Unbreakable (7 page)

Sheriff Ted Carter was quoted saying, “On behalf of Jasper County, I offer my sincere condolences to the family and friends of the individuals who lost their lives today. As we continue to monitor the situation, our thoughts and prayers are with the loved ones of those who were on board.”

More updates will be made when available.

 

Oct. 31, 4:45 p.m.

Had these men really said his family was dead? Chase let his head fall back down. No, he couldn't accept that. Couldn't believe they were gone. He fought to keep his eyes open, wanting to ask again—to beg them to be wrong. To save his family. The two men appeared over him. He tried to open his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Black spots, like fireworks, started popping off in his vision. He couldn't make out their faces, but he saw their shapes.

Then he saw … he saw their eyes. Glowing. Bright lime green. What the hell was wrong with his vision?

One of the men crouched down beside him, the snow crunching beneath the heels of his shoes. It was the guy in the lab coat. Chase couldn't make out his face, but he saw his eyes, still glowing, and the white coat.

“Damn it,” the man said, looking up at the guy wearing black who stood over Chase. “He's a carrier. Did we bring gloves?”

“No,” the other man said.

The dizziness had Chase closing his eyes, but he listened. Their voices were distant—as if on a radio in another room. He tried to pick up his right arm, but couldn't.

“We're here, kid,” one of them said and Chase felt his body shift slightly as if someone was moving the snow from around him. “Damn it. If I touch him I risk activating the virus. He's in bad shape. He wouldn't be able to survive the turn.”

“I disagree,” the deeper voice said. “It's his only chance to survive.”

“He's too weak. It'll kill him,” the other voice argued.

“Probably, but he's dying anyway. Turn him and at least he has a chance. It might not be much of one, but it's the best shot he has.”

He was dying. He thought hearing it would have caused him to react. He didn't. He thought of the light tunnel where he'd seen his family. He wanted to go there.

Chase opened his eyes to tell them it was okay. He couldn't speak but he stared at the blurry figures. One of the men passed something to the other.

Chase blinked the ice from his lashes and saw the man in the white lab coat holding a knife. Chase's heart thumped once in fear. Then he watched as the man turned the knife on himself. He put the knife to his palm and gripped it. Blood, one drop at a time, dripped from his clenched fist.

Chase didn't react to it because somehow it didn't seem to matter. He was dying and he was going to go to the light.

As Chase stared, the guy dropped the knife in the snow. Then he pressed his bleeding palm to Chase's arm, to an open wound he had there. The touch wasn't nearly as warm as he'd thought it would be. Then suddenly it was. It was so warm it stung.

“Hot,” he tried to say, but wasn't sure he'd managed it.

A burning sensation started flowing inside him. He heard himself moan.

“Come on, kid. Hang in there. I owe your dad that much.”

Chase choked on his next intake of air.

“Damn it! Don't you die on me!”

Die on me. Die on me. Die on me.

The words echoed in his head and he saw the light again. Peaceful, pure, bright but somehow soft. It didn't hurt to look at it. As a matter of fact it was beautiful.

All of a sudden his dad and mom appeared beside him. “No,” his mom said. “Go back.”

“Live, son,” his dad said. “Live for us.”

“I don't want to,” he said. “I … I don't want to be alone.”

“Take him back, damn it!” his father roared, staring back into the tunnel of light as if someone else was there. “Please, it's not fair.”

Something started pulling him away again. “No,” he begged. “I like it here.”

He stopped moving. He heard the bark again. Baxter.

Turning in circles, he looked for his dog. “Come here, boy. Come here.”

“Chase?”

The fine voice had him swinging back around.

Tami.

She looked even more beautiful than he remembered. Her dark hair glistened with the light. Her smile lit up her face. Angelic. That's how he would describe her.

She moved to him. Her presence so sweet his chest ached.

All of a sudden she looked back over her shoulder as if someone called her. “It's my brother,” she said when she turned around. “He's here. And he looks so good. He runs and can play ball like he loved to do before he got sick.”

