ARCANA Chapter 21 by William James Johnson

Gusting snow swirled above the pulsing helicopter as John prepared to take off on his test flight. As he increased the RPM, the blowing snow obliterated the control tower. Lifting gingerly from its pad, he headed north to check out his altimeter after Red had reported he couldn't find anything wrong with it. The whole sham of a test flight was his way to escape rig eight, and head south before attracting too much attention. Within minutes he was out of visual range, being tracked on radar.

"Radar, Noramoil one. I'm going to be dropping below your horizon to do a surface check on my altimeter. I expect to be out of contact several minutes. Over."

"This is radar. We copy. Standing by."

Rapidly he descended to within two hundred feet of the ice and pointed his helicopter south west, heading for Tuktoyaktuk. If he could get some distance between him and the rig, in the opposite heading to his last position, he was certain he would reduce the chances of alerting radar of his plans.

He strained to keep his plane under control in the heavy surface winds at this low altitude. Starting the timer on his instrument panel, he marked his present position on the chart that straddled his lap.

Muffled sounds came from behind his seat. Looking over his shoulder, he saw a bright orange cover begin to move. It was part of a survival tent which filled the space.

"Can I come out now?" asked the voice under the cover.

"What the hell...who's there?"

"Me...Shelley."

He pulled the aircraft up another two hundred feet so that he could take his attention off his flying.

"Come on out of there...now."

Bunching up the cover, she stuck her lovely head out of the edge of her hiding place. Her hair was loose and tangled. Smiling at John, she struggled to free herself from all the fabric.

"Told you I was going to come with you."

He was angry and glad. She could ruin his plan to escape, but only a dead man would prefer to be alone when such a vibrant, sensual companion had chosen to be with him.

"Come on up front. Can you get over that seat?"

"I'll try." She pushed her legs between the space in the cockpit and wedged her firm bottom into the opening, pressing against John's body. Rolling over in the copilot's seat she looked up at him, still smiling, hoping for his approval.

"I can't believe you're here. When you told me last night about the General and everything, I was sure this morning someone would come into my cabin and arrest me. I lost a lot of sleep over you last night."

"Was that the only reason you couldn't sleep?"

He smiled at her question. "It's been so long since I've been with a woman, I'd forgotten how good it feels."

"You were pretty good for a guy who hasn't done it for so long. Don't worry though, I'll personally see that from now on you get as much as you want." Her frankness embarrassed him.

Turning from her, John saw that the snow squalls were easing off as he continued to fly at 400 feet. The drift ice sped quickly beneath them and everywhere he looked it was like being in a huge white room.

"Can I ask you something that's been bothering me?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"Kinda embarrassing."

"It's got to be about sex. I've got a sixth sense about things like that."

"I'd call it a sexth sense."

"Hey, that's good. I sure like a man with a sense of humour."

"It's the way you turn everything into something sexual. Is this an act with you, or are you the genuine thing?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"Don't you see how you come on to guys. You radiate the stuff. When I first saw you, I could tell we'd make it together. How come you're that way?"

"It's a long story...I'm not sure you'd like to hear it."

"Of course I want to hear it. We're going to have lots of time to put in. I want to hear all about you".

"I'm warning you. Some of the things I've got to tell you may make you angry. Even worse. They might make you hate me."

"Nothing you say or do could ever make me hate you."

"Promise."

"Of course. I promise. Now stop the stalling."

"I've never told anybody else this."

"Honest?"

"Cross my heart."

"As the man said, let the story begin."

"Well it goes back to when I was just a little girl. I'm thirty now, in case you didn't know."

"You look younger than that. So let's start when you were a little girl...I'm all ears."

She hesitated, organizing her thoughts, so that she could make her story more acceptable.

"It began one summer when I was at uncle Alex's farm. He and his wife never had any kids. He was always so friendly. He loved hugging me and wrestling with me, holding me astride his body, while he sprawled out on the floor. It all seemed so innocent. I really liked it. I liked it a lot. My own father seldom ever touched me, or kissed me, but uncle Alex couldn't get enough of me."

"Well this one summer...you sure you want to hear this?"

"Look...if you'd rather not, forget it. I don't want to dig up old memories that might hurt you."

"That's nice John...You know you're a lot like Alex. Both sensitive, and warm. Guess that's why I don't mind telling you this."

