The Secret Chamber (17 page)

Luca’s gazed passed from one inselberg to the next, until out by the horizon he could just make out the ground bulging in a series of conical shapes. Traces of smoke hung lazily in the air above each one. These were the volcanoes, all of them active, with occasional spurts of lava spilling over the crater rims.

‘How far do you think they …’ Luca began, when just in front of the plane the air exploded. The noise was incredible, sending massive shock waves shuddering through the plane and splintering the windscreen in long vertical cracks. Luca’s door blew out, hanging limply by its lower hinge as air rushed into the cockpit. He could see the ground open up right beside him, blurred from the distance.

He turned, trying to understand what had just happened.
Everything
went silent, muted by the intense ringing in his ears. The plane pitched upwards, then began to slow. Luca sat for several seconds, transfixed by how slowly they seemed to be moving, until a juddering motion rocked through the plane as the damaged air intakes of the engine began to starve the carburettors of oxygen. After a few muffled coughs the engine died, the propeller jerking to a halt just in front of him.

A sharp, high-pitched whine filled the cockpit, getting louder and louder as the stall warning went off. The noise grew louder still, shrieking, as the plane gradually listed to one side and fell like a deadweight.

Bear grabbed the controls as they dropped in a steep dive. She held the plane level with the rudder, desperately trying to keep them from spinning, while her eyes locked on the air-speed indicator. She watched the needle slowly creep up the dial as they gathered momentum and finally came out of the stall, but with each second that passed they had fallen five hundred feet closer to the ground, with the altimeter spinning full circle.

The ground seemed to fill the entire windscreen, looming up at them as they passed under three hundred feet. Luca could clearly see soldiers running out into the open in front of them, clutching rifles and pointing them towards the sky. They heard the clatter of machine-gun fire, then saw the smoke trail of a rocket-propelled grenade shoot past their starboard wing before exploding somewhere in the air behind them.

‘Shit!’ Bear screamed, as the plane rocked forward from the explosion. ‘They’ve got RPGs.’

‘Get us out of here!’ Luca shouted as she heaved back on the control column, pulling the plane out of the dive. The wingtips became lost in a blur of green and treetops as they skimmed across the canopy, the positive G-force forcing them back in their seats.

Just as they began to claw back some altitude, there was a sharp, metallic hammering against the portside wing. Bear turned to see the entire flap break off, twisting in the wind as it fell back towards the earth. Puncture marks from where the bullets had hit ran right across the underside of the wing in a long, curling trail.

‘The bloody wing just …’ René shouted, eyes fixed on the gaping holes. Bear felt the plane list violently to one side as the damaged wing dragged them round. She jammed on full opposite rudder, levelling out their course, but without the engine they were already starting to lose the speed they had gained in the dive.

Grabbing Luca’s hands, Bear pulled them towards the control column.

‘Just hold this line,’ she said, her voice level over the mic. He looked across at her before reaching forward, his forearms flexing as he squeezed the controls as tight as he could.

Bear grabbed the key with her left hand, checking one magneto, then the other. With her right hand, she pumped the throttle, desperately trying to kickstart the engine back to life. The engine ground round each time she slammed the key across in the ignition, but there was nothing.

Their speed was draining off fast, passing 70, then 60
knots
. Luca instinctively eased back on the controls, trying to pull them further away from the ground.

‘No, no,’ Bear said, reaching forward to steady his hands. ‘We’ll stall again. Angle towards the ground.’

‘But we’re right over the trees.’

‘Just do it.’

Luca pushed forward a little, easing the nose down and trading altitude for speed, while Bear turned the key again and again. There was still nothing from the engine. They could hear the sound of machine-gun fire once more, but it was distant now, almost irrelevant. In only a few seconds, they had flown far beyond the soldiers’ reach and out towards a small tributary of the main river. In the heat of the morning, the brown waters looked placid and heavy.

