Everett, Pa. The smouldering wreckage of what was apparently a
private plane was found late yesterday evening in the heavily wooded
area north of the city by a young Boy Scout looking for a campsite.
Benjamin Talbot, aged 13, after locating the mangled aircraft,
promptly called local police who dispatched Detective Lieutenant
Nolan Brice, Everett Rescue Squad and FAA investigator Arron P.
Dickson to examine the wreckage.
"It's the most unusual crash site I've ever seen," FAA investigator
Dickson told local newsmen. "There's no evidence of wings or tail
assembly. The fuselage is also of a strange design."
Detective Lieutenant Brice, after checking with the airport tower at
Everett, and with CAP officials, informed newsmen that no private
aircraft had been reported in trouble, or even over the particular
area in which the craft was found. "Of course," Lieutenant Brice
added, "one plane may have gone unnoticed. This is highly unlikely,
but we cannot overlook the possibility. What is puzzling, to me, is
that the aircraft has not been identified and there have been no
bodies found."
"The Civil Air Patrol," Mr. Dickson commented, "has been most
cooperative and are now engaged in an air search of the area, while
rescue squads work in the mountains."
Mr. Dickson went on to state that the mystery crash will be
thoroughly investigated by authorities in an effort to determine the
make and model of the plane, as well as the fate of its occupants.
At present, the crash site has been roped off and placed under guard
by local Militiamen. Only authorized personnel will be allowed to
view the wreckage. Major Gilbert Donnoue, of the Air Force
Experimental Wing, refused to make a statement as to whether the
plane was of Air Force origin. "To my knowledge, we have lost no
test planes. However, an extensive check will undoubtedly be run to
verify this."
Test plane? Nick stared in amazement at the words that leaped at him
from the printed page. Test plane? What the hell was going on in this
screwy world? No wings? No tail assembly? No Mayday calls? No record of
the plane? The whole damned thing sounded ridiculous. Coupled with the
fact that he had been out of touch for thirteen months, it all became
weird.
And to top it all off, Nolan Brice was one of the men who had been
placed on the investigating staff at the crash scene. Suppose he, Nick,
had left something at the scene ... a fraternity pin, a slip of paper
... anything that would link the crash to the fact that he was alive and
in Everett. The whole damned bunch would be on his tail, before you
could say, "Jack Robinson." He...
"Nick," Beth pouted. "Will you pay a little attention to me for a
change?"
"I'm sorry, honey, but it's the plane." While she listened he read the
account aloud and, when he'd finished, they exchanged glances. "That's
the plane I was in," he told her.
"But you don't know how to fly."
"I must know, unless someone else flew it. That's the plane I woke up
beside. I must have been in the damned thing. But I don't know if anyone
else was." He buried his face in his hands.
"Nick. Should we call the police?"
"No!"
Alarmed at his violent outburst, she put her hand on his shoulder to
comfort him. "All right dear. I'm sorry."
"It'd been different, if those men weren't after me. I'd call the police
if they weren't dogging my tracks. I'd turn myself in just to find out
what the hell's going on."
"Me too," she said softly.
At first he didn't catch the meaning behind her words, then he blinked.
"What?" He asked.
"The car, the black one. It followed me to work this morning." She
paused, then added, "It didn't follow me home though."
Nick slammed the paper to the floor, his lean jaw muscles knotted in
anger. "That settles it," he snapped. "I can face whatever I'm mixed up
in, but there's no earthly reason why you should be subjected to it!
I'll have to get out!"
Beth threw herself into his arms, the ever ready tears welling in her
eyes. "No, Nick," she pleaded. "Whatever it is, we'll fight it. We'll
make out, but darling, don't leave me again!"
He held her tightly against him, his hands stroking the warm softness of
her back and spine. The perfume of her hair filled him with a heady
thought of summer fields of flowers, of sweetness and tenderness, of ...
love. Love. Nick Danson, he told himself, you _are_ mixed up. You're
falling in love with your own wife.
"... and we'll go away," Beth was whispering in his ear. "We'll pack
everything and go far away, where we'll never see these men again. Nick.
Please. Oh, please keep me with you."
"Going away won't settle anything, sweetheart. They'll always be there,
just outside the door. I've got to do something..."
He broke off suddenly and it flicked into his mind like a film of the
past, like a memory. The soft face of the girl, her hair a golden color
against the backdrop of the ochre mountains ... the softness of the pale
blue-green tree... She spun away from him, the loose, filmy blue dress
whirling about her trim ankles ... then she was coming back to him, arms
outstretched ... kissing him lovingly...
He shut it off, clamped it from his mind. A memory! A memory that made
no sense at all. A tremor of fear ran along his spine and trembled in
his flesh. What did it mean? What was happening to him?
"Nick?" It was Beth. "What is it, Nick? You look pale and frightened."
"Nothing. We'll go away."
She beamed. "I know just the place. The cabin. Far up in the mountains.
No one will know we're there. We'll learn to love each other again."
"You have to work," he pointed out.
She nodded. "That's true, still _you_ could go up there and try to
puzzle this all out. I can come up in the evenings, and on weekends."
"Might be a good idea," he admitted, thinking that at least, he'd be
safe from prying eyes.
"Then it's settled. You go sit somewhere and I'll get things packed."
She whisked away, almost running up the stairs to pack some things for
him. He walked to the kitchen, without turning on a light, and poured
himself a glass of water. Outside, through the window, he could see the
twilight fading into evening, the heavy purple clouds of night sweeping
steadily across the sky. A star winked later and he knew it. Venus. He
stood there in the darkness and picked out many of them as they
flickered into being. Mars. Sirius, Vega and others. There were...
* * * * *
... She came into his arms and talk was insignificant and quite
unnecessary. The soft, white arms wound about his neck, tugging fingers
pulled playfully at his hair and she smiled at him. His lips moved down
against hers and they were lost in themselves. He could feel the taut
pressure of her breasts playing against his chest and the firm roundness
of her thighs working against his.
Her strong fingers worked against the muscles of his shoulders, pulling
him down onto the cottony moss beneath the strange tree. The small
litheness of her body molded into his and his hands stroked her breasts
beneath the filmy cloth that covered them. Her hands moved upward to the
straps that swept over her shoulders and pulled them down. His eager
fingers helped her, working the straps down until the firm mounds of her
breasts lifted their rubbery, coral tipped nipples toward the sky. His
fingers worked them, kneaded the warm muscles, while his mouth worked on
hers. When he had released her lips, she pulled his face down into the
twin cushions of her breasts. His hand moved against the flesh of her
thighs, caressingly...
* * * * *
"Ready, dear?"
It was gone. Like that. A sudden flickering memory of some long vanished
event that might have given him some hope. It had been fantastic again,
the strange colors and the weird landscape, but he wanted it despite
that. She had stolen it, ripped it viciously from his mind; but she was
not to blame. He turned and smiled at her as she came into the kitchen.
She had turned on a soft light in the front room, but had allowed the
kitchen to remain dark. In the half-light of the room, he thought that
she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. It would not be hard
to love her, he thought again.
He reached out and took her by the shoulders, pulling her gently against
him to kiss her. Her mouth moved against his, satiny with desire, until
they parted.
"I'm ready, if you are," he said.
"For what, darling? The bedroom, or the car?"
He chuckled. "The car. The bedroom will keep until we're up in the
woods."