Stranded

Chapter Seven

Three days pass. We had gotten another call saying the helicopter for Steve would be arriving today. Now we were just waiting.

I hear the sound of an aircraft slicing through the wind pass over the house. They were finally here.

I jump up, no more like force myself to get up. These past few days we were constantly awake taking care of Steve.

I put on my winter stuff to keep warm; it’s absolutely brutal outside the storm hasn’t calmed down. I thought it would have but it’s still going strong. I shake everyone else awake; they had all been sleeping because it wasn’t their shift to watch over Steve.

“What?” Dustin asks groggily.

“I think the helicopter’s here.” I tell him.

“Really?” Kyle asks disbelievingly

“I’m guessing so, unless it was just my sleep deprived imagination.” I reply. “Shake them again.” I order gesturing to Mitchel and Sidney who had went back to their unconscious state of deep sleep.

“Yes sir.” Kyle replies mock saluting me and grinning like it was hilarious that he just called me a guy.

I roll my eyes at him, if he did that before now I probably would have just glared at him and told him to get a life but now we were kind of friends.

I turn to Dustin and ask, “Can you help me get the stretcher ready?”

“Yes sir.” He mocks.

“Seriously?” I ask, with a hand on one of my hips looking at him expectantly.

“Couldn’t resist.” He replies and I just shake my head at him.

“Let’s go.” I order, “Don’t even think about it.” I warn, Dustin was just about to ‘yes sir’ me again. He had his mouth open to say it just as I cut him off.

“What?” He asks, “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“Suurrrreee.” I say sarcastically, then I turn on my heel and march into the room Steve was in.

I grab a wooden board; it’s what we use to carry him around now. It’s a lot more durable and less flimsy than cardboard. With, Dustin’s help I lift it up next to Steve and we maneuver him onto it. I’m not weak or anything, it’s just awkward to lift the board without someone else’s help because it’s big enough to hold a grown man. Well, I am kind of weak, curse my small size.

We already had handles on hit, Dustin’s work. It was very much like our last stretcher, but you know, better.

I spread a blanket over him and Dustin ties it down with some rope then he grabs one end and I grab the other. We lift him up, shuffle our way through the door and walk down the hallway back to the living room, where everyone was looking somewhat alert.

“Why did you wake us up?” Mitchel asks in a whiny, complaining voice.

“Because you’re lazy and needed to be wakened.” I reply.

“Lazy.” He scoffs, “Have you saw these?” He asks, flexing his biceps.

“What am I supposed to be seeing?” I ask, “There’s nothing there.”

“I think you need to get your eyes checked.” He tells me.

“Please, even with glasses I wouldn’t be able to see anything, I think you need to get your eyes re-checked, yours are making you see things that don’t exist.” I retort.

“Oh they exist.” He replies.

“Mm-hmm.” I say sceptically, “Your arm fat does, no muscle is there once so ever.” I squint at his arms.