The plane glided downwards, the speed dropping to 50 knots, then 40. Bear’s hand brushed against Luca’s on the steering column as she took control.

‘We’re going in,’ she whispered. ‘Tighten your belts.’

There was a pause as both René and Luca stared at her, as if not quite understanding what she had said. Then, in a flurry of movement, they grabbed the straps of their seat belts, yanking the webbing as tight as it would go. Luca held on to the handle above the window and wedged his left arm against the dashboard in front.

‘We’ll make it. We’ll make it,’ he repeated. ‘Just land as close as you can to the riverbank.’

‘Holy shit,’ René breathed, his chest rising up and down as he stared past Bear’s shoulder through the cracks in the
windscreen
. The trees rose up to meet them, suddenly looking enormous.

Bear reached forward, switching the transponder to 7800 and checking their position on the GPS.

‘Mayday, Mayday, Mayday,’ she called, her voice flat as she went through the protocol. ‘This is Golf Hotel Juliet. 02.16.52 North 28.13.35 Easting. Engine failure. Three on board in a Cessna 206. Going down in a …’

She broke off, raising her thumb from the comms switch.

‘What’s the use?’ she whispered to herself. ‘No one’s coming.’

The plane silently glided under a massive branch overhanging the river. She watched it pass over the top of them, her head tilting up in disbelief. They were only twenty feet above the water now, the river so close it looked as if it would rise up and touch their wingtips.

‘This is it,’ Luca shouted.

As they both braced themselves against the impact, René’s voice came through on the intercom.

‘Take care of each other,’ he said, then his voice was suddenly drowned by the screech of the stall warning. There was a pause as the plane flared over the surface of the water, almost as if hovering above it, before the weight of the engine swung the nose down, pitching them into the river. The force of the impact smashed their bodies forward, the webbing of the seat belts cutting into their skin as a wall of water engulfed the entire frame of the aircraft. The windows instantly smashed in, the perspex banging against their arms and faces while a tide of brown water surged into the cockpit.

They felt the tailfin rise up behind them, twisting them vertical in their seats and arcing them over in a slow somersault. It crashed down flat against the water with a hollow thump, the momentum of the crash finally subsiding as the plane came to rest on its port side in the water, the cockpit already half-submerged.

Luca opened his eyes and slowly turned his head. He could see Bear’s body pressed against the dashboard with her long hair matted across her cheeks and face. She was totally still. The whole of her seat had somehow broken free from the impact, slamming her body forward and into the controls of the plane.

Luca fumbled with the release clip of his seat belt, his fingers frantically working the metal clasp before finally managing to prise it open. He fell forward into the well of brown water at their feet and tried to steady himself. Water ran down into his eyes and as he raised his hand to wipe it away, he noticed his palm shone red. An open cut above his eye was pumping out blood.

He reached out, wiping back the strands of hair from Bear’s face, leaving a trail of his own blood across her cheek. Her eyes were closed. He put his ear to her mouth, trying to hear her breathe. There was soft moan, then her own hand slowly rose to her shoulder in reflex. Luca saw that the short shaft of the throttle handle had punctured her shoulder just above her left arm. The metal had broken off, and was bulging out through the skin on her back.

Unclipping her seatbelt, Luca took hold of her good shoulder and slowly pulled her back from the controls. Bear’s
mouth
widened into an agonised scream as her damaged shoulder flexed from the motion. She screamed again, her jaw clenching tight, as he heaved her clear of the controls. Her body swung backwards, but her legs remained locked to the seat.

‘Are your legs broken?’ Luca asked, but Bear just stared at him. She looked totally disorientated.

‘You’re … bleeding,’ she whispered, trying to raise her hand to point. ‘There’s blood.’

‘I know. It’s OK. Your legs. Can you move them?’

Bear’s eyelids slowly sank down as she started to drift into unconsciousness. Luca smoothed her hair back from her cheeks.

