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SVS-04: The Field Trip by Bluewolf, Part 2

Jim Ellison glanced at his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes, then glared at the cell phone lying on his desk.

It was nearly half past one; for the past half an hour he had been expecting the phone to ring, and he was beginning to worry. Why hadn't Blair phoned yet?

He was reluctant to call his partner; Blair had promised to phone when the bus reached the main road, and he hesitated to do anything that might indicate that he doubted Blair's word or say to Professor Stoddard that he felt a need to check up on what Blair was doing. And yet...

Finally reaching a decision, he reached for the phone and hit the speed dial for Blair's number.

The mobile phone you have called is either switched off, or it is out of range.

Jim frowned. There was no way the phone was out of range. It would be typical of Blair to forget to switch his phone on, except that he had phoned just before they left the dig; although it was perfectly possible he had switched it off again to preserve the battery. It also didn't explain why he hadn't phoned; he might sometimes be forgetful, having spent so much of his life not having to worry about letting anyone know where he was, but he wouldn't deliberately break a promise.

Besides, he was probably as hungry to hear Jim's voice as Jim was to hear Blair's.

He heard a soft growl, and glanced around. His panther sat near the door, tail twitching; as he watched, it got up and padded over to the door and stood there as if waiting for him.

Something was wrong; he was now sure of it. There was no other explanation for the panther's appearance. Jumping up, he headed for Simon's office; he knocked and stuck his head around the door.

Simon grinned. "This is to tell me you're leaving to pick up Sandburg, right?"

"No, Simon, this is to tell you I'm heading off along the road Sandburg should be on to look for him. He should have phoned about half an hour ago to tell me they were off the mountain road and on the main road again. He hasn't phoned, and I can't reach him."

"Have you tried Rainier? They might know something. Maybe the party's staying on another day."

"Blair phoned about nine, just as they were leaving. It shouldn't have taken more than four hours for them to get back to the main road. Simon, you know what those mountain roads can be like, and with the rain, hell, part of the road might have been washed out. If it was, there's no way a bus could turn -- and I wouldn't like to try backing up any distance on one of those roads."

"If something like that had happened, don't you think the kid would have phoned?"

"If he could get a signal. There are a lot of dead zones in the mountains. Do me a favor, Simon, would you? Contact Rainier, get them to check with the bus company to see if they've heard anything. Meanwhile I'm heading off on the road they took -- thank god I got Blair to show me on the map where he was going."

"Jim, are you sure he showed you the right place?"

"He told me the name of the place, and I checked on the route," Jim growled. "But anyway, he's better with maps than he'd have you think."

"Forty miles in the wrong direction?"

"That was simply confusing right and left, and I'm not convinced it wasn't his instincts telling him something that time. In this case, there was only one possible road. Let me know what you find out, Simon, and I'll phone you if I can -- I'll certainly have phone contact for about an hour, possibly up to two, but," he repeated, "there could be dead zones once I get onto the mountain road."

He was aware of the panther padding in front of him as he hurried to the elevator; by the time he reached the garage, however, it had disappeared.

Jim checked his gas, delayed long enough to fill the tank, then stopped at a store near the PD to buy a bottle of water and a couple of packages of sandwiches. He ignored the speed limit once he was out of Cascade and on the open road; though for a while he still half hoped he would soon see the missing bus coming towards him, he had no real expectation of it; by the time he reached the turn-off, he no longer had any doubt that there was definitely a problem.

Just as he swung the truck onto the mountain road, the cell phone rang. Jim pulled to the side of the road and grabbed the phone.

"Ellison."

"It's Simon. Neither Rainier nor the bus company have heard anything, and the bus company wasn't able to make radio contact with their driver."

"OK. I'm onto the mountain road now, and there's still no sign of the bus. It should have been here by one, and it's almost three now. Something has definitely happened to it. I hope it's something as simple as part of the road washed away."

"Or even a breakdown. We've contacted Highway Patrol to check it out since the bus company can't get a response either, but it's at least an hour behind you."

"Right."

Jim put the phone down and drove on at a speed that showed total disregard for the truck's springs.

