Chapter 24
I’ve been a pilot since I was nineteen. Never, in all those years of flying and training, did I feel fear like I felt a few days ago when my plane went down. But today, with the snow whipping around me and the desolation setting in, the real fear begins.
Because there’s a chance I won’t be found.
My route was going fine, and then there came a fucking private jet flying way below their intended altitude according to air traffic control, and I had to drop my flight depth so fast that my shitty little plane couldn’t handle it. I flew through their air pocket, and once I started spinning and losing the engine, I couldn’t recover.
I’m fine. My head got knocked around a little, but I managed to steer the old girl into a brutally elegant crash landing. She’s fucked, but I’m alright. My biggest problem is that my distress signal worked for a little, but then it went blank and my radios are mangled. I’m sitting in the middle of nowhere with a ruined plane, a bunch of cargo, and no idea where I am or how far I should travel from the site of the wreck.
Protocol dictates that I should stay with the plane so it’s easier for them to find me. If I get lost as a single person in the mountains, I’ll be a lot harder to find than the site of a smoking crash. But the smoke went out yesterday, and the small fires I’m trying to keep lit aren’t leaving big enough smoke signals in the air.
It’s been three days, and if I make it through another night without being attacked by wildlife, freezing to death, or passing out without waking up, I’ll have to start moving tomorrow. Doesn’t bode well for me that my biggest hope is the asshole pilot who caused the crash. If he has a damn heart, he’ll have at least called in the location he saw my plane go down.
I’m on my back, shielded by snow, poking at the fire to keep it burning, trying to appreciate the view. At least the evergreens and the mountains are a pretty sight, with a dark blue sky as the perfect backdrop. Looks like more snow coming in, and that won’t work well for my fire, but I can’t think about doom right now. I need some beauty.
I smile as I drift in and out of light sleep, the flashbacks of a million memories with Zahn highlighting the back of my eyelids. When we got our pilot’s licenses, we took turns flying a rented plane to a remote mountainside, and we just camped out for a few days to celebrate. But when we started our company, Zahn suggested we go back there to live it up before we had to be responsible business owners. This kind of feels like that. I wish he was here.
My ears catch the sound of propellers, and my eyes squint into the sky, trying to make out the sound. The wind picks up, and then a helicopter is hovering above me. My heart jolts with relief, but my body isn’t responding the way I want it to. I’m trying to stand, to wave my arms, to signal with a burning stick or something, but instead, I stay on my back and watch the helicopter go in and out of sight.
Then a body is coming down to me, and I try to grin at the green eyes and the smirking face. “Zahn,” I say, reaching for him. When his feet touch the ground, I latch onto his gear and start tearing up with so much relief that I’m shaking.
“Hey, Rem,” he says. “It’s Four. Can you see me?”
I blink away the blurriness and look at him. Shit. It really is Four. They look so much alike.
“How you doing, Rem? Any injuries? Hypothermia?” He starts checking me over and my fingers never loosen on his suit. “Hurt? Hungry? Freezing?”
“Zahn?” I say.
“Oh, he’s going out of his fucking mind trying to find you.” He smiles at me. “Come on, man. Tell me what’s hurting. How are you feeling?”
“Piss-ssed off,” I chatter. “Took y-you assholes long enough.”
He laughs, looking at the wreckage. He throws a beacon into the plane to signal the location, snaps a few photos of it once I tell him I’m fine, and then he’s strapping me into something while my mind finally gets permission to shut down and leave survival mode.
“You’re really okay, Rem?” He touches me everywhere, checking for blood again. “Really? Don’t lie to me to act tough.”
I’m dazed and confused, but I’m fine. “Headache. That’s it.” I had food on the plane, so I’m not even that hungry.
“Well, let’s get you the fuck outta here then. Zahn’s seriously losing his shit, but we can make him sweat it out a bit longer,” he jokes. “No, I’m kidding. I’d never do that. We’ll call him as soon as we’re in the air.” He straps me into the basket. “We’ve all been going crazy, Rem. You’re fucking family, and we were so scared.”
Best family I’ve ever had. “How’d you find me?”
He gives the signal and we start our ascent to the helicopter. “Oh, you aren’t going to fucking believe this. That pilot that flew into your flight path? He called it in, but guess who he works for?”
I shake my head.
“Genevieve’s fucking dad.”
No way.
After being hydrated, fed some soup, and checked out by both the field medic and a doctor once we land at the hospital, I’m offered a shower and a toothbrush before my release. Four drives me back to the airfield where air traffic is waiting to take my statement. I’ve got a mild concussion and some dehydration, but that’s the worst of it. Extreme fatigue.
We walk into the small airport, my eyes scanning for Zahn. Four told him we’d be at the airfield instead of the hospital, so I expect him to be here. Then I hear his voice echoing through the building.
“I know you weren’t flying, you fucking prick! But you gave the order to your pilot, and he’s so fucking afraid of you because you’re a tyrannical asshole that he—”
“Settle down,” a cop tells him.
Four grins. “He’s doing my job for me. That’s Genevieve’s dad.” He nods at a middle-aged man in an expensive suit, the pilot looking ashamed and guilty beside him.
“I want you to fucking pay for this! I’m sick of pricks like you getting away with shit. He’s my… you almost fucking killed him!”
