Chapter 17
ALEX
Alex’s heart dropped as he watched the feed from Ava’s pearl cam continue to jitter wildly. The pilots had warned them to put their seat belts on and brace for impact.
His heart rose into his throat as the lights on the plane flickered before returning to life.
“Ava,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.
The camera turned dark as she leaned forward, placing her head in her lap as they prepared.
“Don’t panic,” Sebastian said. “These pilots are highly trained. They can–”
A sob escaped from Ava, stopping Sebastian’s voice.
The next words that came from Alex’s laptop speakers send this heart and his heart monitor into overdrive.
“Impact in three, two—” The pilot’s voice cut off abruptly, leaving only a deafening silence before the speakers filled with a horrible, metallic screech.
The camera blurred, shaking violently as the plane plummeted, the world spinning out of control. Alex’s heart hammered against his ribs, each second stretching painfully as he waited for something—anything.
And then, a sudden, gut-wrenching crash. The sound of metal tearing and glass shattering filled the air, followed by the hollow thud of impact.
“Ava,” he whispered, his throat tight. But the camera remained dark.
Alex’s heart raced as he stared at the frozen image on the screen, his lower lip trembling. His mind screamed at him to do something, anything, but there was nothing. No sound, no movement—just the faint pink of her pants where the camera had landed. He clenched his fists, helpless.
"Move, Ava," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Please, just move."
The seconds stretched into an eternity. His breaths came faster, shallower, his pulse pounding in his ears as he imagined the worst. What if she was already gone? What if this was the last image he’d ever have of her?
His hands trembled as he typed, trying to reboot the camera, but the screen remained blank. His world was collapsing, and all he could do was watch.
Instead, the camera froze, detecting nothing but a slight pink hue from her pants.
“No, no, no,” he said, his voice panicked as he pounded on his laptop keys.
“What happened?” Sebastian asked.
Alex hammered against his keys, desperate to reboot the connection between them. “The camera’s frozen. I’ve lost the signal.”
“Can you get it back?”
“I’m trying,” he retorted, his voice filled with annoyance.
His head pounded, and his mind felt fuzzy from the fever that still ravaged him. “Ugh, I can’t…”
“Hey, easy,” Sebastian said, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “Take a deep breath and think. Now isn’t the time to panic.”
“Gee, thanks, I hadn’t thought of that.” Alex huffed out a breath. “I’m just…my mind isn’t firing on all cylinders.”
Sebastian thrust a blue cup of jello toward him. “Here, eat this.”
Alex frowned at the jello cup. “Seriously? Now’s not the time for snacks.”
“You need a boost. Sugar will help you think. Just eat it and get back to work.”
Alex snatched the cup, shoveling the jello into his mouth with shaking hands. It stuck in his throat, but he forced it down. He didn’t have time for this.
Could Ava have survived the crash? Was there any hope? Or would he reboot the camera only to find that it provided no new information because Ava had perished.
His mind recreated the horrific scene over and over, imagining the plane exploding on impact. He envisioned a call from the authorities telling him there had been survivors.
Tears stung his eyes, and he set the half-eaten jello toward the side, returning his fingers to the keyboard. He needed answers, and he needed them now.
“Any better?”
“I won’t be better until I know if Ava made it through that.”
Until he knew otherwise, he imagined her still alive. She’d somehow survived the crash, and she was out there somewhere. He needed to alert someone to help her, to find her.
He tried to re-access the camera’s feed, hoping to learn something from it, but the signal wouldn’t pick up. With a growl, he brought up another window before he swiped at his sweaty forehead.
“It won’t load?”
“I got nothing,” Alex said with a sniffle as he pounded furiously at the keyboard.
“What are you doing now?”
“I’m commandeering a satellite to see if I can boost the signal from that camera or take some pictures. Anything.”
“A satellite,” Sebastian repeated, crossing his arms.
“Yes, Shadow, a satellite. I have skills, you know. Also, a fleet of satellites that I launched myself. I don’t mind using them at this exact moment.”
He accessed the closest satellite and repositioned it to the last-known location of the pearl cam.
His fingers tapped a frantic rhythm on the laptop as he stared at the screen, waiting for the satellite to reposition itself. The seconds dragged on, each one a punch to his chest as he imagined the worst.
Finally, the screen flickered to life, revealing a broken stretch of jungle, trees flattened, the earth scarred. His heart stuttered. Where was the plane? He zoomed in, scanning the destruction, until—there.
His breath caught. The plane was crumpled, its nose smashed into the ground, fires licking at its sides. His vision blurred, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe.
“No,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “No, Ava…”
“Where are they?” he murmured as he searched for the plane while simultaneously trying to reboot the camera.
He finally managed to move the satellite far enough to find the downed craft. His heart skipped a beat as he stared at it, shrouded by trees with a few fires burning nearby.
“Oh no,” he murmured.
The plane was smashed in the front and damaged elsewhere from what he could see. He wasn’t certain anyone could have survived that.
He tried the camera again, desperate to get a glimpse of what was going on, but he couldn’t access it. “Damn it!”
He slammed his hands against the hospital table, sending it rolling a few inches away.
Sebastian swallowed hard, biting his lower lip before he dug his phone from his pocket. “I’m going to call and see if I can get anyone out to that site.”
“That could take hours. They’re in the jungle,” Alex said. “There’s not much around them.”
He let his head fall back against the pillow behind him, his body weak from the illness. His mind struggled to process anything outside of the grief of what he assumed to be Ava’s loss.
