Warning Order (A Spider Shepherd short story) Read Free Page A

saw the helicopter change course slightly towards them. It overflew them and even went into a hover, but it then swung away and headed back towards the coast. In desperation he fired another flare but the helicopter kept on its course and soon disappeared from sight. How had they missed them? How had they not seen the flares?
    He stared helplessly at his three companions.  ‘Flares!’ he shouted. ‘Keep firing the flares.’
    They kept firing flares but did so now more in desperation than in genuine hope that they might result in a rescue.
    The time dragged by and Shepherd no longer had any sense of how long they had been in the water. Only a deep-rooted, subconscious survival instinct kept him clinging on. He was not even aware of feeling cold any more, in fact, if anything, in his rare moments of relative lucidity, he almost felt too hot. He was now only semi-conscious. The others were in no better shape and the weather was deteriorating, with vicious gusts of wind and stinging showers of sleet and snow blowing across them. Through the fog of his thoughts, he was dimly aware of a sound that appeared to come from a long way off, but in his confused state it seemed of no more significance than a fly buzzing against a window pane. It grew louder and louder, but he still gazed vacantly in front of him, even as the downdraft from a hovering helicopter lashed the water into foam. A moment later, a dark shape splashed into the sea alongside them.
    The winchman grabbed Jimbo first, manhandling him into the sling and signalling to be hauled up. He returned a couple of minutes later for Geordie, who seemed no more aware of what was happening than Shepherd.  The winchman came to get Liam next, but Liam shook his head, pointing towards Shepherd. ‘Take him,’ he said, his speech so slurred that he sounded half-asleep. ‘He’s not going to make it if you don’t. Take him.’
    Shepherd was only half aware of what Liam was saying. The winchman swam towards Shepherd and wrestled him into the sling. He signalled to the winch operator to haul them up. Shepherd was swung in through the hatch and laid on a stretcher on the floor of the helicopter next to the other two men. His pupils were fully dilated and his skin had turned blue. He didn’t appear to be breathing and had no detectable pulse, but the medic refused to give up and began using CPR to try to restart his heart.
    As the medic fought to revive Shepherd, the winchman swung out of the hatch ready to retrieve Liam. He could see the dark shape of the Irishman, still clinging to the hull. But as he descended a huge wave broke over the boat and ripped Liam away. The winchman stared at the waves waiting for Liam to reappear, but there was no sign of him. He spoke to the pilot on his headset and the helicopter began a series of slowly widening circles around the boat, but nothing broke the surface of the sullen ocean swell. Time was running out for the three men they had already rescued so eventually the pilot had to abandon the search and he wheeled the helicopter away to speed back towards the Norwegian coast.
    * * *
    Shepherd heard a voice and opened his eyes a fraction, blinking in the strong light. ‘Welcome back, Dan.’ The voice had a Scandinavian accent. As Shepherd’s eyes came into focus, he saw a white-coated figure looking down at him.
    ‘Where am I?’ croaked Shepherd.
    ‘In Narvik, at the University Hospital, and you’re a very lucky man indeed,’ the doctor said. ‘You nearly died out there.  You had no pulse or visible respiration when you were brought in, and the core temperature of your body was barely twenty degrees Celsius. A weaker man wouldn’t have recovered. ‘
    ‘Good to know,’ said Shepherd. He tried to lift his head but fell back.
    ‘Luckily for you, the medic on the rescue helicopter is no stranger to hypothermia cases. Once you reached hospital we gave you a breathing tube with warm air for your lungs, and warm saline through an IV and