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“Clear,” I confirm.
I stare at the wreckage and swallow, taking a second to let it soak in how lucky we are. Nobody would have survived being in this end.
“Let’s see if there is anything salvageable. And for fuck’s sake, be careful. I do not want to carry your ass back.”
“Well, there goes my plan to pick up a little cocktail of infectious diseases. I had a right hankering for some tetanus too.”
“Why must everything be a joke with you?”
“Because if I don’t joke, I might just remember we’re all going to die in the jungle. It’s not the way I planned to go out.”
He grunts but doesn’t say anything more.
The tail is wedged at an angle between two trees that have bowed under its weight. I squat and offer Zig a boost so he can look inside. He laughs at whatever he sees.
“What is it?”
“The mattress is still here. How? I don’t know, but if we can get it out, at least it will give us something more comfortable to offer Salem than the ground tonight.”
“Think it will hold your weight if you climb in?”
“Only one way to find out.” He pulls off his shirt, leaving himself in just his wife beater, and tears it in two, using each piece to wrap around his hands before he hauls himself up and disappears over the edge of the tail’s mangled frame.
CHAPTEREIGHT
Salem
Ilook around the plane and wonder where to start. Clearing a path might be the best way to go so I don’t inadvertently break my neck. I gather up the debris and items that broke in the crash and pile them into the corner, not sure if the guys will be able to repurpose any of it. Once the aisle is clear, I start tugging open the overhead compartments that didn’t already open. Most are empty, but the last two contain a few backpacks. I pull them down, grunting under their weight.
“Fuck, what is in these things? Bricks?” As much as I want to investigate, I know I need to keep searching because once it gets dark, it will be impossible to do so safely.
The small table with a chair on either side has flipped up. The only thing keeping it in place is a single bolt. I get to my knees and reach under the table to try to loosen it with my fingers, but it proves to be stubborn. I’ll have to wait for the guys to come back. If we can get this out of the way, it will give us more room to move around.
Giving up, I turn around and see something that catches my eye underneath the other table. I crawl on my hands and knees, cursing when something cuts into my hand. It feels worse than it looks. Still, I look down and see the shard of broken metal and make sure I avoid it so I don’t rip my knees to shreds.
I move under the larger table, which is still intact, and blow out a breath. It’s so hot, and even the simplest movements are causing me to sweat, making the T-shirt I’m wearing stick to my back. I run my fingers around the paneling, and when my finger dips inside an indentation, the door pops open. It’s a fridge.
“Holy crap.” Inside, I find bottles of water, cans of soda, a bottle of vodka, a bottle of whiskey, and a huge bag of something.
I tug the bag out so I can get a better look. Drugs. Lots and lots of drugs. Before my mind can go to a dark place, I realize most of them are over-the-counter pills mixed in with antibiotics and antihistamines. Those will come in handy.
Behind the bag of drugs are another couple of paper bags like the one Zig gave me before. I pull one out, and sure enough, there is a sandwich, an apple, a protein drink, and a bar of chocolate. My stomach growls at that moment, but I know we’ll need to ration our food. The thought of running out and starving to death makes my body feel ice-cold for a second, despite the heat. But I don’t give in to the panic. I don’t know enough about the jungle to assume starvation is a pressing issue. I only hope Zig and Oz know more about the animals and vegetation than I do because when this runs out, we’ll need to find something else to sustain us.
As tempting as it is to take something, I don’t. I shove it all back in the fridge, even though it’s not that cold anymore. The sandwiches will have to be eaten today before they spoil, but that can wait.
I climb back out, bumping my head on the table, which moves slightly where I hit it. Frowning, I slip my hands underneath and lift it before snorting. The table lifts on a hinge, probably to make it easier to get to the fridge. Wish I’d known that sooner.
“Well done, Salem.” I shake my head as I get to my feet and leave the table up for now.
I walk down the rest of the aisle, but nothing else pops out at me. When I reach the edge where the guys jumped down, I peer over before moving back.
“They must be out of their damn minds,” I mutter before turning and heading to the cockpit.
The glass is shattered, covering the controls and littering the floor. I look at the chair that Oz was in and swallow when I see all the blood, remembering how close he was to dying. There were moments, many of them, over the years that I viewed my gift as more of a curse. But knowing I was able to save both Oz and Zig after they risked everything to save me can only be seen as a blessing. If I couldn’t heal, Oz would have died before nightfall. And with the bleed on Zig’s brain, he wouldn’t have fared much longer himself. I’d have been forced to watch them fade away, knowing that it would take me days before I succumbed to the same fate. Just enough time for their bodies to decompose and smell as I slowly lost my mind.
I shake off those morose thoughts and focus on the here and now, ignoring the metallic smell of blood in the air. I run my fingers over the control panels, pressing things willy-nilly. I fight back a slightly manic giggle at the vision in my head of an ejector button tossing me through the roof. Clearly, my obsession with all thingsTop Gunhas made me a little loopy.
Nothing responds. Nothing lights up, and with a dejected sigh, I wrap my arms around myself, feeling very small and very alone. I turn back to the main part of the plane, hoping Oz and Zig hurry back. I feel stronger when they’re beside me. Heading back that way, I stop when I realize one of the panels beside Oz’s seat is bent open. It’s not surprising given the state of the plane, so why am I drawn to it?
