about on the horizon. The plane we were looking for was a small one, a little one-engined sessna. A transponder had given off a short signal in this area before it went out dead. If the plane had been bigger it might have been more noticible from the air, but it was too small. We trekked quickly through the woods, looking for any sort of debris that might indicate the plane was near. We were looking for two survivors, a man and a woman.

Every couple hundred yards or so we stopped, surveyed the area and called and whistled to try and get attention. I marked our location on the map and we continued on.

"It's starting to get dark," Mark said. "We should turn back."

I looked up at the sky, it had tinted slightly and the sun was now gently drifting below the hills. "Another half-mile." I said. I felt like I was close to something. So close.

Mark glanced up at the sky. He sighed. "Alright, but quickly. I'm getting cold."

I hefted my pack and we started again. We were making good time as we clambored over a small rock cliff. I stopped, glanced around, and hollered. "HELLO! SEARCH AND RESCUE! CAN YOU HEAR US?" Mark followed it up with three blasts of his whistle.

We waited as I marked off our location on the map and also made a mark on a tree to guide us. After a couple minutes, I shook my head. Nothing. I hated to give up... It's just, I had this feeling... "Okay," I said, "Let's head back, we'll have to try again tomorrow."

"Wait." Mark held up a hand. "Hear that?"

I listened, but didn't hear anything. "No..."

"It's coming from over there-" Mark pointed west and started off in that direction, "SEARCH AND RES- AHH!" Suddenly he disappeared from my peripheral vision.

"Mark!" I called out, stumbling to where he had just been. "Mark!" I said desperately. What happened? Where had he gone? Then I noticed the crevice. Probably two and a half feet wide, he'd fallen into the crevice. He was there. Wedged inside. His pack had saved him, but he was beyond my reach.

"Chris..." He called out shakily.

"It's okay... It's okay, I'll get you out..."

"My leg..."

"You think it's broken?" I asked, knowing how painful that could be.

"Hurts like hell."

"Damn." But I could do this. We could do this. I had to get him out.

Loosen the tourniquet a little bit.

"It's okay, I'll just get the rope..." I said, throwing off my backpack. I rummaged through it, pulling out a twenty-five foot length of rope and a couple carabeeners. I peered over the edge of the crevice again. "It's okay, you'll be okay." I tried to reassure my friend, even though I was terrified.