About three-quarters of an hour later, he saw the brown scar of a recent landslide ahead of him, and cold terror gripped him. He took a deep breath, stopped the truck and reached for the phone.

He wasn't quite in the dead zone; the signal was poor, but the phone made contact.

"Banks."

"Simon, there's been a landslide. I haven't reached it yet. The bus got to the dig, so it's got to be more recent than Tuesday. I don't know if the bus is stuck on the other side of it, or..." He swallowed. "I'm going on... I think I'll be out of contact in another two or three minutes so don't look for another report from me for a while."

"I'll let... crackle... know."

"Right." He put the phone down and drove on.

It seemed to take forever, but in reality it was only few minutes later that he reached the edge of the landslide and stopped a few yards short of where the road disappeared under a bed of mud and rock. A long stretch of the mountainside had broken away several hundred feet above the road, and from there down to the valley floor a long way below was a tangled mess of rock, mud and broken trees, fanning wide as it went and damming the river that flowed through the valley; but it had happened long enough previously that there had been time for the flooded river to form a small lake, overflow and resume its course.

A spot of color about half a mile further up the valley and close to the river caught his eye; he focused on it.

"Oh, god!" he whispered.

It was the bus -- or, rather, what was left of it. The rain must have washed away the mud it had undoubtedly collected as it was swept downhill or it would have been indistinguishable from the rest of the debris of the landslide... He concentrated harder, ignoring the risk of zoning as he struggled to see whether there were any bodies in or near the wreckage. Although he failed to see any, he knew that didn't mean there were none. The conditions were extreme, even for a sentinel's abilities.

With an effort, he pulled his attention back from the wreckage, not sure how long he had been in a near-zone as he struggled to look for bodies. There was no obvious way to get safely to the destroyed bus on foot. Any search would have to be by air.

He tried the phone, but was unsurprised when he failed to get a signal; looked at the road; realized it was impossible for him to turn the truck safely; and remembered his own words to Simon. 'I wouldn't like to try backing up any distance on one of those roads'.

Well, the truck wouldn't be quite as bad as a bus... but he was going to have to back down the road quite some distance before he could phone.

He kept the truck close to the uphill side of the road as it crawled backwards. He had lost track of time, but suddenly he remembered that there was another vehicle following him; he had no idea how long had it taken him to get back to this point, and spared a second to glance at his watch.

It was nearly five.

The other vehicle had left at some point between half past two and three o'clock, when it had been roughly an hour behind him... He had almost certainly been going a good bit faster, but even so, it must be catching up on him by now.

He edged around a fairly long bend; behind him was a relatively long straight stretch. This would be a safe place to stop. He tried the phone again.

The signal was still weak, but he made contact.

"Banks."

"Ellison. There's been a major landslide, and it caught the bus."

"You're sure?"

"Saw it clearly. Even without using my sight it was quite obvious what it was. I couldn't see any bodies, but at that distance... Anyway, the quickest and safest way to check it will be to drop searchers, maybe even a dog, by helicopter, but it'll be dark too soon for a helicopter to fly in tonight. The Highway Patrol car hasn't caught up with me yet but I don't think it can be far away now. See if you can stop it from coming any further; I had to back up to where I could get a signal and I'll have to back up a good bit further before it's safe to turn."

"Right."

"I'm going to leave -- Hell. Too late to stop the Patrol car -- it's here. Get back to you." He dropped the phone and jumped down from his truck, waving to the other vehicle to stop.

The driver leaned out. "You Detective Ellison? You reported a landslide?"

Jim nodded. "The road's destroyed. The bus was carried down almost to the valley floor."

"God. What about the kids in it?"

"That I don't know. Couldn't get close to the wreckage. It was pretty clear what it was, but I didn't see any sign of movement, and at that distance trying to see bodies was impossible. I've been in touch with my boss, reported what I saw. There's no point in you even trying to go any further; there's nothing you could do. Any search for bodies is going to have to be by air."

The man nodded. "I'll need to report in myself, but --" He broke off as his radio crackled into life. "Patrol Charlie."

"Latest report is that the road's closed by a landslide that caught the bus."

"Yeah, I'm speaking with Detective Ellison now."

