Message-ID: <21813asstr$945202201@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: "Todd Sayre" Subject: {ASSM} "Charlie's Prayer: A Love Story" (inc/b/f/cons/suspense) Lines: 1104 X-Original-Message-ID: <835hfj$9so$1@nntp9.atl.mindspring.net> X-Server-Date: 14 Dec 1999 13:42:11 GMT X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V4.72.3110.3 MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=iso-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit Date: Tue, 14 Dec 1999 15:10:01 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: Vulpine, dennyw Dear Readers, Hold on to your hats. As most of you already know me, you know that I am always trying something new on you in these newsgroups and once again I have done just that. I don't know if anyone has ever tried what your about to read. But the following story is a novelette. It was written with multiple characters and this is not my typical kind of post. This is a long story and it took three days to write. So if you have time to read, pull up a chair. There will be suspense, adventure, love and heartache. I am sharing this with you as a Christmas gift to all of you who have supported me over the months. I truly hope you will enjoy it. If you do, please drop me an email. I worked very hard on it and I shed a few tears of my own along the way. Todd M. Sayre December 10, 1999 Corona Del Mar Chapter 1 Fifteen year-old Charlie Caswell felt his seat rumble and rock—his teeth chattering from the ominous motion, those gut retching climbs and drops like a wild roller coaster cresting the creaking rafters which rose and fell like timber mountains. He felt his gorge rise but managed to choke it down. For one horrifying moment he felt they wouldn't make it. His father, Blake Caswell and his thirteen year-old stepsister Ashley held on tight—strapped to their seats with the sweat flowing. The Cessna 172RG descended through the murk of the May storm which had hampered their attempt to make it to Anchorage, but one rogue lightning bolt sliced through the sky in a brilliant flash and had struck the engine cowling, causing the engine to sputter and cough—gagging to dead silence. The avionics had been fried and there was no communication with the tower at Fairbanks, but Blake Caswell tried earnestly, "Fairbanks this is Cessna five-niner Tango declaring an emergency!" Nothing but static. Charlie thought that his father's transmissions went no further than the plane. Four thousand feet and dropping. Blake reached for the lever that controlled the flaps. He lowered twenty degrees and the flaps extended. He tried to restart the engine but got nothing in return. "Daddy, I'm scared!" Ashley cried. "I know baby," He said trying to be comforting, but the fear in Blake's own voice betrayed him. "We're gonna make it. There's a lake over their. I'll try to put her down in the water ... it'll be rough, but we'll make it. Three thousand feet. Blake ordered his son into the back seat with Ashley and told them to hold on. Again the turbulence provided by the jagged peaks of the mountains(thank you very fucking much) bounced them up and down. The Cessna was too close to some of those mountains. He was afraid that they would clip one and end up splattered like bug shit on the windshield of a car, but his father managed to bank left and away from the peaks, then in sweet and desperate relief, the plane glided past the mountain range and descended in to a valley. Snow had littered the peaks, but the valley floor was green and placid, but that observation didn't make Charlie feel any better—they still had to land—had to survive. There were trees everywhere and no flat, smooth surface to set the crippled 172 down, but only that solitary space that his father spied at four thousand feet, but now their altitude was bleeding and they were now at one thousand six hundred feet above ground level. Charlie's heart hammered furiously as Blake lined the nose of the Cessna up with the center of the lake. Applying the last of the flaps, Charlie saw his father reach for the landing gear lever, then stayed his hand. They were going to belly land on the water and Charlie knew that if the gear was dropped their chances of surviving wouldn't be good. Charlie couldn't believe this was happening. The day had begun joyfully. His father, Ashley and he had set out to Anchorage to pick up his grandfather—then onto the Bering sea for a little fishing, but then the sudden onset of an Arctic storm had settled over them and the jet-stream had buffeted them like a doll in a dogs mouth—then that misshapen finger of electricity had slithered out from a cloud and fried the engine. Now they were fifty feet off the ground and flew into the lake's perimeter. Blake kept the wings level and flared the aircraft. The nose of the plane rose and gravity sucked the doomed Cessna into the water. The plane splashed hard, the port wing tore away and Charlie and Ashley struck the seats in front of them—Blake hit the yoke and his neck snapped with a sick crack—then the airplane cartwheeled and came to rest in an inverted position. Water began to fill the cabin. Charlie was dazed, but when he felt the frigid water bathing his head he got hold of himself and undid his seatbelt—falling to the roof of the plane. He got Ashley to come out of her own daze and quickly undid her belt. She began to cry. Charlie tried to wake his father ... but he dangled in his seat—his head wobbling loosely. He was dead. With no time to grieve, Charlie tried to push the door open, but the water pressure kept it tightly shut. "SHIT!" He tried to kick the window out, but there was no room in the confines of the plane to maneuver . Charlie knew that if they were to get out, they would have to let the plane submerge and partially fill, then the pressure would be equal and the door would open with ease. It didn't take long for that to happen. "SHUT UP!" He told his sister—the sister that loved playing her Back Street Boys CD over and over, the sister that stroked her hair with a brush one hundred times before bed, the sister that had loved to play with her kitten she called Quincy, the same young stepsister that had been infatuated with him since their parents met and married. As the water rushed into the cabin, Charlie reached behind the last seat at the tail of the plane and withdrew two medium sized duffle bags. "Please Charlie, I don't want to die ... I don't wanna die!" Ashley cried hysterically. "Shut up and follow me!" He yelled. Charlie lifted the door lever when the water was chest high. He pushed it and the door gave. He held the two duffle bags in one hand and his sister in the other. They both swam away from the wreckage and surfaced—taking gasping breaths of air. From the west, Charlie could see the hateful storm that had brought them down, that had killed his father and it was now almost on top of them. Sheets of rain could be seen in the distance and Charlie could see the flickers of lightning. Ashley cried bitterly as they swam to the southern shore of the lake. Charlie had to set up shelter and get a fire going before hypothermia set in. Chapter 2 Edward Caswell looked toward the horizon searching for the landing lights to his son's Cessna. All he saw were the bright lights of the Boeing jets as they approached, one by one. Alaska Airlines, Northwest(probably on its way to Red Square) Korean Air and a variety of smaller jets and single engine planes, but no Cessna 172RG with its black and gold striping. He lifted his baseball cap and scratched his head absent-mindedly After an hour came and went, Edward Caswell went to the FSS(Flight Service Station) and informed them that his son and grand kids were long over due. The man behind the desk—a scraggly old geezer who looked like he had been sniffing terpentine—looked up and smiled a toothless grin. "Can I help ya?" He said. Grandpa Ed told his story of his son's missing plane. The Alaskan hillbilly got on the phone and called the tower. The air traffic controller searched their radar for the Cessna—found nothing—then radioed the Cessna's call sign only to be hailed by static and the