crews were wasting resources and los-
ing sleep because he’d taken one too
many shortcuts. Joanna was probably
terrified. He wanted to get up and
power through the darkness, but he
knew he’d only end up in more trouble.S
hortly after midnight, Captain
Dellinger’s phone rang. It was
the Loudoun County Sheriff ’s
Office, offering its search-and-rescue
drone. At $94,000 (for the device,
training, and maintenance), the quad-
copter, as it is officially called, is the
hot new gear all search-and-rescue
chiefs want but few can afford.
The following morning, as the sil-
houette of the mountains emerged,
teams of rescuers with bloodhounds
started on the trail Bill had hiked. At
the same time, Loudoun County mas-
ter deputy Matthew Devaney and his
copilot, Jamie Holben, set up a launch
area for the drone, then waited for the
signal to send it out.
This was the first time they would
fly the drone in a real rescue situation.
Any failure would be red meat for
detractors, who called it a taxpayer-
funded toy. The device has a three-
mile line of sight and a high-def
camera so powerful, Devaney says,
“you can see the nose on a guy’s face
on the ground from 400 feet up.”
At 9 a.m., it was time. As Devaney
worked the joysticks, Holben called
out adjustments. Threading the drone
between tall trees, they sent it flying
toward the search area.At the same time, one of the track-
ing teams came upon a spot where
some branches had been tamped
down into a sort of mattress. They
had heard the lost hunter was an old
woodsman. Such a comfortable nest
had to be the work of a master’s hand.T
hat morning, Bill had wo-
ken before dawn, replaying his
wrong turns and imagining his
wife’s despair. He never worried once
that he wouldn’t find his way back,
only about what would be waiting for
him when he got there.
Just after 7 a.m., the sky lightened
and the thicket around him began to
reappear. He ate a few snacks and got
ready to battle with the laurel.
The light was still bad, and each step
took some thought to avoid thorns or a
twisted ankle. After about 15 minutes,
Bill came to a spot where he could
see the landscape around him more
clearly. There, only a few hundred
yards away, was the line of trees he had
been hoping to reach the night before.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” he
yelled to the woods.
Within 15 more minutes, Bill
emerged from the thicket and began a
slow ascent to the ridgeline. He knew
the trackers couldn’t be too far away.
He began pushing himself harder.
He’d better make it to the Jeep before
they made it to him.
Now that the deputies had the
drone up, they could see the forest
as clear as a crow. But they saw little104 june 2019
Reader’s Digest