‘Bear, listen to me,’ he said, raising his voice. ‘Bear, you’ve got to concentrate. Can you feel your legs?’

Her eyes opened again, blinking as she tried to clear her vision. After a moment, she nodded.

‘I can move …’ she breathed, her lips pursing together ‘… move my feet.’

‘OK,’ Luca said. ‘Just stay with me. Stay awake.’

He swung round to check on René. A huge split ran through the roof of the plane just behind the two front seats, flooding the interior with daylight. The splintered edges of the metal were peeled back, allowing water to lap through the lowest part, spilling down into the main part of the cabin. René lay with his head resting to one side, directly under the torn roof. His eyes were closed, the skin around them slack, while his lips were slightly parted beneath his beard. His massive frame was drenched with
water
, the black hair on his chest and arms glistening with moisture.

‘René,’ Luca called, twisting his body through the narrow gap between the front seats.

‘Come on, René,’ he called again, grabbing him by the lapel of his soaking cotton shirt. As he pulled René’s head clear of the side wall it lolled back unnaturally, the weight unsupported by his neck. Luca let go in shock, staring in horror.

‘No … no,’ he breathed, feeling the panic rise inside him. He jabbed two fingers into the base of René’s throat, feeling for a pulse, pressing down hard against the soft flesh by the side of his Adam’s apple. He forced himself to stay absolutely still, his senses straining for the faintest beat or twitch. There was nothing.

‘Come on, René’ Luca suddenly shouted, the sound of his voice reverberating around the tiny cockpit. ‘Come on!’

Luca pressed lower on his friend’s neck, waited a few seconds, then moved his fingers higher again, searching in vain for a pulse. He could feel the heat of René’s body, the skin still clammy and glowing with sweat. He gently tilted the head forward and saw a deep-set bruise running all the way from his left shoulder blade up into the line of his hair. The skin was waxy and dull, bruised black at the centre and fading to a dull purple with blotched yellow patches lower down. Whatever had ripped through the wall of the plane had snapped Rene’s neck with such force that it had nearly decapitated him.

Luca took René’s cheeks in the palms of his hands,
willing
his friend’s eyes to open, for his chest to rise and fall, for everything to be as it was. It was impossible for him to be gone, to die like this in the middle of a godforsaken jungle in Africa. René was a bear of a man; indestructible. He swore irreverently at every living, breathing thing and could make jokes when all seemed lost. How could this possibly have happened?

Luca felt a surge of heat rise up his throat and into his temples. His vision started to fade to black towards the edges. He widened his stance to try to keep his balance, but then suddenly gagged, convulsing at the unexpected reflex. Shutting his eyes, he let the tears stream down his face while the huge store of emotion, dulled and suppressed by those endless months in the Himalayas, came flooding out of him.

‘Not this,’ he gasped. ‘Anything but this.’

‘Luca!’

He stayed motionless, staring down into his friend’s face.

‘Luca!’ Bear’s voice was louder, a shrill scream that made him turn towards her. ‘The water’s getting worse. We’re sinking.’

The angle of the plane had changed and now water streamed into the cockpit through the broken windows. Torrents of brown river water poured in, weighing down the front of the plane and plunging it further beneath the surface. Luca turned, pushing his way back to Bear, and saw that the water level was already past her waist and steadily rising up the line of her stomach. He sniffed, wiping one arm across his eyes as he tried to focus. They had to get out.

‘Over there,’ she said, motioning towards the broken door.
It
was already peeled back on one hinge, facing down into the depths of the river. The water flooding through the gap was opaque and foreboding.

‘What about yours?’ Luca asked.

‘Jammed.’

Bear rocked forward in her seat, wincing at the pain from her shoulder. She tried to pull herself out of the seat using her one good arm, but her legs were trapped by something below the waterline. Luca fumbled with the back of his belt, looking for the survival knife which was hooked into the leather. He drew out the dull blade with its serrated edge.