Total pages in book: 194
Estimated words: 187754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 939(@200wpm)___ 751(@250wpm)___ 626(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 187754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 939(@200wpm)___ 751(@250wpm)___ 626(@300wpm)
I almost consider it—being buried alive. It’s better than suffering for days. My chances of being rescued in this storm—of surviving it—are too slim for hope. But then I hear it.
A howl.
It’s the wind.
It’s the wind. It’s the wind. It’s the wind.
A terrified squeal escapes me when I hear it again. Another answers the call, and then another. I lose count of the howls after seven.
Wolves.
I try to gulp, but my throat hurts too much from screaming, so I settle for hyperventilating.
I should have stayed in the tree.
A laugh bordering hysteria escapes me, and then I rise with a groan. The wolves sound far away but still too damn close.
Shelter.
Need to find shelter.
At this temperature and in this stupid costume, I’ll be dead before the wolves can say “lunch.”
Hope they like cold cut.
I force myself to focus on the immediate threat and search the debris. When I don’t find anything useful, I debate my next move for far too long. I waste precious minutes silently losing my shit until I hear more howls.
They’re closer now.
My feet start moving in the opposite direction—running, fleeing, carrying me from the tree that saved my life.
Each step through the thick blanket of snow is laborious. I stumble to my knees every other step while my skin stings from the hail.
I feel a stabbing in my ears and fingers that I don’t want to think about.
I’m not wearing a coat, so I have no choice but to keep moving. I have no idea how high up the mountain I am or how close I am to stepping off a cliff.
All I can do is follow the trees.
The destroyed canopy and fallen young Aspens guide me down the steep hill like a blazing arrow. My heart and lungs burn from the exertion, but it also warms my blood and keeps me going until I reach the bottom of the hill where the forest ends.
At first, I think it’s the storm wreaking havoc on my mind when I see it, but no.
It’s really here.
On the edge of the cliff lies the rest of the plane.
Without the engines, it hadn’t made it far.
I call out for Tyler and Cassie, but heart-wrenching silence answers back. I don’t know any of my bodyguards’ names. It never occurred to me to ask, and now they’re probably dead because of me.
My next breath shudders out of me, and I notice it’s shallower than before. I’m too afraid to think about what it means, so I stumble over to the crumpled fuselage. Thick, black, and suffocating smoke billows in the frigid air.
The front of the fuselage, where the cockpit should be, skirts the edge of the cliff, and I know what I’ll find at the bottom.
Too close.
If there are other survivors, it means they’d cheated death a second time. The pilots hadn’t been so lucky. I’m too cold to cry for them—or maybe it’s my heart that’s too frigid.
Rushing for the back of the plane where the empennage tore off, I stop when I see footprints leading out of them—one large set.
“Hello?”
Nothing but sparking wires and wind rattling loose metal answers me. Teeth chattering, I climb inside the fuselage. It’s dark and haunted, but it’s shelter. It’s better than being out there.
I don’t make it more than a few steps inside before I see them—the frozen corpses of my security team.
Clapping a hand over my mouth, I turn away when I realize they’re still strapped into their seats. The neck of the praying bodyguard is twisted at an odd angle, his mouth forever frozen in a soundless scream. I think it was Harold or Harrison, but I can’t be sure. The other two are pinned to their seats by the fragments of the plane that impaled them.
This isn’t a wreck site. It’s a graveyard.
God, they never had a chance.
Are you happy now?
Dropping my hand, I inhale deeply through my nose and let it out slowly. This isn’t my fault. I wasn’t flying the plane. I didn’t cause the storm.
Not this one.
Stop it!
My bodyguards are gone. Cassie and Tyler probably are too. I can only help myself.
Walking deeper inside the plane, my teary eyes reluctantly travel to the seat where Tyler had been sitting, and my knees buckle when I see it’s empty.
Cassie’s, too.
Remembering the footprints I saw outside the fuselage, my heart beats a little faster.
They’re alive.
But it’s not all good because it means they’re out there. In the storm. Probably looking for me.
I turn to rush back out of the plane when the cold hits me like a freight train, and I stop at the edge of the opening. I beg my feet to move, but they won’t.
Because who am I kidding? I won’t survive out there.
Rescue will come soon. I should stay here where it will be easy for them to find me. I’m sure Cassie and Tyler will be back soon. Feeling something suspiciously like guilt, I turn to go back inside and wait for them where it’s safe.