Chase tried to look over her shoulder to see him, but he couldn't. He could only see her. He let his gaze fall back on her face. On her eyes that seemed honestly happy.

But then her smiled faded. “You have to go back, Chase. Don't you remember what she said?”

“What who said?”

“You can't turn your back on a challenge, Chase. That's what the palm reader said. I bought the dog collar with the saying on it, remember? It's in your pocket. In your jacket. You have to face this challenge.”

“No, I don't want to go back. I'd be alone. It would be unbearable.”

“You'll be sad for a while, but not forever. It's not like it will go away, you just learn to go on and then you realize that life hasn't ended. I did it with my brother. And you'll do it, too. Go, Chase, go face the challenge.”

He shook his head. “
You
were my challenge.”

She grinned. “Are you kidding? I wasn't a challenge. You had me in the palm of your hand the first time I saw you playing baseball. You looked so good in the uniform.” She glanced back again as if she was being called. “Go back.”

“No,” he said.

She looked sad. “Look, I don't know if I'm supposed to tell you this, but you can see things up here. Glimpses of the future. And I know for a fact that you're going to be okay. You're going to meet someone.” She laughed. “You only
thought
I was a challenge. This other girl you'll meet is the real thing.” She sighed. “Oh, Chase. You have so much life to live. And you can do it. Don't turn away from it.” She looked back one more time. “I have to go. My brother is calling.”

She faded. Disappeared right in front of him. The place where she'd stood held snowflakes and tiny pieces of frozen ice. Slowly it all floated to the ground.

“I'm not going back!” he muttered.

November 1, 7 p.m.

News Flash: Update

All five bodies have been recovered from the crash of the Cessna 210 in the Jasper Mountain Range

The Search and Rescue (SAR) crew found the last victim of the fatal crash among the charred remains of the Cessna 210. Family and friends of both the Tallmans and the Collinses are waiting for the bodies to be released from the morgue after autopsies so they can be taken back to Texas for burial.

Tom Phillips, Search and Rescue volunteer, was quoted saying it was “still too early to speculate as to what caused the crash, but weather could have played a part in the accident.” Phillips added he “could not imagine the heartbreak of the families involved.”

More updates will be made when available.

 

Oct. 31, 5 p.m.

Chase started to walk farther into the tunnel of light. He didn't want to be alone. To be without his father, his mother, and Mindy. She was a pain in his butt, but he loved her.

Then he heard it again. Baxter. His barking was even more persistent. He looked left, then right. Called the dog's name. “Go get Baxter,” he heard his sister say. She stood next to him. “Go, Chase. Go.”

The dog continued to bark.

He turned to look behind him, away from the light, and that's all it took. The power, some unknown power, pulled him back.

All the way. Back to the snow. Back to the voices. The two strange men.

Chase didn't open his eyes. Didn't want to. He hurt. Hurt everywhere. His head throbbed. His leg throbbed. His back ached like a charley horse.

Now he could feel below his chest, but it hurt so bad, he wished he couldn't.
You can't turn your back on a challenge, Chase.
He heard Tami's voice in his head and remembered what she'd said about the dog collar. Slowly moving his arm, surprised he could, he found his pocket. With eyes still closed, his fingers curled around the gift Tami had given him. He traced his thumb over the words cut out in the leather.

“Told you he would make it,” someone said as if they'd seen him move. “I'll stay with him, you go get us a body.”

Chase's head throbbed, surely he'd misunderstood.

“Don't you think they'll just believe he got thrown from the crash? Animals got to him?”

“You're forgetting, I volunteered a time or two with the Search and Rescue team. They won't stop looking until they have the remains of all the victims. Besides, I've already called around. They have a body that fits our needs in the next county over. We'll put it under what's left of the fuel tank and light it, and they'll never know it wasn't him.”

Their words echoed in his head. Okay, he must be imagining things. Head injury, he thought. Then a pain hit, as if someone had a vise grip on his rib cage. It grew so intense that he screamed out. When it finally let go, he pulled Baxter's collar up to his chest and held onto it. Then he let out a breath and tried to slip back into nothingness.