voices of other inbound and outbound pilots. The tower called the FSS back and told him the news. Blake Caswell had filed a flight plan prior to leaving Fairbanks, therefore they would know when the flight began, calculating wind and ground speeds and get a general idea of where they were. The toothless man picked up the phone and alerted the FAA that a flight was missing—then he called the Air Civil Patrol. Chapter 3 Charlie had gathered enough wood and kindling and started a large campfire. As Ashley sat on a large rock by the fire warming herself, Charlie began to inventory the contents of the duffle bags. One four-man tent, waterproof matches, flashlight, four small votive candles, Sterno, field mess kits, first aid supplies, emergency water and dehydrated food packs. He also found a hatchet, Swiss Army knife, compass and the .45 holstered Glock with two clips, which he fixed to his belt, the gun his father kept for emergencies as well as the flare gun with three ready to use cartridges. He even found a heat sealed bundle of polyester blankets and inflatable pillows. Dad had always prepared for the worst and when you lived in a third world state where there was more wilderness than civilization, you needed such supplies even if you were just flying around the city for the day. Charlie believed they could survive—they had to. He began to cry softly for his father as he unfolded the tent and began erecting it. He couldn't believe his father was gone. He felt as if his heart was teetering on the edge of a massive blade. He swallowed a sob and continued sliding the fiberglass poles through the grommets. He secured the tent to the ground with plastic stakes. He laid out the blankets, inflated the plastic pillows and then joined his sister on the rock, warming himself as much as he could before the rain began to fall—smothering the fire. He wrapped his arms around Ashley's waist and held her tight. The weight of emotion and the crushing pain of grief consumed him and the sobs that had been hiding in his gut surfaced and began to cry. Ashley joined him as she laid her head on his chest. The wind began to blow bringing the chill of Antarctica down upon the valley—the sky which had been colored a metallic grey was now a dark ash. The rain began to fall in fat drops, pelting the earth. Charlie urged Ashley into the tent, but when she stood to her feet she fainted. Charlie caught her before she could hit the rock they had been sitting on and carried her to the tent where he laid her on the blankets. The fire had radiated enough heat to warm them. He pulled her damp clothes off stripping her naked—he was immediately impressed with her body—the soft curves of her breasts, the wiry pubes concealing her sex and her slender thighs. Charlie's penis began to grow, but he cursed himself as guilt swam across his broken heart—remembering that his father was at the bottom of the lake wearing a plane. He stripped himself of his wet clothes and slipped under the covers. He pulled Ashley's tender body toward his and held her tight. Together they shared body heat and as soon as Ashley was safely tucked into her brother's arms she began squeezing him in return. They rain continued to fall and the wind moaned. On the lake, the sound of an eagle or a hawk shrieked, piercing through the storm's voice. Charlie stroked Ashley's back and listened to the drumming of the rain. He planted a kiss on her forehead then surrendered to sleep. Chapter 4 "The fucking plane's missing! How much clearer can I be?" Grandpa Ed hollered at the FAA official. "Well sir," the stocky G-man said, "Maybe they put down somewhere. After all there is a storm blowin just north of here. Your son most likely saw a good piece of dirt and landed to wait out the weather." "Or maybe they crashed and are waiting for rescue. Did you even bother checking with the Coast Guard to see if they've received an ELT(Emergency Locator Transmitter)signal. They could be injured and meanwhile you've got your head way up your ass and giving me shit. Every minute could mean the difference between life and death and if they're hurt and something happens to them I swear by Sonny Jesus something will happen to YOU ... you fucking idiot!" "Now just a minute mister, you can't insult me like that! Do you know who I am?" The G-man said. "Yeah ... a sack of shit in a cheap suit!" Grandpa Ed replied. Grandpa Ed turned on his heal and left the musty office of the FAA official. He returned to the FSS and used the telephone. He got directory assistance and requested the number for the Coast Guard and dialed the number. Chapter 5 Seven hours after they had fallen asleep, a powerful detonation rocked the sky—waking Charlie and Ashley. He lit a candle. Ashley realized that she was naked ... realized Charlie was too. She could feel the size of his dick pressing against her. She lifted her head and looked into Charlie's eyes. Those electric-blue eyes met her gaze. She remembered meeting Charlie for the first time at Morgan's Dine and Dash with their parents. She had fallen in love with him almost immediately. Her heart throbbed excitedly as her mind imagined that she was in his arms and they were dancing to the slow rhythmic sounds of a Mariah Carey song, their eyes locked on each other, his breath scented with mint as they danced—the world ceasing to exist in that moment—his fingers brushing away her blush. She could imagine the story that his beautiful eyes, those soulful eyes conveyed. She was entranced by his hypnotic gaze and by the time her imagination led her to that fairy tale kiss, her mother waved a hand in front of her face. "Jesus, Ashley!" She said. "If you stare any harder your apt to peel the skin off of poor Charlie!" Charlie blushed, but she had seen common interest in his eyes. As they sat in the booth Ashley drank in all his features. He was almost six feet tall. He had the most beautiful feathered blonde hair and such exquisite facial complexion—and those eyes, those incredible eyes—if given the chance, Ashley was almost certain that she could see her future in them. Here in the Alaskan bush a million miles away from the rest of the world, in a tent laying naked beside her step brother—Ashley saw that same prophetic glance in his eyes and for the first time since being woken by the crash of thunder, she was now acutely aware that Charlie was stroking her cheek. She could feel his once limp dick now hard as a rock and poking against her vagina. She held onto him tighter, but never left his fixed look. Her heart began to race as she felt she was on the verge of letting go—letting her mouth connect with his—then she had thought of her mother and her now deceased father, sleeping with the fish, thinking she can't do this. Charlie was now her brother, but he had only been her brother for almost a month. Nevertheless, her heart rocked in her chest and her mind went weak and before she could move, Charlie moved in. He pressed his lips to hers and for the first time Ashley melted into a heap. Chapter 6 He couldn't resist his feelings. Ever since meeting her at the diner, Charlie was pissed that his father had to fall in love with Ashley's mother. When he saw how beautiful she was, every bell in his head went off and his cock duped him. It grew painfully hard in his jeans and if anyone looked down they would've notice the massive package he kept in his pants. He was grateful when they all sat down at the booth. That same package was present in their tent, his body pressing against her—his penis stiff and jammed against Ashley's sex. He could feel her pubic hairs tickling the head of his cock. He was aware that Ashley knew his cock was in the right place. He felt her press in tight. Then that singular line that had been drawn the day his father and her mother exchanged "I do's" was now being crossed. He leaned in and planted a kiss on her mouth, feeling the softness of her lips—much like the silky feel of rose peddles, her skin perfectly soft and warm. Charlie didn't care anymore about the line. His father had been killed in the crash and the line ceased to exist. Ashley could be Charlie's fair and square, no holds barred. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and probed. Their passionate mouths blended and merged as one, warm lung air redeemed, two hearts beating rhythmically. Every movement his mouth made over her's made Charlie's penis grow a little bigger. Much more of this and his cock would no longer look like your average dick, but a balloon ready to pop. As he kissed her, as he felt her angelic body against his, he could feel the tingling in his heart—in his soul. He couldn't believe that this was happening. This morning Ashley had been his sister, now that his father was under the lake and wearing a plane, the covenant between husband and wife had been broken and Charlie was not going to let this girl get away. He let his promiscuous hand gently glide down Ashley's side, feeling her breasts and their stiff nipples. He surrendered to his desire and turned her onto her back. He laid over her and was now kissing her neck. She excepted every advance he made, moaned as his lips graced her neck, sending a reverberating shudder through her. His tongue traced circles on her skin. Almost every day since meeting Ashley, Charlie had consumed her in every way imaginable as he laid on his bed and masturbated to the memory of her face. Charlie had prayed fervently, hoping that he could have her, to bed with her and appreciate her with everything that he had within him—Charlie prayed that his father wouldn't marry his stepmother Hannah—how he had wanted to be with Ashley more than anything, but Charlie's prayer had never been answered ... that is until now. It took the death of his father to fulfill his dream and now he was living his fantasy. He propped himself up—grabbed his cock and began searching for that blessed entrance that would secure his destiny. Charlie was a virgin. Trying to find his way around her body was difficult. But she solved his problem. She took hold of his cock and helped him. She lifted it to the right spot, then he did the rest. Charlie pressed forward and his penis began sliding in, fractionally at first ... then slid the rest of the way until he felt a very thin, membranous partition. Ashley grunted as he pushed deeper—then she cried out in pain when Charlie tore through her Hymen. He began to pull out, then thrust inward. The tightness that engulfed his cock was a sensational experience. That warmness and her moist vagina sent an electrical thrill coursing through him. He was almost certain that he had died in the plane crash and was now in heaven. He had developed a cadence to his pumping groin, thrusting wildly, making Ashley cry out erotically to every greedy push of his engorgement. He was now sweating profusely and panting. Ashley was gasping and mewling as he drove his flesh deep into the center of her soul. "Charlie! Oh God!" She cried out. Chapter 7 "Charlie! Oh God!" Ashley exclaimed. She had never in her thirteen years experienced such pleasure and pain mixed all into one. To have his penis hard and in her made her want to cry joyfully. She was feeling that wonderful thrusting that seemed to belong inside her and she wanted this night to last forever. She felt the hands of passion grasping at her—pulling her into a world of sweet bliss—ambling through the halls of love, gracefully entering the garden of ecstacy. She felt the sting of her tears welling up on her eyes. She was going to cry. Not because of grief or fear, but her heart had been filled with Charlie's love and adoration. She had felt incomplete ever since she had entered puberty, now she was whole, alive and filled to the brim with Charlie. She couldn't get enough. She wanted him to thrust harder, to drill deep and gasp loudly, panting her name until she either fainted or was caught in that net that God created for lovers. Charlie pushed and pumped, hammered and pounded. She could sense a much different form of orgasm beginning to river through her. She was now aware that she was being rocked by a sizzling orgasm that welled up—making her cry out in ecstacy, feeling the rapturous climax—the event of the year. As she gasped louder, Charlie pumped faster, then she could feel his warm liquid shooting into her. She reached up and seized his hips and shoved him into her instinctively, wanting more of that heavy penis to push through her, wanting that flood of his seed to fill her womb. Chapter 8 Charlie rocked in and out as fast as his fifteen year-old body would allow. He was out of breath and sweating like a stuck pig. It surprised him when she reached up and grabbed his hips—pulling his groin deeper. She had wanted him more than anything and he knew. Her clenching hands revealed her secret love for him and he was truly thankful to God for answering his prayer. The tightness that her vagina had on his cock reminded Charlie of the time when he was nine years-old. He and his cousin Eric were in the garage of his uncle's house down in Juneau one summer afternoon, alone for a few hours when the twelve year-old dared him to let him suck on his dick. Being gregarious, Charlie consented. Eric pulled Charlie's pants down to his ankles, his underwear following. Eric got down on his knees and wrapped his lips around his hairless dick and started sliding his mouth back and forth until his cock stood erect—then had that incredible orgasm that swept him away. Charlie had enjoyed it so much that he let Eric suck on him most of that day—inflicting one glorious climax after another. Eric enjoyed sucking on his cock that he did it to Charlie even when they were in the dark and ready for sleep. That had been one of the best summers of his young life. But now considerably older, Charlie began to feel that powerful orgasm that had been hiding since Eric had showed him what it was to have one—his muscles began to harden, his toes throbbing and now he was groaning, mewling as he began to ejaculate—streams of white come squirting in persistent strings. Charlie was held hostage by the peak of passion that a second orgasm rippled through him. More of his seed passed into Ashley and she too appeared to be in the midst of her own fulfillment. When the last of his sperm shot out, Charlie collapsed onto Ashley, planting loving kisses on her mouth. They both labored to breath. This had been the most intense night of their young lives that neither would forget. Both had walked into the path of death only to emerge into the valley of life, the scent of passion on both—stained with the loss of their innocence—each losing their virginity to the other. Chapter 9 Hannah Caswell sat nervously on the commuter to Anchorage. She feared the worst. She was terrified that she would be told by authorities that her whole family had been killed. It had been hours since Blake, Charlie and Ashley had been heard from. She prayed diligently that they were alright, but deep in her heart she knew that the Grim Reaper had come and gone—she felt it. A search would get under way in the morning once the storm had passed and god-willing ... they would be found. She reasoned in her mind that she could live with all of them being injured in some way—just as long as they lived and recovered. She bit her lower lip then began to cry as terror washed over her like a tidal wave. Hannah wept as the twin engine turbine flew over the dark world below, not knowing that at that precise moment, twenty thousand feet away her new husband was wearing a plane at the bottom of a lake—on the shore of it, her stepson was pumping sperm into her daughter. Chapter 10 At about seven AM, Lt. Commander Harold Myers cranked over the engine to his Dauphin helicopter. He had been a good pilot and enjoyed serving the Coast Guard at the Kodiak Island station. He had been in and out of the Alaskan bush, retrieving victims of climbing disasters, plane crashes, hunting accidents and over the water he'd put his expert flying to good use and pluck stranded fishermen out of the icy Bering Sea. Today was no different. His superior officer had given him another assignment. Search for a small plane and listen for the ELT signal as you go. But flying over a vast Alaskan wilderness