"Seems like there's nothing that can be done from the road. Return to base, but leave a 'road closed' sign at the junction with the main road."

"On my way." He looked at Jim. "You going back too?"

Jim shook his head. "I'll leave my truck here -- backing it once down this road is once too often -- but I can go up there again on foot. Maybe there's nothing I can do, but my partner was on that bus, helping out -- I have to try."

The driver nodded, understanding, then began to make his way slowly backwards down the road.

Jim returned to his truck and dialed Simon again.

"Banks."

"It's me again. The Patrol car is returning to base. I'm going back up to start searching; I'll be out of phone contact."

"Be careful."

"Yeah." Jim thought about it for a moment, then shoved the phone into his jacket pocket, and turned to walk back up the road.

It would be dark soon; but he decided he had time for a quick reconnaissance... Then he would return to the truck to sleep, and first thing in the morning he would be ready to set off again in search of his guide. His friend. His partner.

There were the remains of several small mine carts standing beside one of the walls, as well as some totally rusted lengths of metal and some rotting planks -- final confirmation that this had indeed, at one time, been a mine. There was nothing to indicate what had been mined; it appeared to have been totally stripped of whatever it was before being abandoned.

The students settled in small groups close to the walls of the cavern; Blair, Stoddard and Liddiard formed their own group; Bob Gemmell settled down on his own, not too far from the 'adults', and leaned back against a rock, staring up at the roof, a distant look on his face, his attitude screaming, "Stay away from me!".

Stoddard said, very quietly, "Thanks for taking charge, Blair; I know it's just a sprain, but my ankle is hurting enough to make me feel a bit sick. The last thing I feel like doing is taking charge of the situation, and -- well, I knew you could do it. Now -- you said Ellison wouldn't give up searching, and I know you meant that, but have you considered the odds of his finding us when we're stuck in here?"

"On the face of it, they don't look good, I know, but remember, Jim's... a very stubborn man," Blair replied as quietly, glancing almost absently at Liddiard before continuing. "A lot is going to depend on if a search finds the bus -- that would give him a starting point. But," he raised his voice slightly, "we've got air, we've got water," he indicated the pool, "and we can survive quite a while without food."

"How long can we survive without food?" It was one of the girls, sitting close enough to overhear the comment.

Blair grinned. "As long as we have water, at least a month, possibly six weeks. Just look at it positively -- it'll be a good way to lose weight."

There was some nervous laughter at that, for the girl making the comment was pencil thin.

"The point is, we're all alive, and there's a reasonable amount of hope that we'll be found." He shivered. "All right, we'll be cold, too. Can't be helped."

They fell silent, a silence that was interrupted when one of the students came over to them. "Professor... Mr. Sandburg... what do we do about the toilet?"

"Somewhere as far away from our water supply as possible," Blair said. He pointed to a corner of the cavern. "It's fairly dark over there; that'll give as much privacy as possible, and it's downhill from the water. Everyone --" He raised his voice. "That corner can serve as a toilet. Yes, I know it'll smell, but a nasty smell won't kill us." And it might just attract Jim's attention, he thought.

"You said a water supply, but we don't have any cups," one of the girls said.

"Hands were invented before cups," Blair told her, "but who said we don't have any cups?" He reached into his backpack, and produced a small folding cup. Beside him, Stoddard chuckled quietly.

They settled down again in a stillness interrupted only by some of the party heading, one at a time, for the 'toilet corner'. A faint smell of urine began to permeate the air.

It was getting dark in the cavern, though through the hole in the roof they could see that it was still reasonably bright outside, but even there the light was fading.

It was going to be a long night.

Standing at the edge of the landslide, Jim studied the valley, pinpointing the position of the bus and calculating where it had left the road. Tomorrow, he decided, he would climb along the mountainside above the point of fracture until he was directly above the bus, and then start searching.

Everyone on the bus could be dead, he knew, their bodies lying here and there under the rock and earth as they were tossed out of the bus when it was swept downhill; but he didn't think the panther would have shown itself in the way it had if his guide had died.

