“Is this Mr Wright? Amy’s dad?” I asked.
“Who the fuck are you? Phil, wake up, some guy has Amy’s phone,” the man shouted.
“What?” a second man snapped.
“Sir, please, I need to speak to Amy’s dad,” I replied.
“I’m her papa. Who are you?” demanded the second voice.
“Sir, my name is Vortex, I’m a member of the Unwanted Bastards MC in Merritt, South Dakota. Amy was in an incident…”
“Where the hell is my daughter, and what hospital? Where’s Natasha? What type of accident? Amy was on that blimp thing. Why is someone from a motorbike club calling us?” Papa exclaimed.
“Mr Wright, there is no easy way of saying this, but the zeppelin exploded and crashed. Amy is one of the few survivors. We haven’t located Natasha. My MC is part of search and rescue and was first on the scene.” As I spoke, I could hear movement, and I assumed they were getting dressed. “The Titanic of the Skies exploded above Merritt, and I found Amy wandering. Amy seems uninjured—a bruise and some scratches, but she’s in shock.”
“Send us the hospital address, young man. We’re on our way. Don’t leave our daughter alone,” the first guy ordered. Amy’s dad? I wasn’t sure. They cut the call, and I received a curt text demanding the address. I sent it back and realised I had no idea when they’d arrive. Oh well, looks like Amy was stuck with me for a while.
Her eyelashes fluttered, and Amy opened her eyes. She looked confused, then panicked, before resignation settled over her.
“It wasn’t a bad dream?” she whispered.
I grasped her hand—the one without the cannula. “No, sorry, brave girl.”
“Natasha?”
“No news yet, but everyone is searching. I opened your phone, found a picture, and sent it to my president. He’s forwarded to the searchers. If they find her alive, we’ll know,” I replied.
A tear trickled down Amy’s cheek. “Tash’s gone. I know it.”
Lost for words, I squeezed Amy’s hand. “We’ll keep looking until we locate her one way or another,” I promised.
“Thank you. Tash doesn’t deserve to be alone.”
“Nobody does, brave girl. The survivors are being brought here so we’ll know if Natasha arrives.”
“How many, Vortex?”
With a heavy heart, I answered. “Six, including you.”
“That few!” Amy exclaimed, looking horrified.
“Yeah.”
Amy closed her eyes. “This is a nightmare.”
I couldn’t disagree. I’d seen the aftermath; Amy had lived through it. Months would pass before Amy healed and didn’t have bad dreams. On top of that, I guessed she’d also be grieving, but the circle of opportunity for finding Natasha alive was shrinking. I wished to protect her from that grief, but I couldn’t. Nobody could.
Chapter Three.
Vortex
“We’ve got a survivor coming in,” a nurse gasped as she rushed by. I reached out and grabbed her, and she paused.
“Male or female?” I demanded. “I’m part of search and rescue. Amy Wright, the patient there, is missing her best friend, Natasha.”
The nurse looked me over, saw my credentials, and answered. “Sorry, it’s a man.”
“Fuck, thanks,” I hissed, and she nodded and rushed off. Three men, three women, and one child. Was that it?
