Chapter 258

The Range Sergeant stood safely on the opposite side of the crevasse from the slope of the mountain where the firing range was located. All personnel had been notified that the Daisy Bell would be in use and everyone had been warned to stay away from the areas where the snow slides were to occur, but he intended to monitor the volume of snow that would be dislodged onto his range. Also, he had come to the range to ensure that none of his people were in a danger area. He stood, his head reared back, watching the helicopter as the pilot and the Colonel worked their way along the rugged mountain crags far above.

Higgins wondered if the blasts would bring down such a volume of snow that he would have to shut the range down until he could get the snow removed. He saw the helicopter hover the Daisy Bell near an overhang and observed the flash of light and heard the sound of the blast, but nothing much happened to the snow under the copter. An uneasiness crept through him as he watched the helicopter move closer and closer to the side of the mountain.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang, then a second later the chatter of the rotors slamming into the rock face. "Shit! Shit! Shit!" he hissed out as he keyed his radio. "The Colonel's helicopter hit the cliff face," he said over the Ready helicopter's channel. "They're almost directly over the firing range."

As soon as the Ready crew acknowledged, he changed to the main channel to tell his Lieutenant, but Mayfield, having seen the crash with his security cameras, was already issuing orders.

The Daisy Bell had been hanging just over the edge, and now began to fall, but slowly at first, since it was still attached to the helicopter. Then as the helicopter began to slide faster down the steep slope, the weight of the Bell helped to accelerate the copter's slide. As the Sergeant watched, the helicopter came tumbling over the edge. He knew it had to be the pilot and Colonel's end, but he suddenly realized that he wasn't seeing anyone in the copter. He was reasonably sure it was empty, but with it turning over and over as it fell, he couldn't be certain. The Bell hit, then a half second later, the helicopter slammed down on top of it to the accompaniment of the fuel tanks and the hydrogen cylinder going off. Wearing snowshoes, the Sergeant began a frantic slog through the snow as he worked his way through the drifts to get to the range stairway so he could work his way down into the crevasse that was the range itself. Even as he began to move, he heard the rolling boom of the Ship translating.

A second later, the Colonel slid over the overhang far above the range with someone tucked under his right arm. Before Higgins even had time to curse, the two men disappeared. A few seconds later, the Ship became visible and he heard the Colonel on the radio warning the Ready helicopter crew that the Ship was in front of them.

At the top of the stairs, winded, the Sergeant stood with his neck craned back as he stared up the cliff face. The Ship backed away from the cliff and just hung there in space. Damn. That is one scary looking bitch, and it damn sure doesn't take a genius to realize that thing is alien. But it just saved the Colonel's and the pilot's asses.

In the blink of an eye, the Ship was a few hundred feet higher, then clear of the helicopter, sped toward the Retreat with an acceleration that would have made jelly out of anyone inside her, had it not been for the inertialess drive.

The Sergeant, slogging through the deep snow on his snowshoes, struggled back toward the ski lodge/Security building.

In the kitchen, Diana's head snapped up and she pushed her sister-wives away. "He's alive," she said, needlessly. They had all felt their husband as he moved from the cliff to the back of the Retreat, and any movement that happened that quickly had to be due to the Ship. Diana was on her feet and out the door of the kitchen, sprinting toward the inside garage and the back door. Arlene and Kayla were a half-step behind, the others struggling to keep up with them. Matt, having just stepped out of his suite into the hallway, grunted and slammed himself flat against the wall as Jeff's fourteen wives sprinted past, the Clan Queen leading with tears streaming down her face.

By the door, coats hastily donned, some of the women wearing shorts, some in jeans, one in a dress, they all ran out the back, but the path to the Ship had not been plowed out past the parking lot. The Ship, now invisible again, saw the struggling wives as they entered the deep snow, and moved toward them. Her ramp came down and the hatch opened. Jeff stood just inside waiting, his left hand, balled into a fist, behind him so Diana and the others would not see the damage.

Diana, with Arlene beside her, and Kayla only a couple of steps behind, bounded up the ramp to grab their husband as soon as they cleared the hatch. "What happened?" Diana gasped out much louder than she intended. "You're hurt. I know you are."