"Then go ahead. When you're finished, I can tell you some things I've never told anybody. We'll share our secrets. That's a good way to start, wouldn't you say?"

"I think so...now where was I?"

"On uncle Alex's farm."

"Right...well, as I remember it, the two of us went for a walk down to the stream which flowed through the woods at the far side of his property. Even though he was a career soldier, he owned a farm, because he wanted to have a place he could call home when he retired."

"It took us quite awhile to get there. We were both so hot, hiking in the open sun. Uncle Alex was sweating. He wasn't as heavy as he is now. He always took pride in keeping fit. We were beat. Like I mean exhausted. When we got well into the woods, he suggested we take off our clothes and cool off in the clear water. It wasn't deep enough to get right under, so I was feeling a little uneasy about going into the stream without my clothes."

"'We'll leave on our underwear,' said my Uncle. 'Just like bathing suits.' This sounded okay to me, because I really was hot, and I looked forward to sitting in the cool water. He watched as I undressed. I giggled when he let his pants fall to the ground. It was then I saw, for the first time, that hard thing I used to feel whenever we would play together. It was poking right out of his shorts...Do you really want me to go on?"

"Only if you want to."

"I do want to. I want to get it out, then forget it, forever. Well, he was embarrassed at first. He looked all around to be sure no one was coming. I ran from him into the water. He plunged into the cool stream, splashing me all over. We were having a great time playing together. He lifted me over his head several times. Then this one time, he lowered me onto his face and said, ‘Shelly, I love you so much, I could eat you up.' I thought he was still playing. That's when I felt his tongue doing things to me, right through my panties. I laughed and told him it felt funny, and good, at the same time. And I said I would eat him up too. He made a low sound in his chest, almost like purring. You know what I mean? Then he turned me over, still holding me, with my bottom next to his mouth, and he asked me to do the same thing for him. I didn't know what I was doing. I was only nine. I played with it for a few minutes then I kissed it like he asked me. He fell over backwards into the water with me on top of him. He shot a white stream, that curled in the air, and floated away in the cool water."

John had almost forgotten about his flying as she continued her graphic description of her sexual adventures with her uncle. He couldn't believe a guy like the General would be such a man. Disgusted with her picture of the old pervert, he was almost tempted to turn the helicopter around and confront him with her story.

"That's a terrible thing to happen to a child."

"Why would you say that? He didn't hurt me. Alex and I had many other experiences after that. No one ever knew."

"Then why are you talking about it now?"

"Because, in a way, it's bothered me all my life and if we don't make it back to Washington, at least I will have cleared my mind of it."

"Didn't your parents suspect?"

"Never. Mother was trying to establish herself as an academic, and dad was struggling through law school. They liked Alex, and when he and his wife had no kids after many years of marriage they didn't mind him sharing me."

"But he was molesting you."

"He wasn't molesting me. You make it sound so dirty. Uncle Alex was loving me, and I loved him too."

"Did he take your virginity?"

She was skilled in reading the true motives of men, who were constantly coming on to her. His question confirmed he was being aroused by her descriptions of her juvenile love affairs. She knew men fantasized about seducing young girls, and being the first to have them.

"I was only eleven when I began to menstruate. Mother was disappointed I was developing so rapidly. She briefed me on how to take care of myself and left it at that."

"Uncle Alex was visiting us at Christmas. He had just finished a tour overseas, and his wife had died. She had cancer and died in her early thirties. I felt so sorry for poor Alex . He had no kids to help him, and now his wife was dead. He asked me if I wanted to go to the farm before he had to report down south at a new base. He was a Major then. My parents didn't mind, because they liked Alex and they knew how much he was hurting with the loss of his wife."

"We were going to drive up to Vermont and do whatever it was he felt needed doing and come back for Christmas dinner at home. There was a heavy snow storm when we got there, and Alex went to the neighbouring farm to phone home and tell them we would have to stay because of the weather."

"That night, Christmas Eve, we were lying by the fire, when he began to cry. I felt so empty seeing this happen. I thought it was because of his wife's death. He assured me that it wasn't because of her. He said it was because he had been abusing me all these years, and he was so sorry he couldn't help himself. I hugged him and kissed him, and told him that if I thought he had been abusing me, I would have told someone, but I felt that whatever we did, we did because we loved each other."