and searching for a small plane was like looking for a needle in a hay stack. If there was just some remote chance that their onboard equipment could find the signal, then chances were good in finding the wreckage. But finding the occupants alive was a totally different thing. "Morning Hal!" Lt. Alex Wilcox said cheerily. "Gonna be a nice day today!" "We can enjoy it while we find some people." Harold replied. He briefed his crew as they lifted off and headed north. They would join an armada of aircraft flying the common route from Fairbanks to Anchorage and vice-versa—covering as much ground as possible. Chapter 11 Twenty feet deep in the cold waters of the lake, the Cessna's ELT pinged away. But the density of the water muffled its transmission range. Nevertheless, the ELT's battery would last seventy-two hours straight. It was triggered the moment Blake Caswell eased the aircraft onto the water, then down right crashing. As search and rescue teams flew over the land, the ELT pinged and pinged ... waiting. Chapter 12 Charlie and Ashley had awakened to hungry stomachs. It had been twenty-four hours since their last meal. Charlie opened one of the duffel bags and went through their food supply. Ashley emerged from the tent and came up behind him. She wrapped her arms around him and planted a kiss on his cheek. Charlie smiled and returned her love with a kiss of his own. "Hungry?" "Starving!" She said. "What's for breakfast?" "Well you have your choice of cream of wheat or bacon and eggs." "I'll have bacon and eggs." As they hydrated the food they spoke of what would happen next—what the plan was. "First thing we do," Charlie said, "is gather more wood. Then we try to make another fire. It won't be easy. The rain soaked the wood pretty good." "Shouldn't we like pack up and hike out of here?" "No. We have to stay put. I used to be in the Cub Scouts. They taught us that when your lost in a forest you stay put ... that is if somebody is looking for you. My dad told me if our plane ever went down the crash would activate some signal that would help rescuers find us. So I think that our best chance is to stay put. "Besides, I'm hoping we could go back in the tent after we collect fire wood and pick up where we left off last night." Ashley giggled. He loved her joyful laugh. He loved to see her smile. He loved her. "I would like that, Charlie." They ate their breakfast in silence, contemplating all that had happened. Charlie thought of his father being at the bottom of the lake and he felt guilty over being alive, making love to his sister and here he was, eating hydrated bacon and eggs and getting ready to get laid again. Charlie was almost certain that Ashley was thinking the same. He looked at her. She looked lost—faraway in the depths of the land of regrets, but he believed that those regrets were not of the love they had shared during the night, instead he believed he saw Ashley reliving the final moments of their flight, guilty over not saying "I love you daddy" or giving him one last kiss. She had warmed up to Blake Caswell and adopted him as her father. Their were tears streaming down her cheeks now—sadness etched upon her beautiful face. Charlie wrapped an arm around her as she began to weep bitterly. He joined her. Chapter 13 They had collected enough wood to keep the fire burning bright and hot. Although the storm had passed during the night, the Alaskan frontier remained bitterly cold. When Charlie got a new fire blazing they were able to leach away the chill from their bones. He unzipped the tent's storm flap and allowed the fire's radiating heat to warm the blankets. He tossed a few more logs of wood into the pit of flames for good measure—then went to Ashley and took her in hand. When they got back into the tent, Charlie kept the storm flap wide open to let the fire warm them as they undressed. After all this wasn't a KOA camp where they would be spied on by horny teens trying to get a thrill by watching two people fucking. They were all alone. The only audience they had were birds, squirrels, dear and perhaps a moose. They both stripped naked. Charlie got hard quick when he got a chance to really check out Ashley's body. She was so perfect in every detail. Her thighs were slender, but firm. Her breasts were still full and perky and her hairy mound inviting—her butt so beautifully formed that Charlie wanted to taste it. She groaned with delight when he buried his face up her ass and began licking her tight rectum, sketching wet circles around her puckered pink hole, tasting her and inhaling her youth as he feasted. Charlie could feel Ashley go limp as his tongue relaxed her. She murmured dreamily as she entered into another domain, a domain rich in love, a domain so sweet and filled with such intensity that the mere lickings of Charlie's tongue had slipped her into the mouth of the monster she knew as an orgasm. Charlie could feel and smell those pussy juices wafting up like the scent of a rose, permeating his nostrils with it as he fingered her—still licking her hole. When he turned her onto her back, Charlie planted himself between her legs and began parting the hairs that covered her crack. Again those juices seemed to call to him—alerting his senses that he was welcome in the land of milk and honey. He kissed her cunny lips with adoration, then parting them with his tongue. She moaned erotically as he shoved as much of himself as he could and now he was tasting her. The moisture and her pheromones compelled him to lick harder and deeper—desperately seeking something, but oddly enough he didn't know what. All he knew was that her sex was calling and his mouth was answering. Ashley arched her back as a spasm of ecstacy greeted her body. She cried mildly and grunted when Charlie's lips connected with her cunny lips once again. He could feel the power of the orgasm that sent her into convulsions. Her thighs flexed and tightened and soon she cried out when the climax assaulted her. Then as quickly as the orgasm had arrived, it had departed and Ashley went limp. Chapter 14 It watched. It stalked them. It could sense and smell them. They were encroaching upon its territory and it intended to have them. It would lie low for now and acquire them soon. But the time was not right ... but soon. It would strike when they least expected it ... when they were mating. It could smell her female stink. It could also smell the male stink as well. It was reminded of the male that tried to kill it, but it had escaped—but returned to the male's camp during the night. The male who tried to kill it never left the camp ... ever. Soon it would be back for the male and the female. It's stomach rumbled and its maw chewed with anticipation. Soon—very soon. Chapter 15 The Dauphin helicopter flew low, scanning the land for signs of the Cessna—but thus far their search for wreckage or the signal had proved futile. Lt. Joseph Dougherty had flown with Commander Myers for three years and each time they went in search of survivors or signs of disaster, Myers always found it. Sometimes the results didn't have a happy ending ... sometimes they did. A dad and his two kids were out there—somewhere. He imagined what the family was feeling right now knowing that three of their loved ones were missing, not knowing if they were alive or dead. Dougherty vowed he would do his best to find them. They had covered over two-hundred square miles when Dougherty heard the faint signal of something. He wasn't sure what it was, but he surmised it could be the ELT signal they had been looking for, but the pulsing sound was strange—preternatural. He couldn't get a lock and didn't know which direction the signal was coming from. He told Myers. The chopper hovered in place for a brief moment—shifted three-hundred and sixty degrees trying to pin point the direction—but the signal was elusive. "Can't capture the fucking thing!" Dougherty said defeated. "What do you mean you can't capture it?" Myers replied. "It's either there or it ain't." "Commander I agree, but I just can't get a lock." "Al get on the horn and see if the C-135 can get a lock on that