If only the rain would stop, he could begin searching immediately; but it would be too dangerous in the dark on a steep, wet slope. He would do Blair no good if he injured himself. If only the panther would reappear and lead him to Blair. But it clearly considered it had done its duty by letting him know he should come out in search of his friend.

Reluctantly he turned and made his way back down the road to his truck as daylight failed.

He choked down a sandwich, forcing himself to eat despite his total lack of appetite, then with nothing else to do in the dark but sleep, he closed his eyes.

He found it difficult to sleep, however. He was confident Blair was alive, but he knew that finding him would be far from easy.

Resolutely he blanked his mind, closed his ears to the persistent rattle of rain on the roof -- was it never going to stop? -- and at last fell into an uneasy slumber.

He woke unrefreshed in the half light of the dawning day, aware of a night of near-nightmares but unable to remember any of them.

Once again he forced himself to eat, and washed down the unwanted sandwich with a long drink of water; then he set off up the road again.

At least, he noted with some relief, the rain had finally eased to a light drizzle.

Nobody in the cave slept well either.

They were all wet, cold, hungry and uncomfortable, and not tired enough to sleep in the face of those discomforts. They abandoned the illusion that they were resting when the morning light began to creep into the cavern, and sat up, resuming their little social groups. One by one they crossed to the toilet corner; the smell of urine intensified.

So far, nobody had touched the pool of rainwater; now Blair went to it and dipped out a cupful of water. As he drank, he saw the 'euww!' expression on the face of the girl who had asked about food, and looked directly at her.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I didn't think you really meant us to drink that!"

"What's wrong with it?"

"It's... it's... it's dirty! It hasn't been treated. It has to be full of germs!"

"It's pure rainwater," Blair said. "As long as everyone continues to pee in the corner over there, there's nothing in here to contaminate it."

Stoddard limped over to join him. "Mr. Sandburg is right, Sally. This water is perfectly pure, perfectly good." He took the cup from Blair and also drank a cupful. Nobody else bothered. Blair shrugged, left the cup sitting beside the pool, and returned to his earlier position, knowing that when they were thirsty enough, the students would drink. Stoddard made his way to the corner to relieve himself, then came painfully back and rejoined him.

A few moments later, a quiet, tentative voice said, "Professor, Mr. Sandburg..."

"Yes, Bob?" Stoddard asked.

Gemmell ran nervous fingers through his hair, then glanced up at the hole in the roof. "I... I think I can get out of here."

The two men looked at each other. "You can?" Blair asked. "I wouldn't have thought it was possible."

"It won't be easy, but..." he hesitated. Then, with a glance at the other students to make sure they couldn't overhear, said quietly and with obvious difficulty, "Dad used to play pro football, but he had to quit when he was injured. In his book, only men who work with their muscles or are into sports are real men, and successful sportsmen are better paid. Men who aren't either of those, men who work with their minds, are wimps. Soft.

"He was going to relive his career vicariously through my older brother and me.

"Only my brother hated football. He wasn't athletic at all. He skipped the classes, took extra art instead -- he had real talent. When he found out, Dad threw Danny out. Told him artists were all fags, and he wasn't having any fags in his house. Then he set out to make sure I'd 'be a man'. He got it into his head that the best way to do that was to discourage me from doing well academically, force me to concentrate on sports.

"I really do enjoy your classes, Professor, but if Dad found out he'd half kill me. I have to pretend, deliberately misbehave to get snarky comments on my reports, get marks just high enough to pass but not high enough to look as if I've got brains. Danny had brains, you see."

"Brainy and artistic meant wimp. And wimp meant... gay, huh?" Blair muttered...

Gemmell nodded.

"Was Danny gay?" Stoddard asked, his voice gentle.

"I don't know. I was only twelve when he left, so how could I know? I never saw him with a girl, but that doesn't mean anything -- you'll never see me with a girl either, and I don't think I'm gay. It's partly because nobody likes me, but mostly because Dad says I'm too young yet to think of going out with anyone. I'm only allowed out at night for practice.

"I'm on the football team, and I'm quite good, but I hate it, the competitive element, just as much as Danny did. What I do enjoy is climbing, pitting my ability against the rock, pushing myself all the time to get more and more skilled -- but before Dad would even let me do any climbing, I had to show him what was meant by extreme climbing and persuade him that I wanted to go in for that real he-man stuff." There was just a trace of mockery in his voice.

