The Black Stallion and Flame (3 page)

Alec had looked forward to meeting the new owner of these fine horses. The prospect had helped make up for the fact that he and Henry would have preferred flying a more northerly and shorter route across the Atlantic. But air traffic was heavy at this time of year and cargo space in demand, so they had thought themselves very lucky to get space on this plane.

Leaving the groom, the navigator came forward, his face showing signs of nervous strain beneath the bright dome light. “Remove the life vests from under your seats and I’ll show you how they work,” he said.

Henry glanced up and grunted. “Gettin’ wet feet doesn’t appeal to me. Water’s for washin’.”

“Don’t wish us into the drink before you know we have to ditch, will you?” the navigator said sharply.

“I won’t,” and Henry grinned feebly.

The navigator glanced out the window. “This stuff seems to be clearing. The propellers are turning smooth as silk.” He lit a cigarette nervously, betraying his feigned air of confidence.

Alec motioned toward the groom, whose head was lowered as if he’d suddenly gone to sleep. “You’d better wake him up,” he said.

Henry glanced back. “Imagine him bein’ able to sleep with all this noise goin’ on!”

“If it stops he’ll wake up soon enough,” the navigator said. “An engine’s silence is the biggest noise there is.” But he went to the groom and shook him until the man opened his eyes.

Alec listened to the even rumbling of the engines and felt a sense of great loneliness for them all. Nothing
sounded wrong. If anything, the ship had suffered only minor damage in being buffeted by the storm. Nothing was wrong that some gas wouldn’t help. The lack of it was the joker. The smooth, droning engines must be pulling the last of it out of the tanks.

“You’d better put your vests on now,” the navigator ordered, his voice hushed, almost inaudible above the engines.

There was no sense in fooling themselves. They were all afraid. They were ready and prepared for the worst but terribly afraid. The odor of their fear filled the cabin.

“If necessary we might stretch out our run by getting rid of some of our cargo,” the navigator continued. “Anything to lighten our load. It’ll be up to the skipper.”

Alec wiped the moisture from the palms of his hands onto the sides of his pants. He didn’t dare speak. He just looked at his horse and sweated some more. No longer was he sure of himself. His red hair was wet and matted, and he wondered if he’d be able to coordinate his movements when the time came so he could get the horses clear of the sinking plane, too.

Henry slipped the life vest over his head, a sad smile on his face. “If we’re going into the drink I might as well be comfortable,” he said.

Alec smiled grimly at Henry’s remark and put on his own vest. He straightened in his seat and told himself to remain calm. It was all right to be afraid but not to cringe.

“Remove your shoes,” the navigator said, “and any sharp objects on you—pencils, pens, clips, clasps and the like. We don’t want to cut any holes in the raft and, for the life of us, let’s be sure to keep the horses clear of it.
Their hoofs could send it down fast. It would be better to—” He paused and found Alec Ramsay’s eyes upon him. “We won’t leave ’em behind,” he said kindly. “If we have time, we’ll get them clear of the ship. Just keep them away from our raft, that’s all.”

The aircraft sank lower and lower into the depths of the night. There was no further turbulence. No wind screamed. No rain beat furiously against the windows. Only the heavy overcast remained and the plane sped through it, consuming time, consuming fuel. For how much longer? Was there no bottom to this murk to enable them to see what was below?

“We might not have to use these vests at all,” the navigator said, “but we might as well learn how they work.”

“Sure,” Henry said facetiously. “We got nothin’ else to do.”

The navigator didn’t smile. He put his arms through the loops of the vest and pulled the yellow straps tight in front. “Now there are two ways to inflate your vest,” he said, “but don’t do it until you’re out of the ship. If you do, it’ll only slow up your movements and you just might need every second to get clear.”

He looked at each of them and then continued, “The first way to inflate the vest is to pull these.” He tapped two plastic knobs on either side of the vest. “They automatically fill the vest by releasing capsules containing carbon dioxide. Now—”

“If that’ll work why bother tellin’ us about the other?” Henry asked.

