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Chapter Six

     It took several hours to dig out all the victims, and Scott, Gordon and Alan were exhausted by the time they joined Virgil at the little hospital in Queenstown.
     Lucy had not been the only person killed. One of the other snowboarders had died, as had the skier who had started it all. The others had various injuries ranging from broken bones to concussion and exposure. 
     Lucy had been laid out in a side room, a bandage covering the injury to her head. Virgil kept a silent vigil by her bed. He looked up as his brothers walked in.
    “How many dead?” he asked bleakly.
    “Three including…” Scott broke off, unable to say Lucy’s name.
     “They had better keep that skier away from me. Of all the fool things to do.”
    “He’s dead,” said Alan flatly. He had helped to dig him out. It had not been a pretty sight. Scott rested a hand briefly on Alan’s shoulder. None of them enjoyed recovering bodies, but it had happened more than once in their line of work.
    Virgil received this news in silence. Then he sighed. “I’d better go and phone Lucy’s parents,” he said. 
     “I’ve already done it,” said Scott. It had been a dreadful phone call, and he was glad to have been able to spare Virgil the pain.
     Virgil nodded and turned back to the bed. He reached out and took Lucy’s hand in his own. Then his shoulders heaved and he began to sob.
     Scott put his arm around Virgil’s shoulders. “Virg, I’m so sorry,” he said. “I know how you must feel..”
     He broke off as Virgil turned to face him, his face contorted with fury. “How can you know how I feel? How can you possibly even begin to know what this feels like?” 
     Scott stepped back in the face of this onslaught, unsure, for once, what to say. Then a hand briefly gripped his shoulder and a familiar voice spoke.
     “He doesn’t know, son. You and I should both hope and pray he never will.” Jeff Tracy walked over and took Virgil in his arms. Scott had never been so glad to see his father in his life. Turning, he shooed his younger brothers before him out of the room, leaving Jeff and Virgil alone with Lucy.

     The funeral took place back in Illinois, at Lucy’s local church. It was packed to overflowing with friends she had made in her short life. International Rescue sent two representatives, both dressed in uniform, who stood, stony faced, throughout the service. When it was over they spoke briefly with Lucy’s family and left by hover bike. They went to a field on the outskirts of the city where Thunderbird Two stood by a Dutch barn. An hour later Virgil joined them, driven by Lucy’s uncle. The three men silently boarded the Thunderbird, and, with John at the controls, Jeff, Virgil and John returned to Tracy Island.

On to Chapter Seven.