He arched an eyebrow as he sat up, reaching for the table. “Wait, wait, with the satellite that close, she may have cell reception. We can call her or—"
“I’m on it,” Sebastian said, already dialing her number and placing it on speakerphone.
It rang a few times before her voicemail picked up. “Hi, you’ve reached Ava. I can’t take your call right now—"
Sebastian poked at the end call button.
“Okay, it’s good that it rang. It’s not off or anything,” Alex said. “Try again.”
“Alex—” Sebastian began, but Alex cut him off.
“Just try it! I’m going to try to access the camera and see if I can get a glimpse of anything.”
“Okay, okay,” he said as he dialed her again. He received the voicemail message twice more before he flicked a consoling glance at Alex. “She’s not answering. Any luck with the camera?”
“I’m almost in,” Alex said. “I just need–”
His words cut off as the satellite feed skittered for a second before it became clear again. A shiver snaked down Alex’s spine as he stared at the image on the screen.
A massive fireball plumed from the downed plane. He stared at it, unable to move or think.
His breaths came in ragged gasps. “No,” he said with a shake of his head. “No!”
Sebastian lowered his head from the screen, pressing his lips into a thin line as he slid his eyes closed. “Alex…”
“No!” Alex screamed. “No, no, no. No, she can’t be gone. She can’t be…try her phone again.”
He pulled his laptop closer, trying to ignore the image from the scene as he desperately attempted to access the camera on her phone.
The screen blurred, his eyes welling with tears that cascaded on to his cheeks. With a sniffle, he wiped them away hastily before he returned to typing. “Come on, Ava. Come on…”
“Alex, I think we need to–”
“No!” Alex said with a shake of his head. “Not until I see that she’s…”
His voice broke as he failed to get out the word “gone.”
“Until we have something definitive, I’m not going to give up,” Alex answered as he returned his hands to his keyboard.
“I just think maybe you need to prepare.”
“I’m not preparing. I’m not going to accept that she’s–”
Sebastian’s jangling phone interrupted his words. He stared down at it, the name on the display sending his heart monitor’s beeping higher.
With trembling hands, Sebastian swiped to accept the call, toggling it onto speakerphone. “Ava?”
Time seemed to stand still as Alex waited to hear her voice.
“Yeah, and Doc,” she answered. “I assume you caught some of what happened on the pearl cam.”
“We saw most of what happened, then nothing. And then the plane exploded.”
“Avs?” Alex called, his voice hoarse.
“Alex,” she answered, the relief in her voice clear. “Babe, how are you feeling?”
“Uh, fine, yeah, my flu is really nothing compared to your plane crash, so…how are you feeling?”
“A little banged up,” she answered. “But both of us are okay. The pilot, copilot and flight attendant weren’t so lucky.”
“Ava,” Sebastian answered, “stay near that plane. I’m going to send someone to get you.”
“No,” she answered. “We need to get to that facility and find the cure.”
“Ava, you were just in a plane crash,” Alex said, shaking his head. “Stay where you are.”
“Alex, you have a deadly flu. I am not going to sit by an inferno in the middle of the jungle and do nothing while all of those people’s lives are on the line, including yours.”
“Babe, I can beat this. Some of the others may not be so lucky, but I can survive. I know I can, okay? I feel okay right now.”
“Not to be a pain,” Kyle interjected, “but the adrenaline likely coursing through your system is probably masking how bad you really feel.”
“Thank you, Doc, for that assessment. I don’t care. I can survive. I need Ava back home,” he said, his heart still beating far too fast for his taste.
“Alex is right,” Sebastian said.
“Too bad. We’re going to the facility. We don’t have the passes anymore, but we’re going to do our best to get in. Alex, can you send coordinates to my phone so I can follow the GPS?”
He sat stunned for a moment, uncertain of what to do. If he sent them, she’d definitely go to the pharmaceutical lab, but if he didn’t…well, she’d still go. With his help, she’d just get there faster. Plus, they’d have an easier time to evacuate them there.
“Yes. I can do that. And I can still provide tech support for you to gain entry to both the facility and any labs you need.”
“Awesome, babe, thanks.”
Sebastian shook his head. “No, he can’t. Ava, this is stupid. Do you even have the badges?”
“Negative,” she answered. “We didn’t have time to get those before we left the plane. You’re lucky I have my phone.”
“Then you can’t get inside–”
“Look, Shadow, the way we look, we couldn’t waltz through the front door even with the badge, okay? We’ll have to improvise. We are so close to getting this. Just make sure we can get out, okay? We’re going to need an evac.”
“Ava, you’re not hurt at all, right?” Alex asked, holding his breath as he waited for an answer. He’d assumed given her call that both her and Doc were well enough to continue to the facility, but maybe that wasn’t the case. What if she was hurt and trying to complete this as her last act.
She didn’t answer for far too long of a time. “Ava?” he prodded.
“I’m here, ummm, no, neither of us have any physical injuries.”
Something about the way she’d said it made him nervous. “Is there something else? Something you’re not telling me?”
The pause that followed made his stomach twist into a tight knot.
“The thing is…” Her voice trailed off for a moment before she spoke again.
"Alex, there’s something else," Ava’s voice wavered, and Alex’s stomach dropped.
"What is it?"
The silence stretched for an agonizing beat.
"I have the flu too."
His heart stopped. For a moment, the world seemed to blur around him.
"No," he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. "No, Ava. You can’t. You can’t have it."
"I’m sorry, babe." Her voice broke. "But we don’t have time. We have to get the cure now—before it’s too late for both of us."
The weight of her words crushed him. His mind spiraled through every bad thing that could happen. She couldn’t die. Not her. Not like this. He wouldn't let it happen.