The Fallen
Abigail levels out at about five hundred feet as the jungle below becomes a blurr of emerald and grey. I remain in the right seat, my eyes glued to Abby's instrument panel. I should rush back. I should check him myself. But I carried him to the plane. I realized then that he probably wasn't in there.
At a time when we should be cheering at the top of our lungs of our escape from the Yanomami, the scene is silent save the rumble of Abigail's twin engines.
I feel Jerry's course correction as we head back toward civilization. He taps the fuel guages a couple of times.
"Jake, I need you to make a quick visual inspection of the wings to see if there is any damage. I don't feel anything in her controls so far but I just want to make sure."
I don't move. There isn't any reason to inspect the wings. Can't do anything even if there is something wrong.
"Come on, Jake. I need you."
"Fuck it."
"It is the difference between us making it all the way back or us having to put her down somewhere for a quick repair. Just go and look."
I don't know if he is doing this just to take my mind off of Lou, or if he really needs me to look. I play along.
As I emerge from the cockpit I see Antonelli holding Lou's wrist. There is blood outlining his upper body on the cargo deck. Chris moves his fingers ever so slightly and cocks his head as though he hears something. Then... nothing. He drops the wrist and it hits the cargo deck like a pork chop on a butcher's block. With a swipe of his hand Chris closes Lou's eyes.
A quick look at the wings reveals nothing. I call up to Jerry over the roar of the engines, who waves back in acknowledgement.
Ollie is on the deck, slouched as he rests against the contour of the fuselage. He is spent. Abigail takes a bump or two as we catch turbulence and Ollie winces in pain. When I see this the wound in my back overcomes the fading adrenaline and I am on fire. There is a new bundle of rags that Jerry must have picked up on one of his runs. I pull a couple from the tighly packed block and throw one Ollie's way.
"You better put some pressure on that leg wound."
I fold my rag into a nice little square. The wound in my back is almost to where I can't reach it. I manage to get the rag on top of it, then join Ollie on the deck with my back pressed against Abby's skin. The vibration somehow numbs the pain... but that isn't good enough.
"Chris... "
He turns, wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt.
"There should be a first-aid kit up front."
He stands and makes his way forward. I see him lean in and ask Jerry. A quick gesture and Antonelli reaches behind the right seat. He looks in the open bag and says something to Jerry again. I can see him nod, and then Chris steps back into the cargo bay. He sits on the deck next to us and opens the bag wide.
"You sure this is it? Tequila?" He picks up a few bottles of pills, "Ketamin? What is Ketamin?"
"Is there any morphine in there?"
He drops the Ketamin and fishes through the kit.
"Morphine Sulfate... 200MG?"
"Those will do. Give us both one."
"Just one?"
"It's fucking morphine. We'll try one first."
Fifteen minutes later the edge is off and it is harder to lean on the bulkhead. I feel like a puddle. Ollie taps my head with the tequila bottle for a quick guzzle, but I wave him off.
All I can do is stare at Lou's body. It seems impossible that he is dead. How do you kill Lou? The guy makes Rambo look like Betty Crocker. In the past month or so he has shot down a couple of planes, a few trucks, sank a pirate ship, killed dozens of bad guys, hundreds of crazed natives, been in countless shootouts with just about everybody. I've seen him tangle with a wrestler in the Arizona desert, with pirates in the Caribbean, with drug dealers in Modoc. He is the only person to ever have really shot me and almost killed me. Bastard. I have smoked a bale of Walkers with him, drank a huge family of Muerte Verde Skulls with him, spent tens of thousands on parties with him, met lifelong friends with him. I learned that today was a good day to die.
The morphine is closing my eyes. I have pushed the tree trunk that is Ollie off of me twice now where he has slouched down on top of me. Finally, with great effort, I manage to push him over the other way completely. I see Chris checking his wound. The last thing I remember is the sound of duct tape and its application on Ollie's leg. Chris has covered Lou's face with the grenade vest... the grenades now gone with the last fight. There are clean rags beneath him where the blood had been. And that is it. Darkness and the mumble of a morphine haze takes me deep inside myself.
The bump of a landing wakes me from my coma. I don't know how long we have been flying, where we landed, or for a moment... what had happened. Then I see Lou's body and it all comes back.
"Awe... shit."
Ollie nudges me.
"I thought it was a bad dream." I gesture to Lou's body.
"El está muerto, mi amigo." He rumbles.
"Yep... he sure is."
Jerry spins Abby around and he cuts the engines. I can hear him setting switches and then he walks back down into the cargo bay. When he sees Lou's body he stops and sighs... shaking his head.
"Awe shit."
I nod.
He has known Lou the longest. He had traded with him for years before I met him. But their relationship wasn't quite as intense as ours. Aside from our gold run to Mexico City, the KOZANOSTRA battle, and this little jaunt to pick up Chris, their friendship was more along the lines of bartender and customer.
"I hate to say it," Jerry starts, "But I don't think Lou would have wanted it any other way."
No one says anything, but the question is there.
