Page 81 of Survive the Night
With a terse nod, he sped up and turned south. Hurry, hurry, hurry! Sarah thought desperately. If the helicopter would only follow them, then Gordon’s property might not be bombed. The bunker would likely withstand a blast, just like Otto’s had, but the workshop certainly would not. She clutched Xena tighter, willing the snowmobile to go faster.
Wind whipped around them as the helicopter flew lower. Otto wove back and forth, heading across the yard and toward a wooded area east of the house. There was a loud, fast thump-thump-thump, and the snow kicked up around them.
Someone in the helicopter was shooting at them.
As the realization hit, Sarah hunched over Xena, trying to cover as much of the dog as possible. Otto turned abruptly, swerving and dodging in no discernable pattern. The small part of Sarah’s brain that hadn’t been consumed by terror assumed that Otto was in defensive mode now, and evading bullets was his only goal.
Sarah peered around Xena and Otto, blinking as wind and kicked-up snow immediately made her eyes water. If they could get into the trees, that would provide some cover. They could cross the property and ram through the boundary fence, leading the helicopter away. It wasn’t a good long-term plan, but it would keep everyone safe for a little while, at least.
There was a movement in front of them, catching Sarah’s attention. The door of the outhouse bunker entrance swung open. No! Go back inside! her brain screamed as a tiny figure appeared. There was only one person that small who’d been in the bunker.
Dee.
Dread and horror squeezed all the air out of Sarah’s lungs as she saw Dee walk out of safety and into danger, holding something bulky in her arms.
“Dee!” Sarah screamed, not knowing if she was yelling at the little girl or warning Otto. Dee didn’t react, but Otto shouted, “I see her!”
He turned, hard to the right, making a tight half-circle and flying back the way they’d come. Instead of heading toward the workshop, he steered the sled back to the open expanse they’d just left—away from Dee. He zigzagged back and forth, trying to dodge the bullets, and Sarah leaned into each turn. A strange calmness settled over her. There was no way to get out of this now. She couldn’t throw a knife at a helicopter and bring it down.
The helicopter circled around in front of them, the light shining directly on them like a spotlight. It felt like they were in the laser sights of a gun. There was no way that the shooter could miss them now, no matter how many turns Otto made. At least they’d led Aaron’s men away from Dee and the animals and the rest of the people in the bunker. Hopefully, they’d be okay.
Something flew over them, barely clearing their heads. Otto stiffened, and Sarah stared at it—whatever it was. It appeared to be a tiny plane, but that didn’t make any sense. Sarah was sure that her fear and the dim lighting was messing with her perception.
“What is that?” Sarah yelled.
“Not sure!” Otto didn’t slow but continued driving toward the object. It rose higher, flying directly toward the huge black beast of a helicopter. Otto banked left, turning again, giving them a tiny bit of breathing room before the helicopter caught up with them again. The tiny plane-like object trailed behind. When Otto steered right, the helicopter followed. The small flying object lifted higher, allowing the bulk of the helicopter to pass under it. As soon as it passed the main rotor, the little plane darted down—right into the tail rotor. There was a loud clattering sound, like a bolt caught in a high-powered fan, and Sarah hunched instinctively again. The helicopter sounded different, and she risked a look up and back. The remains of the tiny plane fell from the tail, where the rotor hung, useless and mangled. The helicopter started to turn, spinning in place like a top. It swung in crazy loops, heading toward the ground—and getting closer and closer to them.
The wind whipped the snow into a blinding blizzard around them. Sarah squeezed her eyes closed and tucked her head down. The snowmobile shot forward.
“Hold on!” Otto shouted, his words barely audible over the noise. The helicopter sounded so close that Sarah didn’t want to look. She knew it was almost on top of them.
The sled flew, skimming over the snow so fast it felt like they were hovering above the ground. Sarah turned her head. She had to look. It had to be worse to feel the helicopter coming down on top of them without seeing it.
It wasn’t. Seeing the huge shape spinning over them, its main rotor moving so fast it was just a circular blur, was horribly, indescribably worse than just imagining it. Sarah screamed—at least, she thought she did, sound lost over the roaring wind and the engine and the thumping blades.
The helicopter spun in drunken circles right above them, dropping lower and lower until Sarah ducked, feeling as if it was close enough to graze the top of her head. The noise was terrible—shrieking and groaning and thumping—as the machine tumbled toward the earth.
The snowmobile went faster and faster, flying weightlessly across the snow as the helicopter turned in endless circles right above their heads. It tipped, the tail touching down first, hitting the ground right behind them with a boom loud enough to rival the bombs. It swiveled on the ground, whipping around toward them as it toppled over onto its side, the main rotor digging into the earth as it tried to keep spinning. The helicopter turned, the broken tail swinging toward them like a shattered baseball bat, and Sarah screamed again, not able to look away. The snowmobile engine shrieked as Otto pushed it to its highest speed.
They flew. There was no other way for Sarah to describe it. Like a stone from a slingshot, they crested a small hill and rocketed through the air, snow flying around them. The runners hit the ground with a bounce, and the sled shot forward again, earthbound this time.
Gasping for breath, Sarah looked at Otto’s back and Xena and her own snow-covered self. How could they still be alive? How were they not crushed by the downed helicopter? It had been so close to them—how had it missed?
Twisting around, Sarah looked behind her at the wreckage. The helicopter was on its side, the main rotor detached, flung far across the yard.
“Otto!” Sarah shouted, delight rising in her as she realized that they’d survived. Death had been so close, so sure, but they’d somehow managed to outrun it. Keeping one arm locked around Xena, she grabbed a handful of Otto’s coat. “You’re amazing! I love you and your driving skills!”
He slowed, looping around so that they were facing the downed helicopter. As soon as they stopped, Sarah kneeled on the seat, reaching over Xena to hug Otto’s shoulders. He wrapped his arms over hers.
“I can’t believe it,” she cried, staring at the wreckage as she squeezed him tighter. “Did I mention that you’re an excellent driver?”
His laugh boomed out, shaking his body, and Sarah clung to him, basking in the feel of him, of his joy and sheer alive-ness. So many times, she’d thought they were going to die, but they’d made it through. All of them had survived the horrible, endless night.
The helicopter cabin opened, and someone stumbled out, slogging through the snow toward them. Another person was slumped over the controls, either unconscious or dead. As Sarah watched, she saw the man who’d emerged from the helicopter reach into his jacket and pull out a pistol.
“Gun!” Sarah shouted, releasing Otto. She sat back down and wrapped her arms around Xena. As Otto sped up, Sarah twisted around to look at the man. He stopped and lifted the gun, and Sarah could finally see him clearly.
It was Aaron.
