The Atlas Grove - The Embrace of Nox

 

 

Rachel's radio squawked and her husbands voice crackled, "Rachel, a helicopter's crashed in the grove; somewhere between Proteus and Nox. It's lodged in the crown.'"

"What!'"

"Get out here. Bring more rope."

Rachel exited the Quonset hut and jogged on emerald green moss past the ancient, thirty foot wide bases of the redwood titans.

She ran past the dark columns toward Proteus and Nox, toward her husband Tom.

And another man; a soldier. Not that he wore a uniform, his bearing screamed it.

The group stood circled by ranks of three hundred fifty foot redwoods. Hanks of red rope and gleaming hardware lay heaped on the ground.

Tom gestured at the man, the soldier. "Rachel, Bill Hitt.'"

Hitt looked at Ray, "Theres a chopper stuck in your trees, and theres a man on board we need to get down right now. And the pilot.'"

"Let's move then,'" Rachel said.

Tom smiled. Hitt blinked.

Tom said, "What happens if they attempt an air rescue with a helicopter above the grove Ray?"

"Dead branches the size of rhino's will fall from the crown and crush the chopper maybe. Hurt the grove for sure.'"

Tom said, "And if a team of rescue climbers magically appeared this second, could they climb our trees, honey?"

"No chance. They'd fall from the sky like apples.'"

"Who are the best people on earth to get those men down safely?"

"You and me."

"Right. And Laura and Jake, but they aren't here."

Hitt said, "Four hours for a rescue team to get here. That's too long. We need those men safe right now.'"

Rachel looked at Hitt, "You climb?"

"I climb."

The visual impact of the monolithic dark shafts staggered around Hitt set his head spinning. The trees emitted gravity. "They're so...'" He shook his head.

Hitt produced a GPS unit. "Look at this, there's the chopper.'" Their target blinked on the screen.

Tom said, "Looks like the helicopter is lodged in Proteus.'"

Thomas and Rachel turned their eyes up to the canopy in unison.

Rachel said, "We're not climbing a tree with a helicopter above us. We climb Nox and zip over to Proteus.'"

"O.K.'"

The soldier looked at Nox's immense trunk. His eyes traveled up the gigantic thirty foot wide column.
"How the hell do we get in the tree? The lowest branch must be a hundred fifty feet up.'"

Rachel said, "Get me the bow.'"

Thomas smiled; a thrill vibrated through his chest when his wife said that.

Rachel tied fishing line to an arrow. She aimed for the lowest branch on the tree called Nox and released the missile. The arrow trailed silver thread through green space, topped the branch, dipped, shot to earth and pierced the pristine green at their feet.

"Jesus Christ." Hitt looked at the silver arrow stuck in the bright green moss ten feet away.

The pip, pip, pip, of tiny birds blinked through the grove.

Thomas tied four hundred feet of rope to the fishing line. He pulled lengths of fishing line through his hands and the red rope streaked toward Nox, slipped over the main branch, wide as two cars, and returned to him.

Rachel disassembled her bow, slid the tool into a slim case.

Thomas slipped his arm around his wife and tucked her close, his fingertips brushed warm skin on her waist. "You ever think about wearing more than a tank top when you climb?"

"No, my love, never thought about it.'"

Thomas laughed. Thomas kissed Rachel's lips. "Watch for rope frays on the anchor loops.'"

"Yes, dear.'"

Thomas clamped ascenders on the rope. Squeeze the handle, pull yourself up. Set the brake and sit in the harness to rest.

Thomas lofted himself up first, climbing fast. His skin looked tea colored in the shade. Rachel watched his thighs flex, pulled her eyes away.

Rachel mounted the rope and followed.

  Then Hitt.

Tweets and chirps slipped through the warm air as the they climbed.

They hung suspended from the main branch a hundred forty feet in the air. Soaring brown and green columns circled them.

"How did you get to the grove?" Thomas asked Hitt.

"My helicopter is just beyond the woods, by the water.'"

Tom cast a weighted rope, a lanyard, straight up to a branch projecting twenty feet above. The rope swished past the branch, folded in half over it, and returned to Tom's hand.

Tom clipped his ascenders on the rope and pulled himself towards a branch wide enough to stable three horses. He hung below the branch and cast his rope up to another massive strut.

Hitt said, "Theres a forty foot tree growing from that branch there!'"

"Yeah. It's a maple.'"

Tom cast his rope up, hooked branch after branch. Rachel and Hitt followed.

Thomas, Rachel and Hitt climbed the hulking, elephantine crossbeams of the thunderous green and brown totem called Nox.

Hitt crested two hundred seventy feet. He looked at Rachel, "This is too much. Its not like climbing a rock, a building. It's... Mass. Gravity. These huge trees... I can't... It's... It's...'"

"I know.'"

The Atlas Grove. Age and measure race beyond grasp.

Thomas cast red rope. Thomas climbed. He climbed and breached the green crown of Nox. Blazing sunlight and wind triggered a captivating riot of sparkling yellow and greens. Sunlight glittered on Thomas.

"I see the chopper! Get up here!'"

The three of them stood, anchored, on a wide, flat, natural shelf. Across a wild, thirty foot void the helicopter shimmered, lodged in the crown of Proteus. Sunlight blasted the blue wreck through a crater in the canopy. Two upturned branches cradled the machine.

