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They walked to the end of the line, where a single plane stood on the runway and was ready to board. She couldn’t help herself, and she looked up at it before looking back at Cyrus. He looked confident … excited even … as he approached the steps that led up to the plane.
She gave him a smile filled with mirth. “I like that there’s always something new to learn about you.”
He led the way, directing her to the front of the cabin. She could count the number of times she’d been in the cockpit on her hands, and it was only now that she had the freedom to actually look at it. There were two seats in front of a large window that crossed the front of the plane like an eye. On the dashboard in front of the seats, there were a number of dials, buttons, levers, and tools that she couldn’t begin to name.
Mila plopped herself into the white leather co-pilot’s seat and watched Cyrus with blatant interest. He slid into the seat beside her with impossible grace, his large frame managing to appear light and nimble as he flipped levers and pressed buttons. The DaVinci code stirred life into the plane’s engine.
He leaned over, grabbed her seat belt, and buckled it for her. The muscles in his forearms tensed as he snapped it into place. “What happens when I run out of new things to share?” he said playfully.
“Huh?” she stammered, drawing her attention up from his arm.
He settled back into his seat, strapped himself down, and checked a few of the dials. “When you know everything about me, and I have nothing new to share, what will you like about me then?” He sat back, titling his head lazily in her direction. He was unshaven, the wild hairs of his dense beard adding a layer of rugged charm that made the green in his hazel eyes dance across the pools of amber surrounding his iris.
She opened her eyes as if she were in shock. “Are you fishing for compliments?”
“Not completely. Part of me is curious about the answer.”
“And the other part likes …”
“… when you stroke my ego, or anything on me for that matter.” His eyes darkened, and she saw a flash of his polar bear.
“Well, get me to our destination safely, and we’ll see what happens,” she said cheekily.
He laughed. The soft rumble caressed her ears as he started the plane. Mila slipped a pair of noise-canceling headphones over her ears and sat back as Cyrus took them into the air. The feeling was the same, yet different. With Cyrus, even the most mundane things became new and exciting.
She took comfort in the familiar dip in her gut as the plane leveled out. “So, how long of a trip should I be expecting?”
“It’s going to be around ten hours. We’re heading northeast through Canada. Eventually, we’ll make a stop to get more fuel and give the engines a quick check. After that, it’s straight toward the Arctic.”
Mila had to admit the past few days had been more than she could have hoped for. It was just so simple. Easy. Effortless.
Sometimes it felt like there was no difference between them. Like they were never meant to be apart, never meant to live separate lives.
They fell into a smooth rhythm while traveling. The hours passed as they entertained each other with stories of their childhood, debated over movie villains, and talked about all the places they wanted to see together.
Mila could feel the anxiety rising in Cyrus as they were getting closer to the Arctic. He hid it well, she doubted anyone else would see anything other than confidence, but she knew better.
After a particularly long stretch of silence, she glanced at him next to her in the pilot’s seat. He looked to be deep in thought. His arms were crossed in front of him, his face neutral as he stared aimlessly at the dials.
“You all right?” She turned to the side so she could face him.
“Yeah. I’m good. Just thinking.” He gave her a sheepish smile.
“About …” she coaxed.
He sighed, sweeping his arm out and gesturing to the general vicinity. “This all feels surreal. Finally getting to something concrete after so many years of searching, it almost feels like I’m waiting for something to go wrong. For something to happen, that sends it all to hell again.”
“Cyrus …” She leaned forward, placing her hand over his.
“I know it’s nihilistic, but I’ve spent my entire life trying to figure out what happened. I exhausted all leads, hunting down anything or anyone that could give me a clue or point me in the right direction of what happened. I learned everything, employing the help of wind condition experts, survivalist experts.” He shook his head, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips. “I even visited some of the world’s best astrologers and psychics to try and recover the bodies.” His smile slipped. “Nothing was ever found.”
“And you’re worried that we’ll hit another dead end?”
“I’m worried that this time we could run into something a whole lot worse than a dead end.” His eyes held an unspoken question.
Do you still want to do this?They seemed to say.
Did she?
