Flight to Coorah Creek Read Free Page B

intensity of her concentration. Occasionally, she would reach up to tug at her short dark hair, as if trying to lengthen it. She seemed to know what she was doing at the controls for someone who was quite young – no more than her mid-twenties. She was attractive too, he suddenly realised. She looked more like a model than a pilot. He wondered for a few seconds what on earth would bring a woman like her to a place like Coorah Creek. Then his eyes dropped back to his watch.
    â€˜I’m starting the descent now.’ The pilot – Jess – turned to look back at him. ‘We’re about ten minutes out. I’ve got them on the radio. They want to talk to you.’
    Adam unbuckled his seat belt and moved forward into the cockpit. He slipped carefully into the co-pilot’s seat and reached for the radio handset.
    â€˜This is Adam Gilmore.’
    â€˜I’m glad you’re almost here, Doc. He’s in a bad way.’ The voice from the radio was distorted, but the concern was still obvious. ‘His side’s ripped open. We padded it like you said on the phone, but there’s still a lot of blood.’
    â€˜Where is he?’
    â€˜At the homestead. Are you going to fly him out tonight? We can bring him to the strip.’
    â€˜We’re not going anywhere else tonight,’ Jess said sharply. ‘No light.’
    â€˜I know,’ Adam said impatiently, very aware that the swiftly falling darkness might cost the injured man his life. He thumbed the microphone open. ‘Don’t move him. Keep him as still as you can and keep pressure on the wound. Have a car meet us.’
    â€˜Okay, Doc.’
    Jess took the handset from him and thumbed it on. ‘This is the pilot again,’ she said. ‘We’re running out of light up here. I’m going to need your help to get down. I need landing lights.’
    Landing lights? Adam frowned. Didn’t she realise she was talking about a graded strip of red dirt in the back of nowhere?
    â€˜Send out cars.’ Jess gave instructions in a crisp clear voice. ‘At least two – more if you have them. I need one on the south-east corner, pointing up the eastern side of the strip. The other one at the north-west corner, pointing down the western side. Tell them to have their lights on high beam.’
    â€˜Okay.’ The voice at the other end of the radio sounded hesitant.
    â€˜I’m starting my descent now and I can barely see the strip. I need those lights and I need them right now.’
    Adam heard some muffled words shouted at the other end of the radio.
    â€˜They’re on the way.’
    He looked out of the window. He could distinguish a cluster of buildings, illuminated by a series of small lights. Huge white letters across the roof of the shearing shed identified Warrina Downs. They were barely readable in the low light. The landing was going to be more than just difficult. It was going to be dangerous. He caught a glimpse of a pale line in the earth. The landing strip. Even as he watched, it faded from sight as the light failed. He could see the headlights of two vehicles moving at speed away from the homestead.
    â€˜There they are,’ he said.
    â€˜I’ve got them. Strap in. This isn’t going to be the best landing you’ve ever experienced.’
    Adam did as instructed. Glancing sideways at Jess’s profile, he saw her brow furrow. He wasn’t afraid of flying. In his job he’d chalked up more than a few difficult landings in his urgency to get to someone who needed him. But this … He looked out of the window again. The cars had stopped moving. He saw the bright beams of their headlights – but he couldn’t see a landing strip. He felt a twinge of something that might be fear.
    He turned to look back at Sister Luke. The nun was securely strapped into her seat. Her face was calm, but he rarely saw her any other way. Her hands were closed around the