signal." Myers ordered. "Aye Sir." Dougherty manipulated the dial to his electronic equipment. The signal rose and faded, but he couldn't get a fix on it. "Commander?" Wilcox reported. "The C-135 also has the signal, but they advise they can't get a bearing either." "Shit." Myers muttered. "Okay listen up! Joe here's what we're gonna do. We'll mark our present location with GPS—then fly fifty miles in every direction until we capture the signal. It'll either get stronger or weaker ... but we'll get it." "Commander we're low on fuel." Wilcox said. "Right." The red and white Dauphin flew off to the north toward Fairbanks, before continuing the search, but the day began to fade. Off to the west, angry clouds loomed over the horizon and Dougherty knew that time was running out. A new storm was coming. He had heard the forecast. If anyone was alive, their chances of surviving a late Winter Snow shower with minimal or no provisions dwindled by the hour. Chapter 15 Thrusting and grinding, Charlie panted hard—his legs trembled as another orgasm gripped him. He began shooting another volley of come into Ashley, making her groan in delight. Charlie's groin felt as if an entire bag of lit Kingsford charcoal had been attached to his cock. The intensity that he felt in his loins swallowed him whole. He couldn't believe that love and sex could be so sweet—two bodies blending as one, writhing under the blankets like a sack of Timber Rattlers, humping and thrusting, the sweet song of eroticism being sung in the Alaskan wilderness. Charlie was happy—at least for now anyway. He pushed into Ashley several more times, allowing the streams of sperm to die into history, then he laid beside her—gasping and sweating. They faced each other. Each of them had the look of bliss on their face and Charlie wished that he could live in this state forever. But he knew he had to face reality. If and when they were rescued, Charlie wondered how things would be. Would he be sent to live with his grandpa while Ashley and Hannah moved on with their lives leaving Fairbanks? Charlie feared that that could happen. He loved Ashley and to be separated for all eternity was unacceptable. He was only fifteen, but he would do his best to keep Ashley as his own. When Ashley fell asleep, Charlie dressed and left the tent. He put more logs into the fire and watched as those fingers of flame consumed the wood. The worry had returned to his heart. He felt more fear of the possibility that he could lose his first and only love as a result of what had occurred. He sat on the rock and watched the flames as he began to utter a solemn prayer. "Dear Lord," he whispered, "I know that I haven't been the Christian you wanted me to be and perhaps I don't deserve my prayer answered, but I'm hoping your their and listening. "I'm sure you saw what Ashley and I did last night, but it wasn't lust, Lord. I really love her. I would die for her. All I'm asking for is a miracle ... some kind of miracle. Just to be with her excites me. My heart trembles when I smell her wearing her perfume. Is it so wrong to be in love? I never touched her or made it known to her that I was in love with her when my dad was alive, but maybe she saw it in my eyes or on my face, but I kept my distance. When I took her clothes off just after the crash I did it because they were wet and she would have wet the blankets. We needed to get warm. Your God. You should know what my motives were yesterday. I can only hope you'll somehow touch Hannah's heart and allow Ashley and I to be together. My dad's with you now and their is nothing that could be immoral about being with her. The moment my father died, Ashley stopped being my sister. "Well Lord, I guess your a pretty busy guy and you got other prayers to listen to so I'll check out for now until the next time. Oh P.S." Charlie began to sob and cry as he uttered his final words in his prayer, " ... um if its not too much trouble ... I-I was wondering if you could tell my dad ... Um that I love him and miss him and that he was the best father in the world. Amen." Charlie wiped the tears from his eyes. He took a long twig and poked at the fire as he remember all the fun times he had had with his dad. The trips to Disney World, the hunting trips and the jokes they shared. Now he was orphaned. He lost his mother to cancer years ago and now he had to face the pain of remembering the crash. He poked another log in the fire and a plume of red embers drifted skyward. Charlie looked up and saw the wall of dark clouds. Another fucking storm! He thought. The sun was beginning to set toward the west and a cold breeze accosted him—sending a chill through him. Charlie was uncertain that their would be rescue today. They had plenty of water. But only so much food. But then he began to seriously think about being rescued only for Hannah to take Ashley away. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be rescued. He would talk to Ashley when she woke. For now he would return to the tent and nap. Chapter 16 It watched the male thing sitting by the fire. It wanted to rush out and snatch the male thing, but it feared the fire. But it's stomach rumbled and shifted in it's belly. Soon. Soon he would feed. It senses that the rain will come. It knows that rain hates fire and the rain will kill the fire. When the rain comes it will eat. It will start with the male thing first. Chapter 17 Ashley awoke from a bad dream. She sat up and watched Charlie sleep. She looks at his face, his gentle features and the hair she likes. Charlie had licked her ass and licked her vagina and the feeling of both had caused her to drift away to another world. He had proved how much he loved her and she had been happy. But she was plagued by curiosity. For almost a year she wondered what it was like to suck on a dick. Ever since her best friend, Eliza Harris had told her she gave a boy head in the school restroom, Ashley began to wonder. Here was her opportunity. Charlie was laying on his back, although he was wearing his clothes(she wondered why)she could gently unzip his jeans and pull out his cock. Ashley believed that by trying Charlie's dick while he slept would help. If she didn't like it, if it tasted bad or she got grossed out she wouldn't hurt his feeling—god forbid, that was that last thing she wanted to do. She arranged the blankets so the only his groin was exposed. She unzipped his pants and pulled his underwear down gently. Charlie murmured in his sleep, but did not wake. She touched his penis carefully. It felt incredibly soft and warm. It was flexible enough for her to play with it, but she felt that she might wake him. She rested her head on his belly ever so gently and sniffed the slumbering penis. No smell. So far so good, she thought. She kissed the head and ran her warm tongue over it. No discernable flavor. Excellent! She thought. She opened her mouth and let his penis slide in until she had it all in her mouth. She ran her lips back and forth slow at first, but once she decided she could really enjoy sucking on his cock, Ashley developed a faster pace and Charlie's cock awakened. Ashley didn't just enjoy sucking, she really loved it. She felt she couldn't get enough and she vowed that anytime Charlie wanted a blowjob her lips were willing. She glided her mouth back and forth, tightening her grip on his dick—squeezing her lips on his flesh and milking him hard. Charlie awoke from his sleep and began breathing hard. Every time she ingested his cock, Charlie would push his groin into her face making her gag. But she held on. She wasn't afraid to taste his sperm. Last night when Charlie fell asleep, she stuffed a finger inside her vagina and scooped some of his spunk and tasted him. It was slimy and salty, but tolerable. She wanted to please him and right now she was doing a hell of a job. Charlie was moaning and gasping loud lung fulls and that made her feel good. She took hold of his balls and cradled them in her hand. They were soft. Everything about Charlie was perfect. Even his erotic mewling. Ashley could feel his cock pulse, the head bulging. Her neck began to ache