Tom said, "That thing is wedged in tight. It's not going anywhere.'"

"That's for sure.'" Rachel said.

Ray threw rope at a branch across the thirty foot gap. The branch projected ten feet over the helicopter. The rope streaked over the branch and dangled from it-- thirty feet away.

"How the hell do you get the end of the rope over here?'" Hitt said.

Thomas held fishing line with a small lead weight attached. He spun the line and released it at the dangling rope. The silver line flashed thirty feet, found the red rope, wrapped around it, tangled with it. He reeled in the fishing line. Red rope snaked and hopped toward them across eerie, empty space.

Rachel secured herself to the rope. '"'m going to the helicopter.'"

"Yes, dear.'" Tom said.

Hitt shuffled and looked down, looked up. "F**k."

Rachel swung across the gap without concern. Her rope creaked, but it could support six horses; what's to worry about? Rachel soared between Nox and Proteus. She settled against the body of the helicopter. Rachel saw movement behind a window; heard scraping, shifting.

"Someone's alive over here! Tom, fix ropes and zip over!'"

Rachel pulled herself along the helicopter, saw the man inside.

The man pushed the window out, "Thank God, thank God.'" He said, and, 'The pilot's dead, he's smashed dead.'" The man tried to pull himself out. "Help me, please.'" The man saw Pitt across the ominous thirty foot gap and froze. "No. It can't be you, not here.'" The mans eyes locked on Rachel. "Oh God! Listen to me! Get away from him! Run for your lives and--"

Gunshot!

The man's head split apart two feet from Rachel's eyes. He spasmed. The broken red dish of his head spurted blood in the strong sun. White shards of shattered forehead glistened. Sheets of blood streamed down the side of the helicopter.

A silver weapon gleamed green in Hitt's hand, the barrel dribbled smoke.

"WHAT THE F**K ARE YOU DOING!'" From Rachel and Tom in astounded harmony.

"If that man spoke two words to certain people... " Hitt shook his head. "Very bad for the good old U.S.A.'" He laughed.

The awesome forest spread around them.

The barrel of Hitt's gun tracked for Thomas.

Thomas clubbed the metal ascender against Hitt's weapon.

Gunshot!

The weapon streaked from Hitt's hand and stopped dead on spongy patch of shimmering white lichen.

"Thomas!'"

Hitt spun. He grabbed Thomas. Hitt smashed his forehead into Tom's face. Tom staggered. Hitt looked down for his gun and--

Yellow bars of light danced on Rachel as she assembled her bow.

The pip, pip, pip of tiny ring tails sounded.

Hitt consumed her vision as Rachel loosed the arrow into the green!

The spinning blue shaft hummed through sparkling lace of light and shadow!

Hitt roared! "My shoulder!'" Pain struck him rigid! Jagged green light rocked across his face!

Pain like a sun flare in Tom's head, he crouched on dazzling white and yellow plants. Adrenaline charged his body. His body shone like wood. Every thrumming muscle focused his fist into Hitt's belly like a sledge.

"Nice punch, babe!'"

Hitt grunted, folded to the thick moss, mouth gulping, eyes wide and green; eyes reflecting shades from the leaves of Nox. Tom kicked Hit's silver weapon over the edge. Tom clipped himself to the rope and swung into the void. He arced around the mammoth shaft and landed on the far side. He shouted, "Ray!'"

Rachel leaned against the metal wall of the helicopter; dark hair blown slanting; her bow primed with another arrow. "I'm O.K!'"

Thomas wasn't O.K. His nose felt broken and his face pounded to the tide of his pulse. "Good! Let's get the hell out of here!'"

Rachel stared at Hitt across the thirty foot gap of titanic, bulging, thrusting branches, and shiny, sun frenzied, patchwork of leaves.

Hitt stood exposed on a brilliant mat of tiny yellow and white plants, trapped. "Don't shoot me again!'"

Rachel looked at Hitt, the sun a white glint in her eyes. Rachel disassembled her bow.

Rachel shouted. "Thomas!'"

"I'm here!'"

"I'm going down Proteus! I'll slide over to you fifty feet down!'"

"Yes, dear. Please do, my head hurts.'"

"What?"

"MY HEAD HURTS!'"

Hitt: "Help me!'" The arrow projected from his shoulder. "Get me the f**k down!'"

The broad arms of Proteus and Nox supported Tom and Rachel by thin red rope three hundred feet above the earth.

Hitt: "This is a black operation!'" 'That helicopter doesn't exist!" 'No one's coming to help!'"

Rachel swung across the void and landed in the arms of her husband. Nox held Tom and Rachel two hundred feet above the earth. Then one hundred.

Hitt: "PLEASE GET ME DOWN GET ME DOWN GET ME DOWN FROM HERE!'"

Thomas and Rachel, the botanists, stood on the green wonderland of the forest floor. Rachel spread her arms wide and leaned against Nox. "Thank you.'" She said, and, "Thomas, let me see your nose, darling.'"

Monolithic fright seized Hitt. Devastated, his eyes traveled the unbearable three hundred sixty foot corridor of dark struts to the ground. The sickening, careening height! His head jerked with sobs; his body shook with tremors. The primal, rough tower called Nox embraced William Hitt and he screamed.