"He kissed me so tenderly, and his touch made me feel weak inside. I touched him and kissed him with my tiny tongue, trying to be a woman. We undressed each other and he was very gentle with me as he supported me on his firm naked body. The red from the fire shone over the glistening flesh between his thighs, and I played with it like he had shown me. Then I felt his finger probing my tight insides, moving carefully all over the pink lips, making them shine with moistness. He said it would take a while before there was enough juice to make it easier for me. His finger pushed in further, and I felt a sharp pain, but he didn't go all the way. He continued to fondle my pink opening, and I thought I would burst. Gently he lifted me onto his lap and let his throbbing passion rest against my tender lips. Oh how I wanted him to push it inside. I didn't care if it would hurt. I was ready and I held him tightly and begged him to let me feel it with my swollen opening. Slowly he worked it in, stretching me until I thought I would rip in two. It felt so large. Yet, with all the juices coming out of me, it moved further and further into me, then it ached for a brief moment, and I felt my warm blood seeping down my legs, mixed with his creamy juices. We stayed like that for such a long time, hugging, kissing, until he slipped out of my tight body. He wiped me clean and continued to fondle my excited opening.

In a seated position on the floor, his organ thrust upwards again, he lowered me slowly onto its flaming end. It felt warm and swollen and my tiny bottom tried to caress its tip. With the greatest gentleness he eased the end into me about an inch and we remained perfectly still. I was a woman at last."

John felt weak as she continued with her description. It was as if he too was having her for the first time. His mouth felt dry as she continued to speak. She could see her story was getting to him.

"I'm sorry, John. Maybe I should leave it at that."

"Photar was right. Woman is truly the devil's companion."

"I don't understand. Who is Photar?"

"Shelley...what can I say. Of course your story gets to me. I wouldn't be human if I didn't react...I must say though, I think you get off talking this way too. Don't you?"

"I love sex. Why pretend I don't. Alex was a fantastic teacher and lover. It's because of him I prefer older men. They're more understanding...more patient. I like that sense of power I feel when a man comes inside me and I know he is most vulnerable at that moment."

"Gawd! I've never met a woman like you. I don't know if it is pleasure or pain you're looking for. All I know is you're one helluva copilot."

His track on his map showed they had cleared the radar range of control at unit eight. Pointing the nose of the helicopter upwards, he started to climb to a higher altitude.

"Why are you going up?"

"They can't pick us up on their radar anymore. I figure we should get out of the turbulence at about six thousand feet. It'll be less strain on both of us."

She studied his handsome face and greying hair. She saw why others had confidence in this man. There was the same gentleness in John that she had experienced behind the gruffness of the General.

It took several minutes of flying to get to the new altitude.

"There we are. Six thousand. That's a lot smoother."

"When do you think we'll reach Alaska?"

"I'm not going to take the Alaskan route."

"Why not? The General is expecting you to go that way. That's what you and Barry planned."

"That's why I'm changing it. If the General knows everything like you say, I think it's time we threw him a curve. The more we can keep them off balance, the better our chances of getting back to Thorpe."

"I think he wanted to know where you would be in case you got into any trouble and he could help us. Alex is that way."

"Forget it, Shelley...let's get back to your story. Tell me why you were sent here to the rig."

"Like I told you last night, I decided to return to school and get a degree in creative writing at Briarwood. Practically everyone at the school was into the so called designer drugs. I saw the chance to get some good stuff for a book, so I got into it too."

"What sort of stuff?"

"Hallucinogenics. Magic mushrooms. Synthetic speed. All those chemicals which let you trip out."

"I can't believe you were so stupid. You seem bright enough. Why would you take such a risk?"

"They're all doing it. You've been away too long, John. You really don't know what's been going on."

"So you did your psychedelic trip. If everyone's doing it, how come you got nailed?"

"I got caught bringing some new stuff into Noram from the far east. It was what is called anaphrodisiac, a substance which reduces the sexual appetite and lets you do it longer. With the way the gays were getting it on, I thought I'd make a pile of bucks with this new chemical. Only I got caught at the airport. I had the stuff in condoms up both my openings. Someone must have squealed. I was given a body search by this lesbian looking customs bitch, and that was it. My budding career as a dope peddlar ended before it got started."

"And you were sent here as punishment?"

"That's what they said. Daddy being a Chief Justice made a helluva difference. He just wanted me out of his sight and good old uncle Alex was always glad to have me."