when she started sucking faster. That's when Charlie was hijacked by a fierce orgasm and the sperm came flowing. It struck the back of her throat in a torrent and she tried desperately to swallow all of it, but Charlie was extremely horny and so were his balls—they had squirted a heavy dose of his cream into her mouth that it began escaping from the corner of her mouth, oozing down onto one cheek—pooling on Charlie's shirt. Evidence. Monica Lewinsky eat your fucking heart out you fucking bitch! Ashley thought. She wanted to laugh. What would her mother think if she knew that she had Charlie's come inside her belly and up her twat? She didn't know but it would be interesting nonetheless if she ever found out. She continued to milk him hard and the flood of boy cream continued to spew. She drank and drank happily. Charlie was grunting and still gasping as he was torn from the world and plunged into the land of boners. When Charlie's come subside and was catching his breath, Ashley decided to lick his cock and swallow his balls. She was really captivated by his penis that she didn't want to stop. She licked the shaft tracing a wet line of saliva from the head all the way to the bottom of his balls. Charlie hissed as if being burned with a hot poker when Ashley stuffed both balls in her mouth. Although she was a virgin to all things sexual—Ashley wasn't sure what to do. She felt foolish with his balls in her mouth as if waiting for something to happen. She let them go. Because the sun had set behind the mountain range, the tent(with the exception of the fire providing light)was plunged into darkness. Ashley was grateful that Charlie couldn't see the beet red blush that colored her face. She snuggled beside him. He planted a kiss on her lips and tasted some of his own come that was still on the corner of her mouth. "Charles Caswell 1999. Fine year for sperm," he joked smacking his lips. She laughed at his joke then looked past him and saw something that caught her off guard. She sat up. "Oh my god!" Chapter 18 They had flown over more land before they called it quits for the day. The sun had set and the land was near plunged into darkness. The storm they had been watching had finally arrived in all its glory and as predicted, snow and not rain fell. Lt. Commander Myers hoped that if the people he was looking for were alive—he prayed they were equipt to handle the weather. In the meantime they would have to seek shelter in Fairbanks, or end up out in the bush themselves in a crash of their own. The wind was getting stronger and the Dauphin was being buffeted by turbulence. Dougherty never did lock in the signal and they needed to cover two more directions. He hoped that the storm would blow through by morning in order to resume the search. The visibility was getting worse by the minute. Myers switched to IFR(Instrument Flight Rules) and navigated by instrument. He hoped they would make it to safety before the storm got worse. Chapter 19 It was on the move. It created a wake when it tore through the thicket of pines. It was eager. It was hungry. It began to run. The fire was dying down not because the rain was killing it, instead the cold clumps of snow that it hated were smothering the flames. It was dinner time. Chapter 20 "Oh my god!" Ashley said. Charlie turned to look out the screen when he saw the snow flakes gently drifting down. "No No No!" He said angrily. He stored his penis back into his pants, zipped and got up and went outside. Ashley followed. The snow was melting over the fire causing it to die down. Charlie took more wood and piled it on. "Fucking Snow!" He shouted. After a few minutes the fire seemed to be growing. Charlie heard a loud snap from behind him—a thick snap much like a sizeable branch being split in half. That's when Ashley screamed. Charlie swung his head fast and caught sight of the thing that made the snapping sound, the thing that made Ashley scream. "F-Fuck me!" Charlie croaked in terror. He drew the .45 Glock from its holster that was on his belt. He pointed the weapon at the grizzly bear that was now on its hind legs. It roared its venomous, hateful clamor. Charlie took aim—fired and ... nothing happened. He squeezed the trigger once more. Nothing. Then he remembered the safety. Pushed the tab and took aim once more and this time the gun discharged. The bear was now only five feet but did not stop. Charlie fired another round and saw the bullet tear through the grizzly's pelt close to its neck. The grizzly stopped its advance and roared again. Charlie fired twice more missing both times. He had never fired a gun in his life and didn't know how to aim properly. He hated himself in that moment for never learning. Charlie noticed that the bear was foaming at the mouth. The fucking thing was rabid. This made the grizzly more dangerous and daring. He thought about firing again, but after missing three times, he thought it better to wait. The bear remained stationary—its angry roar chilling him to the bone. Charlie started looking for Ashley. Couldn't see her. Began to worry. Then saw her standing behind him, her arms around his waist trembling in fear. The adrenaline had been pumping hard and coursing through his veins that he didn't even feel her clutching him. Charlie screamed at this monster hoping the yelling would scare it away, but only seemed to anger it further. The bear took another step—then began to charge. Charlie opened up on it and fired multiple shots. Ashley screamed and silence followed the night. Chapter 21 Grandpa Ed and Hannah sat nervously around the kitchen table. They had been waiting for news—any news, but Hannah was slowly going insane. She worried so much that she had bit almost all of her finger nails. Once they had been long and painted rich crimson, now they were decapitated stubs. "Why doesn't somebody call?" She said tearfully. "Hone you got to settle down some, child. Your apt to faint if you don't. The Coast Guard is on the case and they'll find them." "Oh Ed." Hannah broke down and cried, burying her face into Grandpa Ed's chest. "What if they're dead. What if—" "What if they're alive?" He said encouragingly. "Listen kiddo, one thing I know is that the dead aren't dead until they're declared dead. Don't lose hope Hannah. Remember I have something at stake as well." "But Ed, the storm. Can they survive the cold?" "Has Blake ever shown you his plane or even talked about it?" "He never showed it to me, but he did mention it." "Blake as you know is a tad paranoid when it comes to survival. He even took a survival course down at the rec center down in Cantwell. After he got the plane the man who sold it to him advised him to pack in the survivables. He said it wasn't wise to leave mother earth without them. So he did. He packed in food and water, first aid goodies and blankets and a bunch of other stuff I cant rightly remember, but I reckon if they survived the crash—knowing Blake—they're probably hootin a tune of Row Row Your Boat and roasting marsh mellows." "Oh Jesus, Ed I hope your right." Chapter 22 Joseph Dougherty rested upon his motel bed watching the idiot box. A rerun of Chicago Hope was playing, but Dougherty wasn't paying attention. He kept thinking about that elusive signal—and it troubled him. Something was nagging him at the back of his mind—but what. The signal had been troubling in and of itself. The signal was being emitted in a strange way. He had been to many crashes where Alaskan bush pilots had had to crash land their planes and always the signal was the same—strong and reliable. But this was different. Even hunters out in the wilderness carried hand held ELT's and those portable units were strong enough to get their attention at Kodiak Island, but this was different. He put his troubled mind out of its misery and turned the tv and lamp off. He had to get rest. Tomorrow would be another long day and the search would continue. As Dougherty faded off to sleep he began to think of the cool brisk waters of a Hawaiian water fall, cascading down the side of a cliff—pouring in hypnotic streams down and down pooling at the base. But Dougherty