Chapter 5
Selene
As I wait for her decision, minutes drift by like snowflakes — lazy at first, then piling up into mounds of wasted time that lead nowhere. My phone buzzes against my hip every few minutes with another weather alert, but Dr. Winters keeps reviewing Holly's file, her eyes glued to the screen.
“Not to rush you, but Marcus just sent an update, and we need to move. Like, right now.”
She doesn't even lift her gaze from her computer screen.
“These BNP levels,” she mutters to herself. “Why did they spike so fast?”
“Alexia!”
The use of her first name makes her head snap up, her eyes finally meeting mine.
“Did you hear anything I just said? We're running out of time. The FAA is about to ground all flights,” I press.
“Don't rush me. This kind of situation needs to be reviewed a million times. If we overlook even the smallest detail-”
“Can't you review those details in the damn helicopter?” I snap, my voice rising higher than necessary, but her caution is driving me insane.
“No.”
“Look,” I turn my phone screen toward her, showing the weather radar where a mass of blue and white swirls toward us like it's about to devour the entire East Coast.
“That's…”
“Yeah, the mother of all snowstorms you've ever seen, and it's heading straight for us. Either we leave within the hour, or we can kiss that heart goodbye,” I growl, letting out a frustrated huff.
“If I make one mistake, no matter how small, not only will it not help Holly, but we'll be preventing another child in her condition from being saved. I need to check on her,” she announces, jumping up and striding out of the office.
I linger in the doorway. Holly looks exhausted. Her skin has lost even its recent pallor, fading to an ashen gray. From where I stand, I can see how much she struggles to breathe despite the oxygen cannula.
Dr. Winters's desperate expression says it all without words.
“Selene,” Holly mumbles from her bed. “Did the giant pigeons attack you today?”
“Not yet, Captain Holly, but the day isn't over,” I answer, fighting to keep my voice steady as I take in her condition.
I force a smile for her sake, but her life is slipping away, and if we don't act soon, it'll be too late.
“Mom says the storm's gonna be really big. You shouldn't go out,” she warns.
“You should see sandstorms. They're way worse. But don't worry, if I have to go out, I'll be super careful,” I assure her.
“Promise?”
“Pinky promise,” I whisper, moving closer to link our fingers together.
In that moment, I catch Dr. Winters's eye, and something passes between us. Maybe understanding, maybe shared desperation. Maybe something else entirely.
“That heart in Burlington is her only option, isn't it?” I ask when we're back in the hallway.
“Yes,” she sighs. “But this storm…”
“I've flown in worse conditions with people shooting at me.”
“Not in civilian airspace without support systems and an organ that's too time-sensitive.”
“Then I don't know what we're waiting for, Alexia,” I whisper, stepping closer to her as we enter her office. “I know you're scared — these aren't ideal flying conditions, but I watched my little sister die waiting for a heart that never came. I won't do it again. Not when there's a chance to save Holly, however small.”
“Are you sure you can fly in these conditions?”
“Sure enough to bet our lives on it,” I answer without hesitation.
“Fine, I'll request authorization and go with you.”
“Come on, Alexia, request the damn authorization from the helicopter. Let's go now!”
“I want to save that child as much as you do, get that through your thick skull,” she snaps, her body pressing against mine. “But you can't ask me to risk everything on an unauthorized flight.”
“I'm just asking you to save Holly's life. When the storm passes, it'll be too late,” I counter.
“You think I don't know that?”
“Then stop hiding behind protocol while a child dies.”
“I'm not hiding behind any protocol,” she growls, shoving my shoulder, her chest rising with each deep breath. “If we crash, we won't help anyone.”
“We won't crash.”
“You can't guarantee that.”
“Shut up, Alexia,” I whisper against her lips.
Her eyes widen in surprise and time seems to stop. She places her hands on my waist, pushing me against the wall and letting out a soft moan when her tongue meets mine.
“Damn,” she sighs as we part, closing her eyes and slowly shaking her head.
“We should leave now, Alexia,” I repeat, lowering my voice and running my hand along her left arm.
She stares at me intently, her breathing rapid. She runs her fingertips across her lips, and for a moment, I'm not sure if she's going to kiss me again or slap me. She does neither.
“I'll request authorization, and we'll wait for the response while we fly,” she hisses. “But if we crash and die, I'll never forgive you,” she adds, pointing her index finger at me before starting to type on her computer.