“Zahn,” I call, stepping into the room to grab his attention and calm him down. As much as I want to give Gen’s dad a piece of my mind, I want to comfort Zahn even more.
He whips around to face me so fast that his hood falls off his head and his eyes widen and water. Shock. Relief. Confusion. Anger. It all crosses his face, and then he’s heading towards me at a steady clip, uttering nonsense as he does.
“You fuck!” he yells at me. “I was so fucking… I freaked out that you… I’m just fucking… Fuck, Remy!” He wraps his arms around me in the tightest hug I’ve ever been constricted in. And he doesn’t let go.
I hug him back, resting my temple against his, holding on tight because, yeah, I felt all those unfinished sentences, too.
“He’s fine, Zahn,” Four tells him as we keep hugging. “He needs sleep and has a bit of a concussion, but he’s fine.”
Zahn sighs, and I think he’s trying not to cry from relief. He’s too angry to cry. “I’m taking you home,” Zahn says to me. “Air traffic and the police can wait until tomorrow.” He presses his forehead to mine. “You’re okay?”
I nod. “I’m okay.” I smirk, feeling extra special that he worried so much. I never want to make him worry again, but Zahn is my person, and I know the relief he’s feeling right now. I push him away a bit and grab the sides of his neck. “I’m fine. Enough of this mopey bullshit, yeah?” I laugh and he rolls his eyes at me. “Drive me home?”
I end up giving a quick statement on the way out, and then I’m climbing into the passenger seat with Zahn at the wheel, and real exhaustion settles deep within my bones.
But he goes quiet. He doesn’t say another word as we pull out of the parking lot. The atmosphere in the truck turns awkward and tense, and he turns the radio up. Then down, like he’s going to say something. Then back up again. After twenty minutes of this, I lose my patience. Exhaustion turns to unease and comes out as anger.
“What?” I snap at him. “I’m fine. Yeah, that guy’s a shit cunt, but we’ll deal with him later. I’m sorry you were worried!” I don’t know what else could be bothering him, so I leave it at that.
He clenches his jaw and pulls the truck over at a lookout point along the highway. He turns his head to face me, a mix of too many unclear emotions flitting across his features. Anger wins.
“You’re fucking sorry? You?” he scoffs. “Are you fucking kidding me, Remy?”
I throw my hands up, completely baffled. “I don’t know! What’re you pissed about?”
“Pissed?” he repeats, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m scared! I was so fucking worried, Remy. I felt like my life was… Fuck, Rem. My heart was breaking,” he blurts through an emotion he doesn’t know how to feel. “I broke! And now I’m being a selfish dick because I’m making this all about me, but my god, I’ve never… Not even when Kade got stabbed.”
“Yeah, you are being a selfish dick,” I snap back at him. I don’t know why I’m angry, but he’s drawing it out of me in waves. “Is this about the plane? Because we have insurance for that.”
“Holy shit, Remy,” he seethes at me.
“What? I don’t fucking get this! What, Zahn?”
“It’s you!” he screams. “It’s about you! I don’t give a fuck about the plane. I thought I fucking lost you. And the way I…” He pauses again, either too worked up to express himself or too afraid to.
“Fucking say it, Zahn. I’m tired as fuck and don’t have the patience for this. What’s your problem?”
He opens his mouth. Closes it. His nostrils flare and his fingers tighten into fists. He forces them to relax and runs them through his dark hair instead. Then he’s leaving the truck, slamming the door, and walking around the front of it. I’m too worked up to sit here and wait for him to settle down, so I undo my seatbelt and climb out. I close my door and ask him one more time what his damn problem is.
“You!” He pushes my back against the side of the truck. “You’re my fucking problem.”
His body crashes against mine, and then his hands are in my hair and his lips are on mine. He pins me in place, kissing me like he might crumple into a million pieces of nothing if he doesn’t. The chill from the past few days gets chased away by Zahn’s fire, and I don’t know what’s happening right now, but I pull him against me and kiss him back with just as much fervor. My breathing picks up, becoming erratic and wild, making my head pound.
That snaps me out of it. I push him away and glare at him. “You can’t just do that because you’re mad at me! It’s confusing at fuck!”
The air might be brisk, but the tension between us is as hot as the flames of Hell. Confusion swirls within me, making me simmer in a mix of bafflement and worry. Why’d he kiss me? Why is he doing that lately? Why is he so mad? I like it, and it’s confusing to like it. I don’t want him to keep doing it if it means something different from how I’m taking it. I’m weak and tired and hungry, and I can’t cope with it all right now.
“Just take me home, Zahn. Please.” I’m in shock. Overwhelmed. Coming down from three days of being in a constant state of survival, just trying to make it home in one piece. “Please.”
He steps back, sighing. With a nod, we get back in the truck and don’t talk. I don’t give him time to ask questions when he pulls into my driveway. I get out, slam the door, and don’t invite him in. I lean against the back of my door, noticing that my house is warm and my fire is going.
Tears leak down my face, grateful for the Dare family and all they do for me. There’s food in my fridge, casseroles and prepared meals, along with bottles of electrolyte drinks and a bunch of snacks. Zahn hasn’t left. The truck is still parked there, but I don’t have it in me to invite him in tonight.
I cry my way through a snack and a drink, not even sure why I’m so emotional—the comedown, I guess. An hour later, Zahn’s gone.
I crash into bed, realizing my parents didn”t even call.