"How much time did they give you?"

"First they sent me to one of the airbases to learn all about safety equipment, so I could do a job up here. Then I was brought to uncle Alex's unit. All together, I was supposed to serve five years."

"Seems like a lot for a first offence."

"It wasn't my first offence. I'd been charged before using other substances but each time daddy got me off. I guess he just got tired of bailing me out."

"What you said last night about screwing his ass off. Were you serious?"

"John, you've got to accept me for what I am. Some people call me a nymphomaniac. I just love sex. Maybe it's because I began so young. I don't know. I just like to make people happy."

He smiled at her openness. She looked so sweet, it was difficult to realize that this attractive young woman was so driven by sex. She placed her hand on his lap and gave him a gentle squeeze. He let his hand drop from the controls and touched her in uncle Alex's favourite spot.

After several hours of tedious flying, the snow covered landing strip at Tuktoyaktuk, surrounded by pre-war James Way huts and stacks of fuel drums, was a welcome sight. His fuel gauge indicated they were almost out of gas.

"There it is. Thank God. This machine must be flying on fumes now."

He approached the runway from the west, selecting an open area near a bright yellow fuel tender and an ancient twin engine cargo aircraft. The loose snow engulfed the helicopter in white as it descended. John cut the engine. A figure came out of the old metal shelter, peering through the fur of his parka.

"Fill ‘er up?"

"Later. What's that crate doing here?"

"Last of the season. They've been bringing in the fuel drums."

"Where are they based?"

"Seattle, I think. Why?"

"How can I find the captain?"

"In the mess. After supper they're going back home."

"Hold off refuelling me until I talk with the captain. Come on, Shelley."

The crowded mess hall hut was packed with oil field workers, and the four crew of the C119. Sitting at a table, at the far end of the dining room, John spotted the captain.

"Hi, Skipper. I'm John Robins and this is my copilot Shelley Blackbird from Noramoil."
He stood up and extended his hand. "Hi. Ron Hunter...Gary Carson my copilot, our engineer Dan Bright, and air movements coordinator, Jim Perkins. Get yourself some grub and join us."

"Thanks. We'll do that."

Shelley tugged at his sleeve as they went to the steam table to get supper. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

"Think fast, sweetie. This is our big chance. You want to get down south you better come up with a reason why these guys should take us with them."

"You think that's wise?"

"Of course. We stand a better chance of getting out of this thing alive flying in that old Lockheed than we do staying with the helicopter."

"But what are they going to think if we just leave our plane like that. Doesn't that seem suspicious?"

"That's why you've got to come up with a good story. You're the one with the imagination."

They stalled, selecting the different dishes that spanned the steam table, while Shelley's brain ticked over, trying desperately to make up a story for the cargo captain. John heaped together mashed potatoes, covered in thick gravy, with two large patties of Salisbury steak, and a side order of carrots and peas mixture. Shelley was more discriminating. Taking smaller portions, she opted for the cutlet and what passed for fresh salad.

"Well, creative lady. What's our story?"

"I think we should make use of daddy."

"I don't get you."

"We tell them I'm the daughter of Chief Justice Blackbird and I've been ordered home as soon as possible because my mother has been in an accident. You were told to get me here and we were going to try to get a private jet to come for me."

"Sounds okay for you, but what about me?"

"My uncle, General Bird has ordered you to accompany me home. We had to come here by helicopter to make the connection. Do you think they'll buy it?"

Returning to the dining room they joined the others and began to eat.

"So what are a couple of Noramoil pilots doing here at Tuk?"

"Shelley's mother was in a serious accident back in Washington, and we're going to try to make a connecting flight out of here."

"Good luck. You're getting kinda late in the season to get a lift south. What did you say you're name was again, Shelley?"

"Blackbird. You probably know my father."

"The Chief Justice?"

"That's daddy."

"If you don't mind me making a suggestion, we'll be back in Seattle tonight. It's a noisy old bird, but it's reliable. We've got plenty of room on board. And tomorrow you can connect with Transcontinental."

"That's sounds terrific, " said Shelley. "John has to come too. Uncle Alex ordered him to take care of me."

"Uncle Alex?"

"Yes. General Bird. The commanding officer at unit eight."

"No problem. We've got plenty of room for both of you. What are you going to do about your chopper, John?"