The rest of Jeff's wives came through the hatch a couple of seconds after the Clan Queen, Arlene and Kayla did. "He's bleeding," Jennie called out after moving to the side in an effort to get past the others to be closer to her husband, and wound up being in a position to see the blood dripping from Jeff's left hand.

"Open your fist and let me see," Caitlin, her nurse training kicking in, said as she pushed past the others.

"There's a deep gash in his right thigh, too," Arlene said as she pulled at the torn fatigue material to get a better look. "And it's bleeding a lot, but it's not pulsing, so it isn't an artery."

Caitlin gently took hold of Jeff's left wrist. "Let me see," she demanded.

"It's okay. The Ship will fix it."

"Let. Me. See," the nurse ground out, stressing every word.

Jeff opened his hand, and Nat, who was standing beside Caitlin, promptly spun away and threw up.

Big drops of blood from all four fingers were steadily dribbling onto the carpet to almost instantly disappear, as did Nat's vomit.

Diana grabbed his wrist, swallowed, then glared Jeff in the eye. "Why isn't Little One stopping the bleeding?"

"Uh, I left her in her drawer this morning. I don't always take her with me," he finished, defensively.

Diana stared at him for a second, knowing there was more to it than that, but just mumbled, "Men." Then in a normal voice, "Get in that chamber right now. You should already be in it."

"The hand isn't that bad..." Jeff started.

"The hell it's not. Why is it that men have to be so fucking macho?" she snarled out to no one in particular, her use of profanity showing how upset she really was. "Now, Jeff," she finished.

"I need to speak to the General, first." But he wound down when his Clan Queen glared at him and tried to pull him. "Okay, but I really do need to talk to him."

"I'll tell him. Now, Jeff – please," his Queen pleaded, both Caitlin and Diana taking an arm to help him into the Healing Chamber.

Jeff sighed, knowing he might just as well give up. He turned, and allowing them to help, stepped into the chamber, sat and laid back as the mist and the forcefield hid him.

"My Queen, his wounds are easily healed. He will be fine."

"Thank you, Ship," Diana responded, her tension easing a little.

Turning to Nat, who was now sitting on a bench, Diana walked over and sat beside her. "You okay?"

Nat took a shaky breath, her face pale, and perhaps a little green. "There is bone sticking out," she said, her voice shaking as she gulped to hold back her gorge. "What happened?" she managed.

Diana put an arm around the girl. "I don't really know, but I felt... something. I think that he thought ... he was going to die. It wasn't a clear thought, just that I knew that something bad had happened to him. Something ... I never want to feel again." Her voice strengthened. "He's back and the Ship will heal him," she tried to assure her sister-wife – and herself. "Now, what about a ginger ale for you? That might help settle your stomach."

"I ... yeah, that sounds good."

Nicki, who had been standing near, listening, took off toward the lounge at a run, and was quickly back with a glass of ice-cold ginger ale. Whitney sat beside Nat, putting an arm around her shoulders.

"I guess I made a fool of myself, huh?"

"Take another swallow," Diana directed, "The ginger will help ease your stomach. And no. You did not. That's a gruesome injury. I can't imagine how he got it."

Whitworth stepped through the hatch in time to hear what Diana said. "I just watched the Security recording. He got it saving his pilot," the big man said, nodding toward the other Healing Chamber.

"The Range Sergeant saw most of it and I just reviewed the Security camera recording, but that was taken from a distance. The Sergeant said that he heard a loud noise, then the helicopter hit a rock face. It and the Daisy Bell fell off the mountain. The Colonel, holding the pilot, also fell off, but separate to the copter. The Ship caught them. What kind of injury does the Colonel have? Did any of you see it?"

"I did," Nat quietly admitted, then disgustedly, "but I threw up without even trying to help my husband."

"Much of the flesh of the fingers on his left hand is torn off as well as parts of his palm, with strands of flesh hanging and lots of bone showing," Caitlin answered. "He also has at least one severe cut on his right thigh."

The General glanced at Jeff's healing chamber as he replied. "The recording isn't clear because of the distance and angle, but the Sergeant said the Colonel was carrying the pilot, so I suppose ... he was probably using his left hand to keep from sliding down that rock face. At least, that's my guess. I've ordered the recording sent to the base for enhancement. It should be back in a few hours."