Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
I ducked into the tent where the wind couldn’t reach me and dropped my backpack to the floor. I still had a couple of hand warmers and needed both right now.
Clearly, I’d turned into a giant wimp.
“Beau Richmond-Brooks.” I paused my search through the bag and listened. I couldn’t have heard that correctly. “Is there a Beau Brooks?”
“Yeah, he’s in the red tent.”
I continued sifting through the pockets of my backpack, indifferent to whatever they needed until I could feel some warmth returning to my fingers. I had enough warmers leftover to add to my boots when the flat of my tent flap suddenly lifted. “You have a call.”
A hand thrust a Sonim tactical smartphone toward me, used in remote places like this, only for emergencies. From the time I lifted to take the phone until I tumbled back on my ass, bringing the phone to my ear, my heart raced and my chin hit my chest. A gloved finger stuck into my other ear to block the noises coming from every direction. “Hello?”
“Beau?” My mom asked, relief in her tone.
“It’s me, Mom. What’s goin’ on?” Dread and fear closed my eyes. My entire body tensed and heated, I felt a flush crawling up my neck.
“Son, I’ve been trying to reach you. We need you to come home early.” The tremble in her voice told me she was holding back tears, but she powered through, making me have to play her words through my head again to understand. “Dash is very sick. They flew him to Houston Methodist over a week ago. Wesley’s with him. I’m helping Amelia at home with the kids. We’ve arranged a flight to take you home. The camp staff has the information.”
“What do you mean Dash is sick?” I asked.
“They haven’t been able to find the cause, but they’re saying it’s a severe respiratory infection. What’s happening isn’t making sense to them. They’ve got him on a ventilator and multiple antibiotics that don’t really appear to be helping. They contacted the CDC to help identify what he has, to get him the right medications.”
“A ventilator?” I questioned incredulously and began pushing my shit back in the pack.
The camp attendant poked their head through the tent’s opening. “That’s costing you about sixty-five dollars a minute. We’ve called for the helicopter. They’re on the way. There’s a private plane waiting. It’s been there for several days.”
“Son, get going. Call me on the plane. Thank the camp staff. They’ve been incredibly supportive. Hurry, Beau. Don’t wait.”
The call ended without a response from me. Within seconds, I grabbed my gear and pushed out of the tent.
“What’s goin’ on?” Jesse asked. My team gathered around me as the whump-whump-whump of a helicopter neared. I caught sight of it as it lifted over the edge of the mountain and drowned out my ability to reply.
I grabbed Jesse’s bicep, drawing him close to yell at his ear. “Dash is sick, I’ve got to go. It’s bad.” A numbness embraced me like protective insulation, keeping the shock and disbelief at a distance.
“How’re the kids?” Ben asked. He had small children, and we regularly shared stories.
“Don’t know.” What had my mom said about my children?
The unknown answer had me hustling faster toward the helicopter, following the guy who handed me the phone. My unlaced boots loosened with each step I took. The whooshing of the rotor blades overpowered any other noise as I hunched and ran toward my ride home.
“Put on the headphones.” The camp staff yelled as I climbed inside. The pilot, wearing mirrored aviators, reached around and tossed the headphones in my lap. The door shut me in. The headphones instantly quieted the roar of the engine and blades.
“We’re flying you to a private airport in Bhadrapur,” the pilot said through his microphone with a thick Napoli accent. He gave a thumbs-up through the split in the front seats. I mimicked his gesture. It appeased him, and the helicopter rose into the air. The campground shrunk below us. We ascended swiftly, swinging around to head away from the ominous looking snowcapped peaks. On the other side was dense forestry as far as the eye could see.
I had picked up a few words while I was here, hoping I hadn’t been misled. “Samaya?” I crossed my fingers that I was asking about the time to our destination.
“Twenty-five minutes.”
I nodded, adding. “Dhan'yavāda.”
Who knew if I used the word properly before factoring in my thick Southern accent. I had to tamp down the worry as I leaned over and tied my boots. The warmers went back into my backpack, and my fingers unzipped my heavy jacket. Anxiety made the body warm. What could be so alarming that brought both Carter and my mom to Sea Springs?
Had Dash died and they were protecting me until I arrived home? Instant panic surged over my being, rejecting the idea. My mom would be truthful with me. Besides, why say he was on a ventilator if he wasn’t. With Carter’s influence, I’d have been dragged off the mountain if the worst had happened. There were so many flaws in my reasoning abilities that even I couldn’t keep up. Yet, I would cling to the small glimmer of hope until I was on the plane home and had my mom back on the phone to ask these questions.