"Get one of the ground crew to put on its cover and we'll pick it up on our return trip."

"Take your time with supper. Gary and I have to check the weather and file a flight plan. I'll have to include your names on the manifest. Is that Blackbird and Robins?"

They all laughed when they heard him say the names of two birds.

"That's right, Ron. And thanks again. You're a real dear," said Shelley.

They continued with their meal and the other crew members left to prepare for the return flight.

"You're a real dear...", repeated John, with a slight edge to his tone."Isn't that laying it on a bit thick?"

"Do I detect a slight note of jealousy?"

"What have I got to be jealous about. You don't really care."

She touched his arm. He could feel the warmth of her hand through his flight suit.

"That's where you're wrong. I do care."

Supper finished, they went to the round hut that housed the weather station. The surface wind had increased since their arrival. Snow was piling up in drifts around the dark silhouette of their helicopter. Inside the office the crew had just finished with their met briefing.

"Not going to be as nice as I thought," said Captain Hunter. "The arctic front that's been idling off the coast has decided to come ashore and we could be in for some heavy icing."

Do you think we should delay and see what happens?" asked John.

"I don't think so. We've gone through heavy rime icing with this old bird. It can take it. I'm just concerned about getting out of here before the weather clamps in. These things sometimes can last for days and you're stuck."

"Well we won't delay you. I've got to pick up a few things from my plane and we'll be ready to leave."

"That's fine, John." He looked towards Shelley. "If you like you can board now."

"Thanks. I have some things to get too. We'll just be a couple of minutes."

The two plodded through the snow which was rapidly collecting around their helicopter. The temperature had dropped drastically since supper.

"Must be frontal passage."

"What's that?"

"The cold front that Ron was talking about. We'd better hurry. It's not going to take too much of this to close the runway."

They hurried with their baggage back to the plane, its propellers swirling snow behind its pod shaped fuselage. Jim Perkins, the air movements steward, held the top of the ladder as they struggled against the wind to climb aboard. Once inside they felt the roar of the engines vibrating throughout the hollow pod. They both went forward to the pilot's compartment. Ron Hunter pulled off his headset.

"You got everything?"

"We're ready when you are," said John.

"Okay. Strap in back there and we'll get this show on the road."

The noise in the back of the empty cargo craft as he increased the power on the engines for take off was deafening. Shelley put her hands over her ears to block out the sound as much as possible. Perkins reached into his carry on parachute bag and pulled out two extra headsets with extension cords and mikes and gave them to John and Shelley. John plugged them into junction boxes which let them hear the transmissions in the cockpit.

They felt the aircraft straining as it lumbered down the runway of snow and ice. It felt like forever before it lifted off.

"I thought for a minute we were going to taxi all the way to Seattle," said John on the intercom.

"It's that damn rime icing. You get a thin coat of that, and it takes a lot more power to get off."

"Are we okay now?" asked John.

"No problem. The deicer boots cleared the wings. We get above this stuff and we should have smooth sailing," assured Ron.

The jump seats which extended down each side of the old plane were very uncomfortable to sit on. Shelley tried to lie down but the metal bars which divided each seat pressed into her. Perkins went to the back of the aircraft and opened a large survival container and removed a sleeping bag. Reaching in again he pulled out an inflatable air mattress. He came forward with them and shouting, to be heard over the noise of the plane, offered them to Shelley.

Within minutes of wiggling her way into the goose down bag, she was fast asleep. All the stress of the day drained from her face. John studied her peaceful beauty.
Jim, sitting beside him remarked, "Nice looking lady."

"Yeah. She's that alright."

"Must be something having a good looking woman like that as your copilot."

"You get used to it."

"I'd find it hard to keep my mind on my work with someone like that around."

"Look, Jimmy, if you don't mind I think I'm going to try to catch a few zees myself."

"No. Not at all. I don't mind. If you like, I'll get a bag for you too."

"I'd like that."

The monotonous drone of the engines soon got to John and he was back in the Domain, telling all his old friends about the horrendous journey he had endured. He saw Sandra, smiling, then he saw blood running down her legs and her body being hurled to the Warbies. It was happening all over again. He sat bolt upright and shouted her name, but no one heard him. Shelley was still asleep, and Jim had gone up front to be with the others.

