*
The call camein late one evening when Sierra and Connor were both working. There was a multi-car pileup on Highway 90 east of Livingston, close to Billings. EMS ground and air transport were being called in from multiple hospitals and clinics, Marietta being one of them. Sierra and Connor hurried to the helicopter. Once there, they found a pilot they had flown with before, Everard Bartholomew.
“Bart, it’s good to see you,” Connor said.
“Any details about casualties?” Sierra asked, pleased that Bart was their pilot since he was one of her favorites. He was married with two kids and a rowdy dog, all of whom he was crazy about and had told her all about in the time she’d known him.
“Not other than there’s a shitload of them and some are critical.”
They put on their helmets, buckled in, and settled down for the ride. To get to the crash site they would be passing close to the Crazy Mountains. Sierra had looked at a map prior to departure. “Why are they called the Crazy Mountains?” Sierra asked.
Connor answered, “The story goes that back in the 1800s a woman who lost her family in a raid went insane and lived in the mountains vowing to haunt those responsible. I think they were originally called the Crazy Woman Mountains. The Crow people named them.”
As usual, Connor went back to his book. Sierra shook her head and began talking to Bart about his oldest daughter who wanted him to teach her to fly a helicopter.
“I told her no way and then her mama said she’d murder both of us if we tried.”
“Is she old enough to get her pilot’s license?”
“She’ll be seventeen next month,” he said grimly. “That’s the minimum age. There’s a flight school not too far away and she thinks she can swing the payments with her savings from her summer jobs.”
“Why don’t you want her to learn?”
“Look, I love it and I’ve been flying for a long time. But there’s no denying it can be dangerous. I told her to wait and if she still wants to do it in a couple of years, I’ll help her. Of course, my wife won’t be happy.”
“But you’re hoping your daughter will forget about it.”
“Right. But if I know my girl, she won’t.”
“Good luck,” Sierra told him, thinking he’d need it.
“The Crazies are coming up,” Bart said a short while later.
She assumed he meant the Crazy Mountains. “How long until we reach the accident site?”
“Half an hour. Maybe less.”
Looking out the window toward the mountains, Sierra saw a small, black flying object that at first she thought was a bird.
“What the hell?” Connor said, leaning forward to look out her window. “Is that a drone?”
It disappeared and right after that there was a horrible sound and the helicopter started spinning and going down. She heard, ‘Oh, shit,’ from the pilot, then nothing as he fought for control of the chopper.
Oh, shit, oh, shit we’re going to crash.She looked at Connor.
“Stay calm,” he said, looking ridiculously calm.
Oh, sure,she thought as she white-knuckled her seat.A helicopter crash is no big deal.
A sudden gust of wind pushed them sideways. She heard Bart giving coordinates as he yelled, “Mayday, Mayday, Mayday!” into the radio speaker.
The rotors hit a tree, and the helicopter crashed into the ground, landing on one side. For a long moment there wasn’t a sound in the helicopter. Catching her breath, Sierra took stock and other than having the shit scared out of her, realized she was okay. However, she was hanging from her seat by virtue of her seat belt. She started to unbuckle it but decided to wait until she figured out how to safely do that.
“Connor, are you okay?” He didn’t answer and when she looked at him she saw why. He was cursing under his breath and more or less pinned into his seat. There was broken glass all around him and he had multiple cuts on his face and arms.
“I’m all right,” he said. “What about you?”
“I’m fine but you’re obviously not. Can you get out?”
