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A whimper has my head whipping around.
“Salem,” I whisper as I force myself to leave my brother and check on her.
I drag myself out of the cockpit and freeze for a second when I realize the entire back of the plane is gone. If we had gone down thirty minutes earlier, when Salem was in the shower, we would have lost her.
I turn when I hear her whimpering again. She’s still in her seat, but the one next to her has twisted and bent, pinning her legs in place. I pull at it. It creaks, but it doesn’t give.
“Salem. Honey, can you hear me?”
There is nothing for a second before I hear the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.
“Zig?” I can hear the tears in her voice as it shakes.
“Are you hurt?”
“I…don’t think so, but I can’t get out. My legs are stuck.”
Most of my view of her is obstructed by the seat trapping her, but I manage to maneuver myself enough that she can see me.
“There you are,” I say softly as she looks up at me and bursts into tears.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m going to get you out. Just calm down for me, okay?”
She swallows, and though the tears continue to flow, her whimpers die out.
“I need to have a look and see how you’re pinned. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
“Oz?” she asks.
I look at her and swallow. “Let’s just get you out first, alright?”
I don’t want to lie to her, but if I can’t get us help, and soon, Oz won’t make it. My best bet is to free Salem so she can watch over him while I try to find help. I don’t think about the unlikelihood of that. The Lacandon jungle is almost two million hectares in size, which is around the size of New Jersey, but it’s not without its own people. Around seven hundred Maya are reported to live here. It’s something I have to cling to if I don’t want the grief to overwhelm me. Oz isn’t just my brother. He’s my twin. I can’t lose him. Losing him would be like losing part of myself.
I get to my knees, my body protesting with every move. The only thing not hurting right now is my broken arm, and that’s more worrying than if it were. The metal of the chair is twisted, though thankfully not cutting into Salem’s feet, it doesn’t leave any wiggle room for her to pull them free.
I grip the metal and try to slide my fingers between the twisted frame and Salem’s skin, but I can’t. I curse and move my hand up, trying to find weakened areas. If I could use both arms, I might be able to pull apart the two pieces of metal where they meet, but I can’t do it with one hand.
I bite back a curse before climbing back up and looking down at her. “It won’t give.”
“You can’t get me out?” Panic makes her eyes wide as she looks at me beseechingly.
“One of my arms is broken. I…” I don’t know what to say. I can’t leave either of them like this, but if I stay, we’ll all die here together. I have to at least try to get help.
“Zig?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I get a hug?”
I have no idea how, but if she wants a fucking hug, I’ll give her one. I lean through the gap, praying that the chair I’m leaning on doesn’t put any weight on her feet, and slide my arm around her. I bump my broken arm, but the pain doesn’t come. I’m no doctor, but I’d say I’ve damaged the nerves.
I don’t dwell on it, not now. All I focus on is Salem’s hug. She reaches up and slides her hands around my shoulders, her hands holding onto me tightly.
“Don’t let go until I tell you to.”
“Salem.”
“Promise me,” she yells.
