Page 28 of Final Approach

“I’m going to go back in the morning,” I declared and adopted a casual lean of my own. “If he left the plane, I need to see where he went. I can’t leave him in the jungle, Nik.”

A beat—a quick second that felt like a small lifetime.

“I’ll accompany you,” he said with a tone of finality. “But I think it best we go tonight, after everyone is asleep. We might cause a slight panic if our passengers realize that their secondary pilot has gone missing. Best to go under cover of darkness.”

“Okay.” There was wisdom in that plan. “I don’t think I’ll sleep much, anyway. I’ll wake you in a few hours.”

“Not if I wake you first.” His answering grin, stretched wide with an impossible dash of whimsy, settled a morsel of the foreboding growing in my gut.

I laid down on a bed as comfortable as vinyl over concrete and placed my arm underneath my head. There were no stars tonight—no beacons in the sky to remind us of home. The moon was tucked behind dense clouds, the billowing smoke from our fire dissolving right into them.

Five days. We had to keep these people alive and find Jamie within five days. Not impossible, just … improbable. I survived improbable once, on my own, without Nikki and a madman protector. I could do it again.

The errant curls of smoke continued to filter into the navy tapestry above my head until somehow I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

Present day – Night 1

Hot, smooth skin over my mouth, smelling of peppermint and man, woke me out of a fever dream of woods and wolves.

Panic seized my limbs and froze my chest, a scream building at the back of my throat. I snatched it out of the air before it could make a sound.

“It’s just Nikki,” the returning spirit of Charlie soothed in my ear, or in my brain—I wasn’t sure. My eyes, sandy with sleep, struggled to focus on the hovering form just inches above my head.

“Shhh, love.” The voice was so soft I could barely hear it over the fizz and pop of the fire.

Shaking my head, I shot to sitting, every muscle in my body aching. We were in the jungle. It was the middle of the night. Jamie.

Nikki held out a hand, and I took it. He hauled me to my feet, gently and soundlessly, as if I were lighter than air, then he beckoned me forward. In his other hand, he held a – torch?

The dry stick in his hand, about the thickness of my fist, held a damp piece of fabric molded over the top. The flame at the end of it was small but bright, the perfect guide for the few hundred feet of our trek.

It was almost a straight shot around the meander about fifty feet away, but light without the need to use the limited power on our cellphones was a blessing. What had he used for fuel?

“Smart,” I mouthed, pointing to the torch. He shrugged one rounded shoulder and winked.

“Saw it in a movie,” he mumbled back before turning on his heel to guide me toward the riverbed’s edge, my hand still in his. His grip was sure and strong, but his consideration of my shitty shoes reminded me once again of why Nikki won everyone over in a heartbeat.

Even in a plane crash, in the middle of the night, he was so damn thoughtful.

I let go of his hand as we rounded the bend in the riverbed where the only evidence of human beings in this jungle became us and our torch.

The sounds of the night became more apparent the farther we got away from the snapping fire. A chorus of cicadas hummed in the background, behind the soft rustling of leaves and the occasional shrill cry of tree frogs.

It was oddly peaceful, far different from the symphony of sounds in the Boreal Forest, which still brought on a panic attack every time I heard it.

The wire in my bra had poked into my sternum during my restless sleep, and I rubbed the tender spot while stifling a groan. We needed to be rescued for one thousand reasons, one being I couldn’t wear a tit-trap while sleeping for much longer.

Every step closer to our crash site dulled the sounds of the night and amplified the blood pulsing through my heart.

I had crashed this plane. Me.

Or I abandoned Jamie and he crashed this plane because I wasn’t there.

Bile burned the back of my throat, hot and bitter, but I swallowed it down before my shame could be on full display as projectile vomit.

The scenario was irrelevant. Memory loss or not, this disaster was my fault.

The universe had a sick sense of humor. Within fifty feet of the plane, the clouds behind it opened up, and the moon backlit the mutilated monstrosity. Terror ripped through my veins and froze me where I stood. Nikki immediately halted in his tracks his face filled with concern I could see easily despite the shadows dancing there.