"It won't be easy," he repeated, serious again, "but I think there's a possible route up there -- for someone like me who knows what he's doing."

"Safety margin?" Blair asked. "If you find you can't do it? That it isn't possible?"

"I might manage to climb back down. I might fall. But if I can do it and get out, it's our best chance."

Blair and Stoddard looked at each other. "I don't like it, Bob," Stoddard said. "You'd normally have ropes and things for safety, wouldn't you?"

"Yes. I'd normally be wearing a rope and carrying the weight of a lot of pitons and karabiners, using them to secure my position. The extra weight is more of a strain on the fingers. If all I'm carrying is my own weight, that'll make a big difference. Look, Mr. Sandburg, you have a notebook. If I write in it that I'm doing this on my own responsibility, against your wishes, Professor, that should keep you clear if I do fall."

"That's not what's on our minds, Bob," Blair said quietly. "We just don't want to see you fall and get hurt."

"You can't stop me. I'm over eighteen. I can make my own decisions." The defiance was back in his voice. "And frankly, I don't want to die in here."

Stoddard said slowly, "Blair, I know you're convinced that Ellison will find us, and I don't doubt your faith in him, but if Bob thinks he can do this, I think we should let him try."

Blair looked up at the hole in the roof for a moment, then as he returned his gaze to Gemmell, he grinned. The wolf was standing beside the wall, reared up on its hind legs, forepaws resting against the wall as high as it could reach. It turned its head and stared straight at him. The message was absolutely clear.

"Go for it!" he said.

Gemmell removed his jacket and put it down beside Blair's pack. Blair nodded... "I'll remember to pick it up. And Bob -- I'm sure you'll do it." He reached into his backpack, took out his cell phone and switched it on. "With luck, once you get out you'll be high enough to get a signal. Speed dial one will get you my friend Jim Ellison. Two will get you Captain Banks, Cascade PD. If you're not high enough to get a signal, go higher."

"Right." Gemmell pushed the phone into his pocket and turned to the wall.

As the student began to climb, Liddiard said softly, "Are you two quite sure about this? You didn't even get him to write that disclaimer. If he falls, I'd guess that father of his will sue you both, and Rainier, into bankruptcy..."

"We'll have you as a witness that he volunteered and refused to listen to our advice, Joe, won't we?" Stoddard asked quietly.

"Well, of course, but..."

"But your testimony won't be needed," Blair said. "He'll do it."

Despite his certainly, however, despite the ease with which Gemmell was moving up the wall, he found it difficult to watch; he could understand the fascination of watching something dangerous, but even so he found it almost impossible to watch someone he knew even as casually as this putting himself into danger. The other students watched, fascinated, not knowing exactly what Gemmell was planning, but realizing it was dangerous.

Gemmell had chosen a route that, while relatively close to the hole, wasn't the part of the cave wall that was closest to it. When he was almost at the roof he paused and looked towards it, studying the rock carefully, able to see more clearly the handholds he had only been able to guess at from below. He moved upwards two or three more feet and paused again; they he reached out and gripped a handhold, and swung free from the rock wall, all his weight for a moment hanging from the fingers of one hand; then his other hand made contact with the roof. Once again he moved steadily, swinging with no obvious hesitation from handhold to handhold.

The distance involved was actually not great; it was only a few seconds -- that seemed like an hour to the watchers -- before he swung his legs up and hooked one knee around a chunk of outcropping rock. From there it took him only a few seconds more to straighten up and climb on out of the hole.

"Yes!" Blair exclaimed, though he chose not to join in the yell of relief from the other students.

Gemmell's head appeared a minute or two later. "The phone worked," he called down. "Mr. Ellison's on his way here right now."

Blair grinned. "Of course he is," he murmured.

Jim made good time back up the road to the edge of the landslide, then began to scramble up the hillside. The footing was treacherous, and he was unable to make the speed he would have liked, but eventually he found himself level with the top of the slide. He began to make his way carefully along the uneven ground, staying several feet above the fracture line, concentrating, alert to the danger of the earth giving way under his weight.