wondered why he was thinking of Hawaiian waterfalls. He'd never even been to the islands, but his mind kept thinking of that gushing water. He figured that maybe his mind was trying to tell him it was time for a vacation, that he'd been working too hard and his mind was gone that he start— Dougherty sat up. Switched the light on. Water. Water. Something about water. His mind was on the verge of an answer. His chest grew tight and his mouth was dry. Water. What the fuck did water have to do with the signal. He wasn't sure, but then revelation struck him and he grabbed his flight bag and began rifling through it. Where? Where was it. He found it and pulled it out. He opened his flight map of Alaska and found what he was looking for. Joseph Dougherty was willing to bet he could limit the possibilities. He got dressed and left his motel room. Chapter 23 The grizzly rushed them. Charlie fired numerous shots, struck the bear six times, but not before the bear was able to claw at Charlie. The beast collapsed. Charlie's gun was empty, but reached for another clip when the bear staggered up and began limping away. Smokey—the bear from hell—disappeared between the pines before he could get the fresh clip in. Then a stinging pain began to flutter through him in brilliant flashes of hot agony. He looked down and saw the bed. He turned to look at Ashley displaying a hand dripping with his own hot blood. Her eyes widened. "Oh God! Charlie!" That's when Charlie fainted. Chapter 24 Ashley ran tried to reach Charlie before he hit the ground, but failed. He hit hard. He had pushed her away when the bear began to charge—then he fired many times wounding the animal. But horror ran through her mind when he held up his hand and showed her the blood. "Oh God! Charlie!" She screamed. The bear had clawed Charlie on his right side. Ashley undid his jacket and pulled his cotton shirt up to reveal a gaping wound close to six inches in length. The cut was deep. Ashley began to cry—hysterical and unknowing what to do—when she Charlie come to. "Charlie! Oh Jesus, Charlie! What do I do. Your belly is torn open." He cried in anguish as the trauma burned uncontrollably, "Ash ... Oh! T-The med kit ... in the duffle bags ... g-get it!" She frantically ran to the tent and retrieved the bags—returned to Charlie who was now being covered by the falling snow. Ashley saw the he was scooping handfuls of the cold powder and putting it over the wound—hoping against hope the cold would weaken the sting of the gash in his gut. Ashley found the first aid kit and opened it. She took hold of the flashlight and got a better look at his injury. It was bleeding enough to pose a new threat. She began to cry even harder as she tore open a 4x4 surgical sponge and wiped at the blood. Then she opened the small red and white box which held the 2 inch x 4 yard gauze stretch bandage—unraveled the spool and bunched it into a tangled ball and shoved into the wound. Charlie screamed and cried his lungs out. Ashley looked around the first aid kit and if she had never seen a miracle, she was seeing one now. There was a syringe and five brown colored vials. Written on them were the words, "MORPHINE." Her mother must have provided her stepfather with the drugs. Her mother was a nurse and had access to such items. One thing she didn't know was how much of the drug to administer. Then she noticed miracle number three. There was a slip of paper wrapped around the syringe. She grabbed it and unfolded it. It was a note written in her mother's hand. "God bless you Mommy!" She cried. Charlie cried hard begging god to stop the pain. That's when they heard wails of the bear not far. Charlie handed the Glock to Ashley. "Keep it. The safety is off. If that fucker comes back aim and shoot." He said through crying sobs. Ashley took the gun and laid on top of the med kit. "Charlie I found Morphine in the first aid kit." "Morphine?" he said crying. "Its a strong pain killer and in a few minutes you'll be better. Please don't die. I love you!" "I'll try not to disappoint you," Charlie tried his hand at humor in spite of his agony. Ashley read the note and got the prescribing dose. She broke the top off the vial and stuck the needle into the liquid—drew four cc's of the drug and injected it into Charlie's thigh. She was crying harder now, almost as bad as Charlie and she went through the kit looking for anything else she could use. She found more surgical sponges, more stretch bandages, surgical tape and scissors and then she saw the silvery foil pack of surgical sutures. She couldn't. But she couldn't let him bleed to death. She opened up another box of stretch bandage and got it ready to apply to the wound. The Morphine was beginning to take effect. Charlie was beginning to quiet. Ashley was scared that he was dying, but remembered the drug. It was a strong one. "Charlie," she said sobbing trying to get a hold of herself, "I'm going to put some stitches in you so that maybe the bleeding will stop. Are you feeling any better?" Charlie had a big smile on his face, "Ooh yeah!" he said cooly. "I'm just feeling fine." "I'm going to sew you up and its gonna hurt." "Ain't no thang!" he said like a like a pimp standing on a street corner trying to rent one of his women to a guy short a few bucks for the asking price. Before she started the half fast surgery, Ashley dragged Charlie back into the tent to get him out of the wind and snow. She pulled out the stretch bandage that was filling the cut and noticed that there was less blood on the gauze. The bleeders were beginning to coagulate. She was relieved. She added another spool of bandage and packed it into the gash. Before she did she got a better look and notice that the bear had not torn into the abdominal cavity—just sliced through the skin and fatty tissue. She packed the wound again and tore open the pack of sutures and needle. She could do this. She'd watched The Operation on The Learning Channel a gazillion times and saw how they sewed up the patients. She just needed nerve. Charlie had fallen quiet and asleep. The drug had sedated him and she was glad, but at the same time she had never felt more alone than now. It took her almost an hour to suture the wound. She did a crude job but at least the wound was closed and she prayed that he wouldn't start bleeding again. She took an alcohol wipe and cleaned the blood off of him. She planted a kiss on his lips and stroked his cheek. "Your my hero and I love you. Please don't die!" she whispered. But her words didn't bring her any comfort. She applied several 4x4 surgical sponges and covered the incision—taped the dressing—then covered him with the blanket. She took the Glock and exited the tent. She carefully scrutinized the tree line using the flash to illuminate the tree line making sure that bear wasn't anywhere close. She saw nothing but snow falling. The air was cold and miserable. The fire was beginning to die down, but she remedied the problem by stacking more wood in the pit. How could all this bad luck keep happening. First the plane crash, then daddy's death, then Charlie's wound. She feared that if they weren't rescued by tomorrow, Charlie could die. Please dear God, don't let my love die. She thought She opened a food pack and boiled water. She made herself some dehydrated Lipton's cream of chicken soup and stood guard—watching—waiting. Chapter 25 The following morning the late Winter storm had passed dumping six inches of slush. The morning sun was already doing a number on it and that encouraged Dougherty. He wanted to prove his theory. He was almost positive he was correct. All those in choppers had gathered around in a circle to listen to Lt. Commander Myers brief them of Dougherty's theory. "Alright folks ... listen up. Lt. Dougherty has come up with a winner. He believes the reason why we can't pinpoint that signal is because its quite possible that the Cessna that we're looking for may have crashed into a lake. That would account for the weak signal and our inability to lock into it. "I'm handing you copies of maps of all the lakes that we didn't check. I want all of you