“Just in case something should go wrong you can blow air into the vest through these tubes.” The navigator held up the tubes. “Open this valve, turn the lock,
push down the mouthpiece and blow. When you’ve filled the vest let go of the mouthpiece to keep the air in and turn the lock back to where it was. Nothing to it.”

“Nothin’ at all,” Henry agreed. “But I’m not worried so much about stayin’ on top of the water as I am about someone not findin’ us.”

“We’ll use flares,” the navigator said, rubbing his bloodshot eyes, “and we’ll have a hand-operated radio to send out distress signals. It shouldn’t be too long before somebody picks us up and, as I said before, we’ll have everything aboard the raft but steaks.”

Alec glanced at the groom to see how he was taking it. The man had his life vest on and seemed to have himself under better control.

“There are two main exits,” the navigator continued. “This door here, the way you came aboard, and one up forward for the crew. Besides them we have eight escape windows, all plainly marked as you can see. Just remove the plastic cover from the handles,
lift up
and push. No trouble.…”

The plane rocked and Alec’s body swayed with it. He’d been in other emergencies … so had his horse … together they’d get clear … some way. The metal floor felt cold under his stockinged feet and a chill swept over him. For added warmth he pulled the life-jacket straps together in front, thinking how much like a baseball catcher’s vest it was. Now if he could just convince himself that he was getting ready to play ball with the gang … if he could just do that and wait easily for the pitch to come …

The plane swayed again and Alec felt the pressure of its descent in his ears. He caught Henry watching
him. “Land ho!” he yelled jokingly, not liking the sound of his voice at all.

The old man thought,
Alec’s scared but not frozen stiff with fear. He’ll move fast when the time comes. I just hope I can stay up with him
.

The navigator spoke again, his voice more solemn than before. “Better make sure your seat belts are tight. Take this in stride and you’ll be all right.”

Henry grunted, trying to get the seat belt over his heavy stomach and life jacket. “A fat chance I have to get away from the post when you’ve got me weighted down with so much lead. No track handicapper would be allowed …”

The plane broke free of the overcast and below could be seen the tossing black sea.

The navigator went to the flight deck but returned almost immediately. “There’s not much gas sloshing around at the bottom of our tanks,” he told them quietly, “and no land below, so it looks like we’re going to have to ditch. Just remember not to hurry. We’ll have plenty of time. We’ll shove one raft out this door, lower the ditching rope and drop into it. You all okay?”

Alec burrowed his head in the high collar of his life vest and swallowed hard. “Sure,” he said jokingly, “except for my feet. They’re cold. This floor wasn’t meant for going around without shoes. I’ll bet it’s chilly outside.”

“Now I want to tell you something else,” the navigator warned. “There’ll be two jolts when we ditch. The first will be kind of easy and you might get to thinking it’s over—
but don’t
. That’s the time to brace yourself; the jolt that follows separates the men from the boys. It’ll probably go dark then but don’t move until I tell you to.”

“Providin’ we have ears to hear you with,” Henry said grimly.

“Providing I’m there to yell,” the navigator replied, just as grimly. “But the important thing is to keep calm and wait for the ship to come to a complete stop before moving.”

“We will,” Alec said. “Don’t worry.”

“The skipper says for us not to bother throwing anything out the hatches now,” the navigator went on. “What cargo we could move wouldn’t save us any fuel to speak of. It’d be meaningless in flying time and it might only upset our balance. If the skipper can bring us down under control we got a good chance …”

“How good?” Henry wanted to know.

“About fifty-fifty if I remember my manual figures right.”

“Those aren’t such bad odds,” Henry said.

“Nope. The impact won’t be too rough if we keep ourselves strapped. Getting out’s the worst.”

“How much time do we have before the cabin floods?” Alec asked.

“Depends on the sea and how we hit. Ditched land planes have been known to float hours, sometimes days.”

“But they’ve been known to go down fast, too?”

The navigator nodded, his eyes studying the boy. He had to know whether to depend upon him or not. “As fast as three minutes,” he said finally.

“How much time does the manual say it should take us to get out?” Alec persisted.

“About a minute and a half … ninety-six seconds, to be exact. But I think it’ll take us at least two minutes. I don’t know.” The navigator grinned sheepishly. “I’ve
only done this once before and that was in a swimming pool during flight training.”