When his phone rang, it took him a second to change the focus of his concentration. He pulled it out. "Ellison."

"Hello. Mr. Sandburg told me to call you... "

"Sandburg! Is he all right?"

"Yes. He... he..." The caller seemed uncertain of what to say.

"It's all right. Take a deep breath. Now. What happened? Where are you? Is everyone okay?"

"The bus broke down. Mr. Sandburg realized there was going to be a landslide, but he knew where there was a cave. He got us all off the bus and into the cave, but we were trapped in there. I've done some climbing; I was able to climb up to a hole and get out, but nobody else can get out without ropes."

As he listened, Jim's eyes were searching the mountainside in front of him.

"I think I can see you -- stick a hand above your head and wave, would you? Yes, I can see you."

"You can?"

"You probably can't see me at all, but you're on the skyline from where I am," Jim told him, cheerfully lying. "I'll be with you inside -- oh, quarter of an hour."

He hit Simon's number, anxious to give his boss the good news as quickly as possible.

"Banks."

"Ellison."

"There's a helicopter on its way. It should be there in the next half hour."

"Good. It's definitely a rescue now, not a search."

"Wha -- "

"I just got a call from Blair, via... it had to be one of the students. The bus broke down, but there was enough warning for them to get off it in time and find shelter."

"Everyone?"

"So he said, so can you let Rainier know?"

"Will do. Keep me informed."

"You got it."

Jim thrust his phone back into his pocket and moved on.

It took some time to get everyone out of the old mine and taken by helicopter down to the main road, where by then a bus waited to take them back to Rainier. Blair insisted on Stoddard going with the first group; Jim waited with Blair, who pointed out that as Stoddard's official assistant he had to wait till last and make sure everyone was safe; then Jim had to be dropped off to retrieve his truck, but insisted that Blair take the helicopter and join the bus.

"And make sure you go to hospital and get your arm checked!"

"Yes, Mom." Blair deliberately injected a resigned note into his voice, but he knew that his arm needed proper attention; Liddiard had done the best he could in a difficult situation, but the injury was aching badly now and Blair knew it was probably infected. It made sense to get it properly seen to.

Jim was nearly back to Cascade when his phone rang. He pulled off to the side of the road.

"Ellison."

"Hi, Jim. Just to let you know, we got held up a bit at Rainier. I'm on my way to the hospital now - Eli, too - and I'll wait there for you to pick me up, OK?"

"OK. I'll pick up some clothes for you at the loft, then come on to the hospital. How are you getting there?"

"Eli's girl friend is taking us."

"Right. I'll probably be there before they've finished with you - Girl friend? You've never said anything about Stoddard having a girl friend."

Blair chuckled. "I didn't know, and when you think about it, it's none of my business."

Jim rang off and restarted the truck.

They picked up takeout on their way back to the loft. While they waited for it, Jim said curiously, "Eli's girl friend? I thought at his age he'd be a confirmed bachelor, pretty well set in his ways."

Blair grinned. "Actually, he's known her for years - come to that, I've known her for years. Lesley's about forty, maybe a little older. She's an anthropologist too, been on most of Eli's expeditions over the last fifteen years - I'd guess they've been dancing around each other for a long time, and now that Eli's settled, it's only a matter of time before they get married. They're as much of a pair as... well, as we are."

Once home, they settled down to eat.

"So Chief -- what exactly happened?"

"The wolf warned me, showed me the way to the old mine... but we were lucky it was there. But you know, Jim, I'm so angry, and Eli is furious -- Bob Gemmell, the boy who climbed out of that hole..."

"Yes?"

"He's always been an awkward student, Eli said, but he sort of explained why when we were trapped. Well, his father was there waiting with the other parents. Eli made sure he knew what Bob had done, how much we appreciated it... the bastard didn't even tell Bob he'd done well. All he did was snarl, 'You're playing in an important game tomorrow, you'd better not let this ruin your chances of doing well.' Bob... went right back into his 'couldn't care less about anyone' shell."

"Winning isn't everything, it's the only thing," Jim muttered.

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