A Time for Patriots

“Battle Mountain Base and CAP 2722, this is Hasty, we’ve located the third person, and he’s alive, ” Bellville radioed happily. He turned to Markham. “Great job, Ralph.” He pulled out his GPS receiver and started copying their location’s geographic coordinates to relay to responders, then said to the others, “C’mon, guys, you have a victim that needs first aid. Let’s get busy and help him until the medevac helicopter and sheriff arrive.”

“The cadets are doing an outstanding job — I think they can help this survivor just fine,” Fitzgerald said with a rare smile on his face. “Spivey, Markham, get busy and help McLanahan.”

The cadets donned rubber gloves and got out their first-aid kits. “Assessment first, guys,” Brad said. “What do we got?”

“He’s pretty messed up,” Ron said. “Looks like a drowned rat.”

“Real helpful, Ron,” Brad said. “Ralph?”

“Airway is open, he’s breathing, but he’s bleeding from somewhere,” Ralph said, going through the ABCs of first aid — airway, breathing, and circulation. Starting at the top, he examined the boy’s head. “What’s your name?” he asked. The boy didn’t answer, but looked at Ralph with relief. “Can you tell me your name?”

“J-Jeremy,” the boy said finally, allowing himself to trust the younger boy rather than the older ones. “Jeremy Post.”

“Hi, Jeremy. I’m Ralph.” He nodded over his shoulder toward the others as he worked. “That’s Brad, that’s Ron, and the adults are David and Michael. We’re with the Civil Air Patrol from Battle Mountain, and we’re here to help you. I’m going to look at your head. Tell me if it hurts.” Jeremy didn’t say anything, but winced as Ralph pressed. “Possible fractured skull in the forehead area,” he said. He pulled out a flashlight and checked Jeremy’s eyes. “Left pupil is blown and unresponsive. Possible concussion.” He smiled at Jeremy. “You’re hurt, Jeremy, but you must be a pretty tough kid to come all this way without your sneakers. We’re going to get you to a hospital and have the docs take a look at you.”

“I don’t want to go to a hospital.”

“I don’t blame you, Jeremy — I don’t like hospitals either,” Brad said, kneeling beside the boy. “But you’re hurt pretty bad. We’re going to make sure you get fixed up.” Jeremy started to sob. “Don’t worry, Jeremy. You’ll be okay.”

“But my folks… my mom and dad…”

Brad nodded and clasped the boy’s shoulder as Ralph continued his examination, thankful for the distracting conversation. “We’re going to make sure they’re taken good care of, Jeremy,” Brad said.

“They’re dead, aren’t they?” Jeremy whispered.

“Yeah,” Brad said. He remembered what Ralph had said when the search began and added, “But it’s not your fault.”

“I shouldn’t have been talking,” Jeremy said. “I should’ve kept quiet. My dad always told me not to talk at certain times in the flight, and I did, and we crashed. It’s my fault.”

“No, it wasn’t your fault,” Brad said. Ralph was right, Brad realized: Jeremy blamed himself for the crash, and he was so afraid of being punished that he ran off across the desert, hoping never to be found. “The weather was pretty bad in-flight, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“What were you trying to tell your dad?”

“That… that the compass was twirling and the ball was all the way to the right,” Jeremy said. “I could see the altitude indicator, and it was twisting around. We were in a spin, but my dad was too busy to notice it, so I tried to tell him.”

Brad smiled. “Are you a pilot?”

“I’m too young,” Jeremy said, “but I want to be a pilot. My dad lets me fly all the time, and I’ve watched a lot of his flying training videos and played his flight simulator on his computer.”

“That means you’re almost a pilot,” Brad said. “I’m almost a pilot too.”

“You are ? Have you soloed?”

“Not yet, but soon, I hope,” Brad said. “So you know what I think? I think your warning helped your dad spot the spin and correct it in time to make a controlled crash landing.”

“But my mom and dad are dead.”

“Yes,” Brad said in a soft but firm voice, “but he saved the plane in time to save you, didn’t he?” Jeremy lowered his head and nodded, then started to weep quietly. Brad thought there had been enough talking about his dead parents, so he looked over at Ralph. “All done with the assessment, Ralph?”

“Yes, sir,” Ralph replied. “Possible concussion, possible fractured forehead, broken right arm, multiple contusions and lacerations all over his body, dehydration, sunburn, and insect bites.” He smiled at Jeremy. “But he’s one tough kid, that’s for sure. He’d make a good CAP cadet.”

Bellville was writing all of it down. “Good work, Ralph,” he said. “I’ll call it in and update the medevac helicopter’s ETA.”

“Let’s get Jeremy out of the wash and protected from the sun,” Fitzgerald said. “Then we’ll have to pick out a landing zone for the chopper.”

Bellville keyed the mike on his portable FM repeater transceiver: “Battle Mountain Base, this is Hasty, I’ve got a medical report for the EMTs inbound,” he said. “Also requesting ETA for the medevac helicopter.”

“Stand by, Hasty,” Spara replied.