Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 119597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Every revved hum, subtle vibration, and wobbly tilt drives my pulse into the danger zone. What if the engine fails or a piece of the wing falls off or we run out of fuel?
And the landing…
Will we find an airstrip? Or will Leo have to land in a field, on a highway, or in a valley of mountains?
I can’t shake the bundle of nerves tightly wound inside me.
From my seat, I steal glances at Leo’s profile, finding comfort in his indomitable focus, the deliberate movements of his hands, and the confidence in his posture. Even as my fears try to shove me into hysterics, he inhabits the role of pilot as if he were born into it.
He and Kody are in constant communication through their headsets, sharing information and strategies that I’m painfully excluded from. I try to read their lips, to glean some hint of what’s being said, but the task is impossible.
Frustrated, I turn my gaze to the window, to the vast emptiness below us.
After thirty minutes of steady flying, the landscape hasn’t changed, underscoring how remote Hoss truly is, how far removed from the world we’ve been, and the incredible distance we’re attempting to cover.
Even so, a part of me dares to hope that the worst of our struggles are behind us.
An hour into our flight, high in the sky with the world stretching infinitely below, the terrain begins a slow transformation. The stark, white hills gradually give way to patches of thawing ground.
Beyond my window, hints of green start to puncture the monotonous white, a tentative resurgence of vegetation. Birds dot the skies. Sparse at first. Then they grow denser. Indications that we’re leaving the barrenness of the Arctic Circle behind.
As the plane flies southward, dipping lower, the view sharpens into a breathtaking mosaic of green.
Kody and Leo go still, their heads turning in every direction.
Trees. Thousands of them, rippling in an endless sea of emerald waves, their tips dusted with the golden light of the morning sun.
The alpine forest, punctuated by the occasional clearing and winding rivers that gleam like veins of liquid silver, is a stark contrast to the ice and snow Leo and Kody have known their entire lives.
They’ve never seen a tree outside of a movie screen and the glossy pages of their books.
Kody shifts toward the side window, his nose practically pressed against it, his breath fogging the glass as he absorbs the view. His eyes, wide with wonder, dart from point to point, trying to soak in every detail.
Leo doesn’t let the sights steal his concentration. But there’s a softness in his gaze, a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.
Kody leans toward Leo, pointing and talking, and Leo nods, his smile growing brighter.
A vicarious thrill flutters through me, chasing away some of the nerves. I can’t wait to experience more with them, to show them everything they’ve missed.
Just watching them, seeing the world through their eyes, fills me with an emotion I can’t quite name.
Turning toward me, Kody makes his eyes go wide and drops his jaw, wordlessly communicating his reaction to the views.
I bite my lip, laughing at his playfulness. Then I blow him a kiss, which he catches before shifting back to the front.
Time, from my seat by the window, becomes a fluid thing, stretching and unfolding like the expanse of uninterrupted splendor below us.
Vibrant canopies of trees ripple in the unseen breeze, uninterrupted by roads, buildings, or any marks of human existence. There are no other planes in sight, no trails of civilization. The world here is raw and unspoiled, a secret kept in isolation.
Kody and Leo, now quiet, share my rapt attention as the shadow of our small plane skims across the wild, untamed beauty of Interior Alaska.
Miles and miles of unpopulated land float by, lulling me into a state of contemplation. The sheer scale and serenity of it all solidifies my belief that Hoss is in the Brooks Range.
If that’s true, we should be approaching Fairbanks soon.
Leo doesn’t have a manual for the radio equipment. He thinks it has a line-of-sight range. Depending on the antenna and atmospheric conditions, he’ll probably see signs of human life on the horizon before he can communicate with anyone. But I notice him constantly checking the frequency bands.
Reaching forward, I tap Kody on the shoulder. When he twists toward me, I point at my wrist.
His brow wrinkles, and he removes his headset, shouting, “What?”
I could totally kick his ass in a game of charades. I mean, of course, he doesn’t understand my gesture. He’s never worn a watch.
“Time?” I yell, motioning at the cockpit. “How long?”
He checks the clock on the instrument panel and holds up two fingers, shouting.
The roar of the engine snatches his voice away, but I got my answer and give him a thumbs up.