Page 38 of Dead Perfect


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Feeling an unexpected sense of regret that he couldn’t save them all, Ronan summoned his preternatural powers and transported himself and Shannah out of the plane and onto the ground, well away from the airplane’s trajectory.

Standing there in the dark, holding Shannah in his arms, he watched the nose of the plane hit the ground. It balanced there for a moment and then, as if it was moving in slow motion, the aircraft flipped over and broke in half. Even before it burst into flames, he knew there would be no survivors.

He glanced at Shannah, still spellbound in his arms, and wondered how he would explain the fact that they had survived the crash when no one else had. And then he shrugged. There were countless stories of people who had made miraculous escapes from accidents where no one should have survived.

He glanced at the night sky. No doubt the pilot had sent out a call for help before the plane crashed. How long would it take for rescuers to arrive on the scene? And what should he do until then? Should he wait here for help to arrive, or should he transport himself and Shannah home to California? If he left the scene now, there was a distinct possibility that it could cause questions that might be hard to answer later. For instance, if asked, how would Shannah explain leaving the crash site and getting home? They were miles from the nearest city. Damn!

It would be an easy thing to transport them to his house but it seemed wiser to stay. He hadn’t survived this long by drawing attention to himself.

Carrying Shannah further away from the wreck, he found a cleared grassy area. He would wait with her as long as he could, and then he would have to seek shelter from the sun.

Sitting down, he stroked Shannah’s hair while he spoke quietly to her mind. “Shannah, listen to me. The plane crashed. We managed to get out just before it caught fire and ran to safety. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

“If they ask you any questions, you don’t remember anything else. If I’m not here when you wake up, you’re to tell anyone who asks that I went looking for help. Is that clear?”

“We got out of the plane before it caught fire,” she said, her voice flat. “If you’re not here when I wake up, I’m to tell anyone who asks that you went looking for help.”

He kissed her cheek. “Good girl.”

Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew all the cash he had and stuffed it into the pocket of her slacks.

For a time, he stared at the flames, his thoughts filled with death. He had seen much of it in his time, most of it needless. Mankind was a violent race. He had seen wars, large and small. He had seen mighty kings and rulers rise and fall. He had seen fathers and sons turn against one another, arguing over a scrap of land or a difference in politics or religion. He had seen men ride off to war, certain of victory, seen those same men lying dead on the field of battle. Death. The world was full of it.

He held Shannah in his arms, content to do so until he sensed the coming of dawn. Though he hated to leave her out there, alone, he had no other choice.

He trailed his fingertips over her cheek. “Shannah,” he murmured, “you will sleep until someone awakens you. You will not be afraid to get on another plane for the trip home. If I don’t find you before you get home, I’ll meet you there. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

“Dammit, I don’t want to leave you out here alone!”

Even as he said the words, he felt the first rays of the sun on his back, heard the whirring of a helicopter overhead.

Dropping a quick kiss on Shannah’s brow, he dissolved into mist and disappeared into the deep shadows of the woods.

Shannah woke feeling groggy and bewildered, with no memory of what had happened between the time the plane started going down and a uniformed police officer woke her up.

The area around the crash site was crawling with people and they all asked her questions, questions for which she had no answers.

“All I remember is running away from the plane. I don’t remember anything after that.” If she said it once, she said it a hundred times. But did she really remember running away from the crash? Even though she had said it dozens of times, she had no clear memory of running from the plane, no lingering sense of fear at coming so close to a fiery death.

Finally, an ambulance drove her to a hospital in La Porte City where a doctor checked her over from head to toe, declared, in amazement, that she didn’t have a scratch on her, and released her. The airlines put her up in a hotel and gave her a ticket home that was good any time she felt like using it.

When she reached her room in the hotel, she went straight to bed, only to lie there wondering where Ronan was. Why had he left her alone and gone for help when there was no need?

Where had he gone? And where was he now?

She rolled onto her side and closed her eyes. Why had the two of them survived when everyone else on board had perished? She wasn’t anxious to die, but it seemed unfair that she should survive when she was dying anyway. Suddenly overcome with guilt, she burst into tears.

She wept for all the people who had died, wept for her own life, which would end all too soon, wept for the husband and the children she would never have, wept for the pain her death would bring her parents, wept until she had no tears left.

When she woke several hours later, the sun had set and Ronan was sitting on the foot of the bed, watching her.

“Ronan! How did you get here? How did you find me? Where have you been?”

“So many questions.” Rising, he moved to the side of the bed and sat down beside her. “Are you all right, love?”

Sitting up, she brushed a wisp of hair from her face. “Yes, but…”

“Are you ready to go home?”

“Yes, but…”

“No questions now.”

But she couldn’t wait. “Why didn’t we die with everyone else? Why didn’t I die? It doesn’t make sense…I should have died, too.”

“Shannah, hush, love.”

“I can’t help it. I feel so guilty for being alive when everyone else was killed. Why me? Why us?”

“Perhaps we had the most to live for?”

She shook her head. “No! I’m dying. There were people on that plane who had long lives ahead of them! Young mothers, children. It isn’t right…”

“Ah, Shannah.” He drew her into his arms and held her tight. “There are no answers to questions like that. It’s normal to feel guilty when you survive something like this, but there’s no need. It isn’t your fault the others died. It isn’t your fault that you survived. It’s just Fate. The luck of the draw, the turn of the wheel.” He smiled down at her. “Just be glad that you’re still alive, love, and make the most of whatever time you have left.”

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