***

Chase smelled smoke. He felt cold. Colder than even the ice he rested on. Fever. He had a fever. He wasn't sure how long he'd been out. Five minutes, or five hours. It didn't matter, he told himself. He wasn't sure anything mattered if what he believed about his parents, sister, and Tami was true.

He didn't know what hurt the most. His body or his heart. And then suddenly he did know. His heart. He'd lost his family. Lost his dog. Lost everyone.

All of a sudden he heard footsteps coming his way. Another pain started at the top of his neck and crawled down his spine. He arched his back and moaned.

“Come on, boy. Let's get out of here.”

Chase felt someone pick him up as if he weighed nothing. He opened his eyes. “Put me down,” he said, the words barely a whisper.

“Sorry, son. We gotta go.”

“What about the tracks?” the other man asked.

“Run some brush over them. With this weather, the team won't make it down here for another twelve to fifteen hours.”

Chase was suddenly lifted from the ground. Up like he was floating. No, like he was flying. He turned his head away from the man's chest who held him close. He was about sixty feet in the air, looking down at the plane crash. The last thing he saw before he passed out again was the smoke coming from part of the wreckage.

***

November 7

Chase heard voices. He lifted his eyelids, not sure where he was. Raising his head off a pillow, he stared at the bedside table and saw the dog collar Tami had given him.

Memories started ping-ponging around his head. Tami. The plane. The crash. The light. The two men.

Grief swelled in his chest and threatened to drown him. Nothing but pride stopped him from curling up in a little ball and sobbing.

Then other vague flashes started filling his head. Time in this bed. In pain. Fever. He'd had a high fever. He recalled the man, the one who'd worn the white lab coat, the one who'd showed up at the plane crash, sitting by his side. He could almost feel him now, running cold towels over him. His words had been calming. Telling Chase that he would be okay. That the pain would end soon.

It hadn't felt like he would be okay. He'd hurt like hell.

Chase spotted a glass beside the dog collar. He remembered the man bringing him something to drink. It had tasted like some kind of berry concoction, but better than anything he'd ever tasted. When he'd finished one glass, he'd asked for more. But the man said he couldn't drink too much. Chase had growled at the man, sounding almost animallike, not knowing where the urge had come from.

Another noise sounded outside the bedroom door. Chase pushed the memories away and sat up a bit. Suddenly, the berry smell filled his senses again. The door opened and the man carried in another glass.

Chase swallowed as his mouth watered. He sat up. He didn't ask, but the man sat down on the edge of the mattress and put the glass in Chase's hands.

He brought it to his lips and drank greedily. When he'd finished, the man took the glass from him.

“Do you remember anything?” he asked.

The momentary relief from the grief disappeared. The drowning sensation returned. “The plane crashed.”

He guy nodded. “I'm sorry for your loss. Your father was a good man.”

Chase recalled seeing this man in the lab when they'd gone for the test. “Are you Jimmy?”

“Yes.”

Chase's gut tightened. “My dad didn't trust you to look out for me,” he said without thinking.

Jimmy sighed. “We were just getting to know each other. But I've done all I can to help you. And I will continue to help you.”

Chase looked around. “Why am I not in the hospital? I was in a plane crash for God's sake.”

Jimmy reached out and touched Chase's arm. “Do you remember what bad shape you were in?” he asked. “Do you see any wounds on you now? Are any of your bones broken?”

Chase looked down at his arms. He had a vague memory of not being able to move his right arm, and he hadn't been able to feel his legs. Fear swirled around his chest. He yanked the covers back, exposing his legs. He bent his knees up and then lowered them back on the bed. No wounds. No broken bones. He looked up. How could … “What happened?”

“There's a virus. The VI virus. Your father, you, and your sister were all carriers. It's—”

“No!” Chase remembered what his sister had said about the strange virus. The virus that made people … made people crave blood. His gaze shot to the glass in the man's hands. Was it blood?