Chapter 144


    A+  A++


    “Hey. Hey. Hush. We’re down. We’re safe. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I hold her for a moment to calm her down.


    “You did it,” she chokes out. “You did it. Fuck. Christian. You got us down.”


    “I know.” And I can’t quite believe we’re both in one piece. I step away from her and hand her a handkerchief from


    my pocket.


    “What the hell happened?” she says as she wipes away her tears.


    “I don’t know.” I’m stumped. What the fuck happened? Both engines? But I’ve no time for this now. She could


    blow. “Let’s move away. I’ve done an emergency shutdown on all the systems, but there’s enough fuel on board to


    give Mount St. Helens a run for her money should it go up.”


    “But my stuff—”


    “Leave it.”


    We’re in a small clearing, the tops of some of the fir trees now missing. The smell of fresh pine, jet fuel, and acrid


    smoke is in the air. We shelter under the trees at what I assume is a safe distance from Charlie Tango, and I


    scratch my head.


    Both engines?


    It’s rare for both to go. Bringing Charlie Tango down intact and using the fire extinguisher means her engines are


    preserved and we can find out what went wrong.


    But a postmortem and crash analysis is for another time, and for the FAA. Right now, Ros and I have to decide


    what to do.


    I wipe my forehead with my jacket sleeve, and I realize I’m sweating like a fucking pig.


    “At least I have my purse and my phone,” Ros mutters. “Shit. I don’t have a signal.” She holds her phone skyward,


    searching for service. “Do you? Will someonee and rescue us?”


    “I didn’t have time for a distress call.”


    “That’s a no, then.” Her face falls.


    I grab my phone from my inside pocket, and I’m cheered when I hear the rattle of Ana’s gift, but I don’t have time


    to think about that, now. I just know I have to get back to her.


    “When I don’t report in, they’ll know we’re missing. The FAA has our flight n.” My phone has no signal either but


    I check the GPS on the off chance that it’s working and set to our current position.


    “Do you want to stay or go?”


    Ros looks nervously around at our rugged surroundings. “I’m a city girl, Christian. There are all kinds of wild


    animals out here. Let’s go.”


    “We’re on the south side of theke. We’re a couple of hours from the road. Maybe we can get help there.”


    Ros starts in heels but is barefoot by the time we hit the road and it makes our progress slow. Fortunately, the


    ground is soft, but not so the road.


    Material ? of N?velDrama.Org.


    “There’s a visitors’ center along here.” I inform her. “We could get help there.”


    “They’re probably closed. It’s after five,” Ros says, her voice wavering. We’re both sweating and in need of water.


    She’s had enough, and I’m beginning to wish we’d stayed near Charlie Tango. But who knows how long it would


    have taken for the authorities to find us?


    My watch says 5:25 p.m.


    “Do you want to stay here and wait?” I ask Ros.


    “No way.” She hands me her shoes. “Can you?” She makes a snapping-twig motion with her fists.


    “You want me to break the heels off? They’re Manolos.”


    “Please, just do it.”


    “Okay.” Feeling that my manhood is on trial, I use all my strength to snap off the first heel. It gives after a moment


    or two, as does the second. “Here. I’ll get you a new pair when we’re home.”


    “I’ll hold you to that.”


    She puts on her shoes once more and we set off down the road.


    “How much money do you have?” I ask.


    “On me? About two hundred dors.”


    “I have about four hundred. Let’s see if we can hitch a ride.”


    WE MAKE FREQUENT STOPS to rest Ros’s feet. I offer to carry her at one point, but she refuses. She’s quiet but


    resilient. I’m grateful that she’s held it together and not sumbed to panic, but I don’t know how long that will


    We’re taking a rest break when we hear the thumping rumble of a semi. I stick my thumb out in the hopes that the


    vehicle will stop. Sure enough, we hear a grinding of gears and the gleaming riges to a standstill a few feet


    away, the engine rumbling on, growling, waiting for us.


    “Looks like we got a ride.” I sh a grin at Ros, trying to keep her buoyant. Her smile is thin, but it’s a smile. I help


    her to her feet and almost carry her to the passenger door. A bearded young guy in a Seahawks cap opens the


    passenger door from the inside. “You folks okay?” he asks.


    “We’ve had better days. Where you heading?”


    “I’m taking this empty box back to Seattle.”


    “That’s where we’re going. Will you give us a ride?”


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