"I mean... he died in battle saving another man's life. He is like the fucking Klingons, man. "Today IS a good day to die".
He lets the quote fall into silence.
Jerry holds up a couple of Walkers that he found in the cockpit. "I think we should smoke awhile in his honor."
The Walkers are sparked up and the four of us pass them around. One would have been fine, but I think we are trying to get as wasted as fast as we can in Lou's honor.
"That bastard could party."
"Oh yeah... "
Chris coughs hard on an exhale and then moves with a jolt, staring at Lou's body.
He passes the Walker, never taking his eyes off of him.
"Good shit." Ollie says, gesturing at Chris.
"Nancy boy." I tell him.
"Oh HELL no... "
Chris rushes over to Lou's body and tosses the vest aside.
"Chris... come on man, nothing is going to bring him back." Jerry calls to him. "Don't torture yourself."
Antonelli shakes him at first, then gets more frantic.
"Hey, man, leave him the fuck alone." I try to stand, but my morphine legs won't hold me.
Jerry gets up and goes over to him. Chris takes a couple of good slaps at Lou's face. Now Jerry is the one that gets physical and punches Chris in the side of the head, knocking him off of Lou's body.
"He's moving, man... he is fucking MOVING." Chris yells at Jerry.
We all focus on Lou's body and wait. Moments pass as we hold our breath, then we see his eyes flutter beneath his eyelids.
"Shit."
Jerry uses his thumb and pulls up his eye lid. The eyeball beneath it is moving wildly inside the socket.
"That has to be some kind of body reflex." As Jerry says this, the eye snaps to and is directly lined up on him.
"Jesus." Jerry scoots back.
"Hey... isn't breathing."
Chris looks at me and then at Lou. He doesn't hesitate. Within seconds he is giving Lou the breath of life just as Lou had done for him back in Colombia. After a couple of breaths from Antonelli his chest rises and falls on it's own.
Jerry bolts from the plane, yelling and screaming for "MEDICO".
Antonelli opens Lou's other eyelid and both eyes track with his every move.
"You in there, Lou?"
One of the eyelids closes for a long moment and then opens again. A wink.
I laugh and can't stop until I am crying. Ollie laughs with me. At first Chris thinks we are laughing at the two of them. But then he realizes it is just our overwhelming relief.
We already know that there is only a shit hospital here in Puerto Barrios. But with the arrival of Chris' helicopter, his mother, and two of his attorneys, Lou and Ollie are wisked away to a better treatment center.
I will go to the local doctor, the one that treated Jerry and Lou after KOZANOSTRA sank. Hopefully we will hear from Chris shortly. In the mean time, we wait.
At a time when we should be cheering at the top of our lungs of our escape from the Yanomami, the scene is silent save the rumble of Abigail's twin engines.
I feel Jerry's course correction as we head back toward civilization. He taps the fuel guages a couple of times.
"Jake, I need you to make a quick visual inspection of the wings to see if there is any damage. I don't feel anything in her controls so far but I just want to make sure."
I don't move. There isn't any reason to inspect the wings. Can't do anything even if there is something wrong.
"Come on, Jake. I need you."
"Fuck it."
"It is the difference between us making it all the way back or us having to put her down somewhere for a quick repair. Just go and look."
I don't know if he is doing this just to take my mind off of Lou, or if he really needs me to look. I play along.
As I emerge from the cockpit I see Antonelli holding Lou's wrist. There is blood outlining his upper body on the cargo deck. Chris moves his fingers ever so slightly and cocks his head as though he hears something. Then... nothing. He drops the wrist and it hits the cargo deck like a pork chop on a butcher's block. With a swipe of his hand Chris closes Lou's eyes.
A quick look at the wings reveals nothing. I call up to Jerry over the roar of the engines, who waves back in acknowledgement.
Ollie is on the deck, slouched as he rests against the contour of the fuselage. He is spent. Abigail takes a bump or two as we catch turbulence and Ollie winces in pain. When I see this the wound in my back overcomes the fading adrenaline and I am on fire. There is a new bundle of rags that Jerry must have picked up on one of his runs. I pull a couple from the tighly packed block and throw one Ollie's way.
"You better put some pressure on that leg wound."
I fold my rag into a nice little square. The wound in my back is almost to where I can't reach it. I manage to get the rag on top of it, then join Ollie on the deck with my back pressed against Abby's skin. The vibration somehow numbs the pain... but that isn't good enough.
"Chris... "
He turns, wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt.
"There should be a first-aid kit up front."
He stands and makes his way forward. I see him lean in and ask Jerry. A quick gesture and Antonelli reaches behind the right seat. He looks in the open bag and says something to Jerry again. I can see him nod, and then Chris steps back into the cargo bay. He sits on the deck next to us and opens the bag wide.
"You sure this is it? Tequila?" He picks up a few bottles of pills, "Ketamin? What is Ketamin?"
"Is there any morphine in there?"
He drops the Ketamin and fishes through the kit.
"Morphine Sulfate... 200MG?"