“I’ve got to get the horses free,” Alec said.

“We hope to, but we might not have the time.”

“I’ll have to take the time,” Alec said.

The navigator wiped his hands on his pants, then he pushed Alec forward in his seat. “Put your head between your legs and clasp your hands under them like this. That’s it. Now tense all your muscles. There, that’s the way you should be when I yell,
‘Brace for ditching!’
You all got it?”

Alec straightened in his seat. “We’ve got it,” he said.

“There’s a packet of green dye in your life jackets just in case we get separated. It’ll stain the water, making it easier to spot you from the air.”

“We won’t need it. We’ll be in the raft with you,” Henry reminded him.

“I know, but just in case—”

“Just in case nothing,” Henry interrupted, trying to grin. “It’s no night to be paddling around alone in the Atlantic.”

The navigator moved over to the life raft and Alec looked out the window again, watching their navigation lights blink alternately like a parade of fireflies. Above them black clouds rose high and billowing but here it was quiet and safe with the plane flying smoothly through the night. Alec didn’t look below at the sea’s angry turmoil. It was enough to know that for a few moments they’d be given peace. The plane flew without a tremor, graceful in flight. There was no rain, no wind to impede her speed, only silence and …

He’d have time, according to the navigator, plenty
of time … three whole minutes before being submerged in the sea.

Alec turned to his horse but the Black’s eyes were closed in sleep. The boy kept looking at him for a long, long time while the last of the fuel flowed from the tanks to the engines.

Was this so different from their first trip together? he asked himself. If it hadn’t been for a storm, the Black would never have been his. It was their ship that had gone down instead of a plane, but it was the same raging sea, the same kind of night. Was that experience to be repeated? Was he to grab hold of the Black again and be pulled to safety? Was this the beginning all over again?

Alec took his eyes off his horse, never asking himself if, instead, his life with the Black was to end where it had begun—at night, in a storm-tossed sea.

The navigator unfastened the life raft from the heavy straps which held it just aft of the main door. They’d throw it out, inflating it with CO
₂
gas to make it seaworthy … that would take about forty-four seconds of their precious time, he figured. A launching line would hold the raft to the aircraft while they dropped into it from the escape rope … depending, of course, upon how low the ship lay in the water at the time and whether there was any need for the rope.

Alec watched the navigator, knowing that whatever happened luck would play an important part in the outcome. Air science and emergency procedures could accomplish only so much. The rest depended wholly upon circumstances. He had raced horses too long not to be well acquainted with the chances of survival in a tight situation.

He didn’t think it was possible for the pilot to set
the plane down under control in such a raging sea. There’d be no coming down smoothly and without a jar. They were bound to run smack into a wave, if not on first impact then soon after. It would be like hitting a brick wall, only harder, because the plane would give way beneath the force of the blow. There’d be plenty of things flying around, so
keep your head down
, he reminded himself.

Alec turned to his horse again. The worst part of it all was that there was nothing he or anyone else would be able to do during those first terrible seconds. It was a matter of prayer and luck. All one could do was to wait to find out if he was still alive when the plane stopped.

Suddenly an engine sputtered and backfired. Then another. The ship quivered, the first warning of a stall. The nose went down and the plane shook from side to side as it mushed into the lower air, its engines sputtering and backfiring violently, demanding fuel from near-drained tanks.

The
NO SMOKING
sign was on. The navigator called, “Brace for ditching. Hold your position until the aircraft comes to a complete stop. Be patient and orderly leaving the plane.” One would have thought he was in flight-training school all over again.

Alec tensed his muscles and waited.…

The plane was under full control when it approached the water with just enough fuel left in the tanks to give the engines power. Slower and slower it flew, almost in a power stall … lower and lower like a huge bird approaching its watery nest, which was now being lit by bright flares. If they were lucky, the plane would make a half-decent landing and there would be little breaking up. If they were unlucky, a wing tip would
hook the top of the first wave and the plane would dive straight down into the next. Now the plane swooped roughly, smoothed out again and almost stalled.