Page 3 of Emma's Element

Marcus munched on another energy bar as he waited, shoving the trash in his pack. Soon enough, another voice shouted down to him. “Sir? I’m Graham Whitaker with the Nighthawks. Give us a minute to set up, then we’ll climb down to you.”

“Got it,” Marcus called. In no time, two men had joined him on his outcropping.

“Mr. Rayne,” said the taller of the two. “I’m Graham. This is my brother David. We’re going to get you stabilized, then figure out a way to get you out of here. I can see your leg is broken,” Graham said, crouching down next to him and opening a bag with a red cross on it. “What else?”

“Shoulder,” Marcus hissed as Graham checked out his leg.

“Ah, I see it now. Dislocated. You in pain?”

“What do you think?” he asked, without malice.

Marcus grunted an agonized chortle and Graham smiled. “Yeah, stupid question. Okay. I’m going to start an IV and get some pain meds in you. You allergic to anything? Any medications?”

“No, nothing.”

“Good.” After Graham had inserted the needle and securely taped it, he pushed in some pain meds. The relief flowed through his veins, warming him; before long, he was able to breathe a little easier. He studied the men who’d come to his rescue. Graham’s dark blond hair was combed to the left, and a short beard covered the lower half of his face. His brother, David, had similar features with hair a little longer than Graham’s. Ice-blue eyes observed him with confidence. Marcus relaxed, aware he was in good hands.

Graham gave the medication a few minutes to take effect before examining the broken leg again. He removed a supply of bandages from his pack and wrapped the leg, stabilizing it. Marcus gritted his teeth through the pain. His shoulder received similar treatment. David worked with the other members of his team up top, communicating with Graham intermittently.

“Okay, now that we’ve got you stabilized, it’s time to get out of here. Just hang tight a few more minutes while we set up the ropes for the basket.”

Marcus nodded. “Can you tell me . . .” He stopped and cleared his throat, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Can you tell me if there are a lot of people up there? Besides your team, I mean.”

“Sorry, man, but yeah. Word traveled.”

“Shit,” he hissed.

“My Nighthawks are professionals,” Graham informed him. “We’ll shield you as much as possible. After we get you to the top, we’ll bring in our helicopter to fly you to the hospital. The rangers will have to move the crowd back for that.”

Marcus nodded and closed his eyes. Thankfully, the pain meds knocked him out, and when he opened his eyes again, he was strapped into the basket and flying through the air. Graham and David were hanging from ropes on either side of him to stabilize the contraption. When he was finally on solid ground at the top, the rescue team, the Nighthawks, had surrounded him, shielding him from the nearby crowd, and Marcus was grateful.

As they waited, Marcus listened to the banter between the men. The teasing and good-natured ribbing back and forth spoke clearly of the camaraderie between them. He felt an uncomfortable twinge of envy.

Graham knelt down next to him again. “You doin’ okay, Mr. Rayne?”

“Please, it’s Marcus, and I’m good. I can’t thank you guys enough.”

“No thanks necessary. It’s what we do.”

“I heard the ranger call you guys’ Nighthawks. Is that the organization you work for?”

“It’s the organization I run. Nighthawk is a facility where we train groups in search and rescue techniques and certifications. The guys here with me are all trainers at Nighthawk. And when needed, we help on rescues like this one.”

“Fascinating,” Marcus mused. “You all seem pretty close.”

“You have to be when you depend on each other.” Graham paused and glanced around at his men. “The Nighthawks are some of the best men I’ve ever worked with.”

“You are very lucky to have friends like that,” declared Marcus. What he wouldn’t give to be a part of a group like that.

“Absolutely. Couldn’t do what I do without them.” Graham looked up at the sky. “Finch is almost here.”

“Finch?” Marcus asked.

“Our helicopter pilot,” Graham explained. “Ready to get out of here?”

“Yes and no,” Marcus lamented.So much for a rejuvenating vacation.

“Let’s get these people back,” Graham shouted to the rangers after getting to his feet. “Helo inbound.” Marcus could hear the approaching helicopter and felt the rotor wash as the pilot hovered over them. Soon, the basket that held him safely was hooked up to another pulley system, and he was flying again. Looking down at his rocky perch, he could just make out the purple flower. His future may have been uncertain, but just like that intrepid flower, he vowed to live life reaching for the light.

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