"Those will do. Give us both one."
"Just one?"
"It's fucking morphine. We'll try one first."
Fifteen minutes later the edge is off and it is harder to lean on the bulkhead. I feel like a puddle. Ollie taps my head with the tequila bottle for a quick guzzle, but I wave him off.
All I can do is stare at Lou's body. It seems impossible that he is dead. How do you kill Lou? The guy makes Rambo look like Betty Crocker. In the past month or so he has shot down a couple of planes, a few trucks, sank a pirate ship, killed dozens of bad guys, hundreds of crazed natives, been in countless shootouts with just about everybody. I've seen him tangle with a wrestler in the Arizona desert, with pirates in the Caribbean, with drug dealers in Modoc. He is the only person to ever have really shot me and almost killed me. Bastard. I have smoked a bale of Walkers with him, drank a huge family of Muerte Verde Skulls with him, spent tens of thousands on parties with him, met lifelong friends with him. I learned that today was a good day to die.
The morphine is closing my eyes. I have pushed the tree trunk that is Ollie off of me twice now where he has slouched down on top of me. Finally, with great effort, I manage to push him over the other way completely. I see Chris checking his wound. The last thing I remember is the sound of duct tape and its application on Ollie's leg. Chris has covered Lou's face with the grenade vest... the grenades now gone with the last fight. There are clean rags beneath him where the blood had been. And that is it. Darkness and the mumble of a morphine haze takes me deep inside myself.
The bump of a landing wakes me from my coma. I don't know how long we have been flying, where we landed, or for a moment... what had happened. Then I see Lou's body and it all comes back.
"Awe... shit."
Ollie nudges me.
"I thought it was a bad dream." I gesture to Lou's body.
"El está muerto, mi amigo." He rumbles.
"Yep... he sure is."
Jerry spins Abby around and he cuts the engines. I can hear him setting switches and then he walks back down into the cargo bay. When he sees Lou's body he stops and sighs... shaking his head.
"Awe shit."
I nod.
He has known Lou the longest. He had traded with him for years before I met him. But their relationship wasn't quite as intense as ours. Aside from our gold run to Mexico City, the KOZANOSTRA battle, and this little jaunt to pick up Chris, their friendship was more along the lines of bartender and customer.
"I hate to say it," Jerry starts, "But I don't think Lou would have wanted it any other way."
No one says anything, but the question is there.
"I mean... he died in battle saving another man's life. He is like the fucking Klingons, man. "Today IS a good day to die".
He lets the quote fall into silence.
Jerry holds up a couple of Walkers that he found in the cockpit. "I think we should smoke awhile in his honor."
The Walkers are sparked up and the four of us pass them around. One would have been fine, but I think we are trying to get as wasted as fast as we can in Lou's honor.
"That bastard could party."
"Oh yeah... "
Chris coughs hard on an exhale and then moves with a jolt, staring at Lou's body.
He passes the Walker, never taking his eyes off of him.
"Good shit." Ollie says, gesturing at Chris.
"Nancy boy." I tell him.
"Oh HELL no... "
Chris rushes over to Lou's body and tosses the vest aside.
"Chris... come on man, nothing is going to bring him back." Jerry calls to him. "Don't torture yourself."
Antonelli shakes him at first, then gets more frantic.
"Hey, man, leave him the fuck alone." I try to stand, but my morphine legs won't hold me.
Jerry gets up and goes over to him. Chris takes a couple of good slaps at Lou's face. Now Jerry is the one that gets physical and punches Chris in the side of the head, knocking him off of Lou's body.
"He's moving, man... he is fucking MOVING." Chris yells at Jerry.
We all focus on Lou's body and wait. Moments pass as we hold our breath, then we see his eyes flutter beneath his eyelids.
"Shit."
Jerry uses his thumb and pulls up his eye lid. The eyeball beneath it is moving wildly inside the socket.
"That has to be some kind of body reflex." As Jerry says this, the eye snaps to and is directly lined up on him.
"Jesus." Jerry scoots back.
"Hey... isn't breathing."
Chris looks at me and then at Lou. He doesn't hesitate. Within seconds he is giving Lou the breath of life just as Lou had done for him back in Colombia. After a couple of breaths from Antonelli his chest rises and falls on it's own.
Jerry bolts from the plane, yelling and screaming for "MEDICO".
Antonelli opens Lou's other eyelid and both eyes track with his every move.
"You in there, Lou?"
One of the eyelids closes for a long moment and then opens again. A wink.
I laugh and can't stop until I am crying. Ollie laughs with me. At first Chris thinks we are laughing at the two of them. But then he realizes it is just our overwhelming relief.
We already know that there is only a shit hospital here in Puerto Barrios. But with the arrival of Chris' helicopter, his mother, and two of his attorneys, Lou and Ollie are wisked away to a better treatment center.
I will go to the local doctor, the one that treated Jerry and Lou after KOZANOSTRA sank. Hopefully we will hear from Chris shortly. In the mean time, we wait.
posted by Jake Allen at 5:37 AM
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