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Xavier opened his eyes sluggishly.Where the hell? Cockpit. It all rushed back. The fight. The crash. He glanced around him. His body hurt. The cockpit was dark. The windows that were intact were covered with snow but one window on the right side of the cockpit was gone and a large tree branch was stuck in it. It must have hit him and that’s why he passed out he surmised as it was on an angle behind his seat. The open window brought light but also cold.
He took a minute to just breathe. How had this happened again? He forced himself remain to calm and then started an inventory of his body making sure everything was functioning. He was good. His left hand was numb but functional other than his left arm. The rest of him was bruised and battered but okay. He survived another aircraft crash. His limbs trembled and his breath quickened. How was he still alive? Why was he the one to survive? Why couldn’t it have been Jamie? His mind raced.
His groan was ragged and agonized, and the smell of smoke and blood clogged his sinuses. He was no longer sitting in the cockpit of a private jet but rather lying injured on the deck of the aircraft carrier listening to his friends die around him. He couldn’t breathe. The full horror of what happened hit him again. His hands shook as his lungs screamed for air. This couldn’t be happening again.
He squeezed his eyes shut and managed to draw in some oxygen. Then a second breath. The pain in his chest eased off and he opened one eye. Cockpit of the downed plane, not a helicopter. Not a Navy carrier. He was alive and, better yet, relatively unhurt. He took a few more steadying breaths and then forced his focus to his current situation. He might be okay but he was not out of the woods yet.
Marshaling his strength, he tried the radio but there was no power. At least the tower would have an idea of where they went down. He slowly undid his seat belt. His left arm was as numb as his hand had been. He moved it around some and the tingling started. Not injured then, just stressed. He struggled to stand, his knees wobbling a moment before accepting his full weight. He turned trying to figure out a way around the branch. Glancing down he suddenly realized the branch had impaled Simon. The gaping hole in his torso was the source of the metallic smell of blood. If the man hadn’t died from the knock on the head, then he was certainly dead now.
Fuck. Explaining how this happened was going to be fun. How had it happened? Seriously, what the fuck? He just couldn’t understand what the hell Simon had been doing. His brain just didn’t want to take anything in. Couldn’t process. He took a moment to try and get his equilibrium back. Letting out another breath, he finally ducked down and crawled beneath the branch, going slowly in case his knees decided to give out. Then he pushed open the door to the rest of the fuselage. It must have slammed shut in the crash.
It turned out the rest of the fuselage was only maybe twenty feet. The whole back end of the plane was gone. Lucky to be alive didn’t cover it. He choked back the bile rising in his throat.
Snow blew into the rear of the aircraft. Lots of wires were hanging and swinging in the wind. There were bits of glass and plane debris all over the place. He leaned against the wall just outside the cockpit door. He’d survived another crash but it just didn’t seem real. His body shook and his vision blurred. This was just fuckin’ crazy.
A groan reached his ears. He forced himself to focus as he stumbled forward, glass crunching under his feet. The passenger was slumped over the seat next to her, still strapped in. He hadn’t seen her because the seat ahead of her had been ripped out and was resting on the seat next to it blocking his view.
Moving as quickly as his banging head would allow, he made his way to her, moving debris out of the way and off her. She groaned again when he touched her. What the hell had her name been?Allegra Wagner.
“Ms. Wagner,” he said as he ran his hands over her checking for injuries.
She’d sustained a scalp laceration, which was bleeding profusely, but there didn’t appear to be any broken bones. He’d be willing to bet she was bruised beyond belief just like he was. His rapid examination wouldn’t reveal any internal injuries. Only time would tell that. The thought that she might die paralyzed him, if only for a second.You can do this.
He cleared his throat and tried again. “Ms. Wagner,” he said in a louder voice. Her eyelids fluttered. “Allegra!” he snapped.
Her eyes opened and stared at him uncomprehendingly.
“Wha—what happened?” she murmured.
He held her chin with his fingers. “We crashed. What hurts?”
She struggled to sit up. “Everything.”
He put a hand on her shoulder. “Wait, don’t move. Tell me first what hurts. I need to know…” he was about to say something about her bleeding internally but caught himself. Freaking her out wouldn’t help the situation. “I need to know specifically what hurts so we can assess your injuries.”
She blinked and licked her lips. “My ribs,” she pointed to the ribs that were against her armrest. “My head,” she added as she pointed to the laceration. She brushed blood out of her eye and then stared at her hand. “I’m cut?”
“It’s just a small laceration.” She still seemed confused so he went on. “Cuts to the scalp bleed a lot. No need to worry.”
She nodded and then grunted. “The rest of me is battered. But not too bad.” She eased herself into a sitting position, against his protests. “I’m fine. Well, not fine but my head lac is okay and I’m pretty sure my ribs are only bruised.” She raised her green sweater and looked at her ribs. “Just bruised, see? If I had internal bleeding, you’d see a large pool of blood under the skin.” She dropped her sweater. “That’s what you were checking for, isn’t it? Internal bleeding?”
He hesitated and then nodded and immediately regretted it. He had a bit of a concussion if he had to guess. Moving his head wasn’t the best idea.
“I’m a doctor. I can diagnose myself. I’m fine. Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on it and let you know if my situation changes.” She looked at him with renewed interest. “What about you?”
“Just a bump on the back of the head.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Any double vision or nausea?”
“No. I’m fine.”Liar.
He was a lot of things, freaked out, in shock, struggling to keep it together, check, check, and check. But fine? Not a chance.
“What about the other guy? Wait! What the fuck happened?” She started to get up and crashed back down since her seatbelt was still holding her in place.
“I’m not entirely sure.” Xavier told her the truth. He didn’t really want to get into all that now. “Simon is dead.”
