Chapter 47
FORTY-SEVEN
B laine couldn’t believe they were still breathing, that they’d survived. The crash. The water. The cold. Fighting the current to get to shore.
He wiped the blood from his face with the back of his forearm and knelt beside Charlie. Put two fingers at his carotid pulse while Xanthe unzipped the first aid kit.
Her fingers shook, her breath coming in little hitches. They and everything else were soaked through with seawater.
He unzipped Charlie’s coat with unsteady hands. The outside of it was made of a waterproof layer. They had to get his wet clothes off and warm him up before his core temp dropped too low.
If it wasn’t already too late.
“Help me g-get his sweater and sh-shirt off,” he said.
They did it as quickly as possible with their clumsy fingers. Blaine shook the jacket, turned it inside out and put it back on Charlie. Then turned him onto his left side in the recovery position. It wasn’t great, but hopefully the jacket would trap the minimal warmth left in his core.
“H-Have to g-get him w-warm.” And them too, if possible. They were all at risk of hypothermia.
Xanthe produced a lighter stick from the kit. “Here.”
Good. “N-need b-branches.”
They gathered a mound of branches that were dry enough to snap cleanly rather than bend. He broke them down into smaller pieces and built a fire in a spot he’d cleared off, piling up dry cedar and fir needles at the base to act as kindling. With three clicks the lighter came to life.
Thank you, God.
He lit the kindling in several spots, bent to blow gently on the smoldering areas, his muscles shaking. The flames were slow to catch at first, flaring suddenly and then extinguishing almost as fast. He kept going, lighting the ends of some of the branches to act as wicks.
Xanthe kept gathering branches, keeping a stockpile nearby. It was good that she kept moving, kept her blood circulating.
“C’mere.” He drew her over and helped her peel the soaked clothing off her torso. They both had jeans on, completely saturated by icy seawater, but they had nothing else to wear.
He did the same with Xanthe’s jacket as he had Charlie’s, trapping at least some level of warmth against her skin, aided by the small fire.
Blaine moved Charlie closer to the heat source and stripped to the waist. After wringing out their wet clothes, they held them over the fire to dry them. Tendrils of steam rose into the air along with the smoke, curling up toward the treetops and scattered by the gusting wind.
“Lemme s-see your head,” Xanthe said, bringing the first aid kit with her.
Blaine bent his head and clamped his jaw tight when she probed at the cut above his forehead. It was deep. Probably needed stitches, but they only had basic supplies.
“S-sorry,” she murmured, pressing a gauze bandage to the throbbing wound. It must have been wrapped in plastic because it appeared still to be dry.
She did what she could to bandage him up, then used an alcohol wipe to clean the blood off his face.
He caught her frozen hands and trapped them against his cheeks, stared into her eyes. She was incredible. Fierce and resilient, even in the face of everything that had just happened.
He was warming up enough that his teeth and jaw weren’t chattering much now. “We’re gonna be okay,” he said, needing her to believe him. Needing to believe it himself.
She nodded. He couldn’t tell whether she believed him or not.
“You don’t know how much you mean to me, bright eyes.”
Xanthe inhaled. “You’re telling me this now?”
“Almost didn’t get the chance to say it at all, so I’m not waiting.”
Warmth and a trace of humor lit her eyes. “You mean a lot to me too,” she whispered back.
He groaned and planted a swift kiss on her lips before tugging her to his chest. She was shivering more than he was.
“We’ve got each other,” he told her, rubbing his hands up and down her arms and back to help warm her. “We stay as dry as we can, keep each other warm until rescue gets here. Someone will notice we’re missing soon and start a search. Hopefully they’ll see the smoke.”
She nodded against his chest. “Both Allistair and Lachlan had our approximate flight plan data. If we’re not back by dark, they’ll contact the Coast Guard and launch a search.”
Charlie stirred slightly. They hurried over to crouch next to him. Xanthe gripped one of his hands as she knelt there. “Charlie, it’s Xanthe.”
His eyelids fluttered. He opened his eyes, focused on her slowly.
“The plane went down in the water. Blaine brought you to shore. We’re in the woods on a small island right now, but rescue is coming. Are you in pain anywhere?”
He didn’t respond, his gaze blurring. Eyelids sagging.
“Charlie, stay with me,” she urged.
He gave a slow nod, then closed his eyes as if too exhausted to keep them open.
She felt around his head. “He’s got a lump here on the side of his head. I don’t see any blood, but the way he hit the yoke…”
“I know.” He likely had extensive internal trauma and bleeding. “His pulse is weak.”
Xanthe stroked a hand over Charlie’s wet hair. “We need to warm him up more.”
She started rubbing her hands briskly over the back of his jacket, being careful not to jostle him and avoiding his chest and belly where he might have internal trauma.
When she got to his feet she took off his shoes and socks, rubbed his bare feet between her hands and held them closer to the fire.
There wasn’t anything more they could do for him, except stay with him and wait.
Blaine kept feeding the fire as the sky overhead grew darker. Eventually he got it big enough that it threw off a decent amount of heat. Too small to attract anyone’s attention from the air or shore, but still a sweet relief.
He dried his sweater for a few more minutes, then put it back on while it was still damp. He and Xanthe took off their own shoes and socks, squeezed out the water and dried them as best they could.
The wind picked up, gusting between the trees at first. Within an hour a full gale was howling through the woods, rain falling between the overhanging gaps in the branches. The storm had arrived, threatening to snuff out their meager source of warmth.
“I’ll start making us a shelter.” If they were going to be trapped here overnight in this storm, they were going to need more than this little campfire to keep them dry and warm.