CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
With a little seed of imagination, you can grow a field of hope.
– NIGERIAN PROVERB –
High above the forest, Sam lowered his binoculars, leaning forward to look out through the rain-splattered windshield. A downdraft caught the helicopter, sending him back against his seat as the pilot wrested control of the craft.
“Sorry, Mr. Fargo,” he said.
“Circle around again.” Sam scrutinized the valley. They’d made two trips over the area, seeing nothing but cows slowly moving through the floodplain to higher ground. What he couldn’t see was anyone attending them. The Fulani herdsmen had either abandoned their stolen cattle or they were taking shelter from the storm.
One of the soldiers pointed. “I see someone. In the tree near the waterfall.”
The waterfall that hadn’t been there yesterday, Sam realized.
The pilot maneuvered the helicopter around. Sam caught sight of a man draped high in the branches of a tree growing at the base of the cliff as though he’d been swept down the precipice.
Sam focused his binoculars on the flooded field directly below the tree jutting out of the cliff, saw several men lying lifeless at the bottom. Definitely not the Fulani. “Can you get us in closer? I’d like to see the source of that waterfall.”
The pilot continued his ascent, giving them a view of the entire valley and the multitude of swift-moving swollen tributaries and streams feeding the river below.
“Mr. Fargo,” Okoro said. “You look worried. If those dead men are the kidnappers, surely that’s good news?”
“I hope so,” Sam said, wondering how close those men were to Remi and the girls when they were swept away. “Can you follow that waterfall to its source?”
“I can try.” The helicopter swung around. Rain beat down on the windshield, while a gust of wind sent drops of water across the glass, making it difficult to see. An army of chimpanzees raced down the mountainside, drawing their attention. “Something’s spooked them,” the copilot called out.
Sam, following their movement, wondered if the sound of the helicopter had disturbed them. He peered through the trees, seeing movement behind them.
The pilot ascended over the treetops, allowing a better view of a massive boulder between the mountain and the swollen creek.
“There,” Sam shouted.
The pilot banked toward them.
Sam counted, came up one short, despair so overwhelming he had difficulty breathing. Remi was missing.
As the aircraft neared, Sam realized the debris from the flash flood had formed a dam near the boulder. Water seeped through on the side closest to them, but there were too many trees hiding their view. “Check upstream.”
They flew over the boulders, the girls waving wildly, trying to get their attention. The other side looked like a muddy lake about to overflow. And there, braced against a boulder as though holding back the flood, was his wife. She squinted up at them, then gave the cliff above her a pointed look.
A couple of the chimpanzees from the fleeing troop hovered in the trees, looking the same direction as his wife—as though they sensed impending doom. Sam watched them a moment, then eyed the water swirling almost to Remi’s knees. The swift runoff continued rushing down from the cliff above, the deep brown water filled with silt washing between that boulder and the base of the mountain. “We need to get them off that rock.”
“Copy,” the pilot said. “I think I can come in from the other side. Anyone injured? We can rappel down and bring them up one by one.”
Sam focused his binoculars on the flat-topped boulder and up just beyond them and saw a flurry of small rocks and plants slipping down the mountainside. Sam glanced at the two soldiers and Okoro. “If you can touch down on the edge of the boulder, between the four of us back here we can extract them twice as fast.”
“What about your wife?”
“I can rappel down, bring her up at the same time.”
The copilot looked back at him—whether to object or agree, he didn’t know. He was already snapping into the harness and attaching it to the hoist while the two soldiers readied themselves for the rescue.
The moment the helicopter was within a few feet of the boulder, the first soldier jumped out, grabbed Nasha, and lifted her to Okoro. The second soldier operated the hoist as Sam jumped out. Sam moved to the edge of the boulder, looking down at Remi. Her red hair whipped about her face as she looked up at him, signaled him to get the children to safety first.
Sam turned, helping to lift each girl alongside the other soldier. Amal and Zara were last. Once they were safe, Sam moved to the edge of the rock, the rain beating against him, and lowered himself over the side.
Remi reached for him and he clasped his hand around her wrist, pulling her toward him. The moment she let go of the stick she’d been using to help brace herself, the debris sucked past the boulder with an astounding force. Within seconds, the entire side of the mountain slid down, trees and mud crashing against the boulder.
Sam wrapped his arms around Remi as the helicopter rose, the rope jerking them from the rock.
It swept them up and away, Remi holding tight to Sam. “About time,” she shouted over the rush of air.
“You didn’t exactly leave a trail of crumbs.”
“Only because I knew you’d find us.” She kissed him—and she didn’t stop until they were pulled into the helicopter and safely on their way back to the school.
CHAPTER SIXTY
If you keep your head and heart going in the right direction, you don’t have to worry about your feet.
– AFRICAN PROVERB –
The storm continued east, the rain nothing but a light drizzle by the time the helicopter touched down just outside the gates. Once they were on the ground, Sam and Remi hung back while Wendy hugged each girl, then directed them toward the office, where an army medic stood waiting to triage their injuries.
Nasha took one look at the man as he started to unwind the dirty bandage around Maryam’s arm and darted back toward Remi. “I don’t want to go in there.”
Remi crouched down in front of her. “You need that cut on your leg looked at and a clean bandage.”
Amal held out her hand. “I’ll go with you.”
Nasha turned a suspicious glance toward the office, then looked up at Amal. “You promise you’ll stay with me?”
“Promise.”
She took Amal’s hand and the two walked off, while Wendy hustled the uninjured girls toward the dorm to get cleaned up. When she saw Remi, she gave her mud-stained clothes a thorough once-over. “I’ll wait for that hug until after you’ve showered.”