to get down low when you fly over them and look hard. Water can sometimes interfere with the signal. If you find it radio it in and give us the coordinates and we'll haul ass to you. Anybody have any question? No? Ok lets rock!" Five US Coast Guard choppers lifted off from the airport in Fairbanks and headed to the possible locations of the crash. Dougherty also theorized that at the time of the Cessna's flight there had been a storm. It was possible that the winds had blown the little aircraft way off course which would take them way off the preplanned route. Only time would tell. He felt a lump in his throat and a boulder in his stomach. If they did find the wreckage, would they find survivors? He certainly hoped so. Chapter 26 Ashley stood watch during the night. She also prayed. She cried some more and when Charlie awoke in pain, she administered another dose of Morphine. She stayed close to him and kept checking on him to make sure he was still breathing. She gave him all her blankets and stayed close to the fire to keep warm. When the sun rose in the east, she was happy. She could see and watch for the grizzly. She doubted that the grizzly had survived the night, but she nonetheless took no chances. When Charlie woke he felt the pain in his abdomen, but the pain wasn't as bad as it had been. Ashley went to him. She gave him water. "How are you feeling?" She asked. "Like shit, but better." He said in almost a whisper. "Thank god!" She said relieved. "Are you hungry?" "Yeah. Missed dinner last night." He said. Then in sudden fear he said, "The bear! Where's the bear?" "Dead I think. I stayed awake all night watching and listening for sounds of it, but it never came back." "Good." She fed Charlie breakfast and helped him walk out of the tent so he could pee. That's when they heard the sounds of a helicopter in the distance. Charlie leaned against a tree and told Ashley to get the flare gun. She ran as fast as she could and grabbed the gun. She loaded a cartridge into it and waited. Chapter 27 As Myers flew over the mountain range he saw the lake and the valley. Dougherty cried out in excitement, "FUCKING-A I'VE GOT THE FUCKING THING LOCKED!" "Where? Where?" Myers replied "Turn left 090. Right over that lake," As they reached the lake Wilcox saw the flare streak by them. Myers saw it too. "Yeehaw!" he screamed. They descended looking for a place to sit down, but there was no clearing. Myers maneuvered the chopper as close to the south shore where the flare appeared to originate. Then they saw the campfire and a person waving frantically. Wilcox got on the radio and alerted the other pilots that they had found the survivors. "Joe there's no place to set down. I'll get low to the water and you jump. Take your radio with you and assess the situation and report." Myers ordered. "Aye Sir." When the chopper was three feet from the surface of the water, Dougherty jumped into knee high water. He waded toward the shore. The person waving was moving toward him—crying— that's when he noticed the bear running right toward the survivor. Chapter 28 Ashley saw the a crewman jump from the hovering helicopter. He waded through the water and was so relieved that she broke down and wept uncontrollably. But she saw him drawing a gun from his holster. He was shouting something to her, but couldn't make out the words. The loud drone of the choppers blades where biting into the air that it covered any word he was screaming. Then the crewman moved to the side, took a shooter's stance and began firing his weapon. He fired six or seven shots. Ashley didn't understand until she turned a saw the grizzly running toward her in a trot, but each bullet the crewman fired struck the wicked grizzly in its head and fell dead just short of Ashley. She screamed and ran into the water and practically jumped into her rescuers arms. "Its ok sweety. Its over." "You've got to help my br-boyfriend! Please he's hurt really bad!" She said. The Crewman followed Ashley to the tree where Charlie was now passed out. The crewman checked Charlie's vitals and examined his wounds—then withdrew his Motorola walkie-talkie and made his report. A litter carried Charlie up to toward the hovering chopper. When he was secure, he put Ashley in and she too disappeared into the aircraft. Dougherty returned to the dead bear and examined it closely. He noted that the bear had been foaming at the mouth. Rabies, he thought. He scooped some of the foam into a small glass container and stored it in his pocket. Then he too was hoisted into the chopper and was flown directly to the trauma center in Anchorage. They were closer. Chapter 29 Hannah wept bitterly when the call came through. She had learned that Blake had not survived the crash, but her two children were alive and in enroute to the hospital in Anchorage. Grandpa Ed and Hannah climbed into the car and drove the four miles to where they would thankfully meet up with the kids. The Coast Guard in the meantime—they told Hannah—were retrieving Blake Caswell's body from the icy depths of the lake. The small Cessna would be removed as well so the National Transportation Safety Board could examine the wreckage for their report. Chapter 30 Charlie dreamed not a single dream when the surgeons performed the surgery on his belly. He woke two days later in Pediatrics ICU. Ashley was at his side holding his hand. Tears of joy were streaming down her cheeks as she wept, "I love you Charlie." Charlie became alarmed when she said it because Hannah and his grandfather were also beside his bed and had heard her comment. Then he nearly freaked when she gave him a long passionate kiss on his lips. Hannah spoke up finally. "Don't worry Charlie. Ashley told me everything the two of you did. I must admit I was upset at first, but then you nearly died saving my daughter's life. If you hadn't of been their ... if you hadn't taken the wound, Ashley would most likely be dead. So after thinking very hard, I decided that your entitled to have a future with her. Since your father is ... is gone I guess Ashley isn't your sister anymore. Charlie I'm very sorry about your dad." Charlie broke down and cried like he had never cried. Grandpa Ed, Hannah and Ashley surrounded him and cried with him. Epilogue Three months later, Charlie Caswell moved to Anchorage with Hannah and Ashley. He had made a complete recovery, but he would always bare the scar of the love that he shared with Ashley—the scar that he had received while laying his life on the line to protect his love. Charlie also learned that Ashley was carrying his child—concieved in the Alaskan bush. A month later, the justice of the peace pronounced Charles Andrew Caswell and Ashley Meredith Lloyd husband and wife with a handful of family members looking on. Their wedding day couldn't have been more perfect on a sunny September day. On February 27 baby boy Charles Blake Caswell was born to the world and as the doctor handed Charlie his son, he cried as he looked and saw his father in his son's eyes. "Dear Lord," he prayed, "thank you for all that you have done. You allowed the plane to crash and you took my father away from me only to return him to me through my son. I dedicate him to you Lord and pray that you'll make him a strong boy and a loving son to his mother and me. Amen." What Charlie would find out many years later was that God had heard Charlie's prayer and answered it ... God had been their in that forest. God had fashion that terrible experience because he had a couple to bring together—a family that would never part—love that would fail to end and hearts that would always beat as one. The End undersiege69@mindspring.com You can find me on icq #56882888 Visit my homepage at: http://homepages.msn.com/TwentiesCir/toddsayre/index.html This story holds a copyright 1999 by Todd Sayre. -- Sincerely, Todd M. Sayre " ... I'm a man who can hear the angels singin in heaven and the devils screamin in the deepest holes of hell." Stephen King -- If you enjoyed this work, take a moment to email the author. Your comments are their only payment. 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