Closing his eyes again, he fell into a deep sleep. No dreaming this time, just complete surrender to the exhaustion which had finally caught up with him.

A loud banging outside the cargo pod wakened Shelley and John. It sounded like something had come loose and was being whipped by the wind against the fuselage. The crashing continued. The temperature dropped below freezing in the cargo bay. John unzipped his sleeping bag and tried to stand but the violent movements of the aircraft forced him back onto his knees.

"What is it, John? What's happening?" asked Shelley, terrified by the apparent lack of control of their plane.

"Stay where you are. I'll go forward and find out."

He struggled to his feet again and swung open the door to the pilot's compartment, and climbed the few steps up to the flight deck. Both pilots and the engineer were fighting to keep control of their floundering craft.

"What the hell's going on? he shouted, over the din of the crashing ice which had smashed windows at the rear of the pilot's compartment.

"Worse damn storm I've ever been in," cried Ron, tugging at the control column. "They said there was a chance of light rime icing, but this is ridiculous."

"There's something banging at the back, Skipper. Sounds like something has come loose," said John.

"Yeah, I know. That's the radio antenna. Got so much ice built up on it, it broke loose and it keeps banging against the side. We've got more to worry about up here."

"Like what, for Chrissake?"

"Can't keep the nose up. We've been losing altitude for the last half hour. Got both engines on full power but it's not enough. If we keep going down at this rate, we'll be in the mountains in no time."

"What's happened with the deicer boots?"

"Too much build up. They can't break it off."

"Have you sent out a distress?"

"Radio's gone too. Gary got off our last position about two hours ago. You'd better go back and wake your partner. It doesn't look good."

Standing at the bottom of the short ladder which led to the flight deck, Shelley had been listening to the exchange. She grabbed John by the ankle.

"I'm here, John. What's happening?"

He backed out of the cockpit and returned down the ladder.

"Help me break out that safety equipment. We're going to need it."

"We're going to crash?"

"Very possible. Come on, let's get started."

With great difficulty, as they were being jostled from side to side they made it to the safety equipment at the rear of the cargo compartment and began pulling out the duffle bags with survival gear. They dragged the bags forward to the main bulkhead and stacked them against the metal partition. John fastened cargo retainer ropes to the sides of the aircraft then attached them to himself and Shelley. Sitting on the floor, their backs against the pliant duffle bags, John pulled the ropes hard, tying the two of them securely. He put on his headset and reported to the captain.

"We're secure back here, Skipper."

"Good. If you know any prayers I think we'd all appreciate a good word about now."

Their imaginations were driving them wild as they waited in the cold cargo section for that inevitable smash.

"Is this going to be it, John?"

"Sweetie, I have no idea. I just don't think IAM's going to let it all end here. Not after what I've been through."

"Why don't you ask for his help?"

"You don't even know about him. There was so much I wanted to tell you."

"Then start now. Tell me now, Johnny."

The unreality of their whole situation made him smile. They were shouting at each other to make themselves heard over the noise of the engines and the howling wind and sleet which was forcing their plane down. Here was his new companion wanting to know what it was that was driving him on.

"It's too hard to talk with this noise. I promise, when we get out of this mess, and I'll tell you everything. But for now, just sit tight and hope Ron can work a miracle."

She pressed against him, trying to draw from him some of the resolve he was showing. He leaned over and kissed her. She parted her lips and he felt her warm breath enter his mouth, dry with fear he didn't want to show.

Suddenly Ron shouted over the intercom. "Hold on back there. We've broken through the undercast. We've got maybe five hundred feet clearance between the tops of the mountains and the base of all this crud. If we can hold it here for awhile, we might get some relief from the ice."

"Anything you want me to do, Skipper? asked John.

"Just keep looking after that good looking copilot of yours. We wouldn't want to disappoint her daddy."

The clumsy cargo plane continued to maintain clearance above the jagged peaks below them. The sky was brightening in the distance and Captain Hunter saw the edge of the front moving away from them. With a great sigh of relief he came back onto the intercom.

"If you want to come up front now, you can see what it's like to have your prayers answered. I don't know who it was on this old crate had the power, but I do know we're out of it at last."

John unfastened the restraining ropes and helped Shelley to her feet. Together they went forward and joined the others. The release of the tension they had all been through started them giggling with pure joy.

"Now all we have to do, is find out where we are," said Ron.

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