Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Tears blur my vision, and a scream of anguish escapes my lips as I force myself out of the helicopter and onto the ground.
I land on my side with a thud that knocks the air out of me. I suck in a shuddering breath before the pain becomes all-consuming. Slowly, I roll over onto my stomach and press my cheek to the cold ground. The pain slowly recedes but doesn’t disappear fully, and regardless of it still being there, I know I have to keep moving.
I let out another ragged breath, press forward, and start crawling, using my good leg to push off while dragging my bad behind me.
It takes forever to even make it a few feet, and the sweat beading on my brow forces me to stop. I wipe it away with my sleeve so it won’t run into my eyes. The ground is cold, but the heat from the burning helicopter behind me is overwhelming.
It’s a reminder that I must get away from it. There’s a possibility it could blow up. And while that might help a rescue team find the crash site, it doesn’t help me if I’m too close.
The thought of a rescue team makes me wonder if they would even send one. Am I even worth it to someone like Lucas? God, I hope so.
All my worries and fears compile. I’m going to die out here. I’m going to die, and no one is going to know or care. My thoughts warp and twist. Will they even tell my parents? I can’t help but think how right they were. I should’ve stayed at Corium, but how could I have known this accident would happen?
I tremble and have to force myself to calm down so I can keep going. Sucking deep breaths into my lungs, I focus on pushing myself one crawl at a time. My muscles burn with exhaustion, but I continue forward even as the pain in my leg intensifies.
My eyes scan the ground, and when they land on a white box with the word ‘emergency’ on it, I almost scream with joy. I try not to get my hopes up that there might be something in the box I can use, but I can’t help it. This is a beacon of light in my eyes.
The box is about fifteen feet away, with sharp metal pieces from the aircraft surrounding it. I’ll have to drag myself over the metal, but if that box contains anything important that might help get me rescued, I’d be stupid to pass it up.
Before I can think any longer, I’m crawling toward the box, focusing all my attention on it. Pieces of metal slide across my injured leg, and blood smears my hands as metal and glass slide over my palms. I’m not sure how I do it, but I shut down any feelings. The pain is nothing more than a dull ache in the back of my mind.
It takes me a little while to reach the box, but once I do, I sigh with profound relief. A loud pop meets my ears, and then I see flames.
I press my face to the cold ground as something on the side of the helicopter explodes. The burning smell of plastic makes my nose wrinkle, and I move toward a set of trees, my grip on the emergency box tight while I struggle to get away from the fire.
I’m not really sure how much time passes. At this point, it could be minutes or hours, but I finally make it to the tree line, far enough away from the crash site but close enough in case there was anyone who saw us go down. I rest my back against the tree, the bark digging into my back. The tree might be uncomfortable, but nothing hurts more than my leg, which I straighten out slowly, the pain only receding once I stop moving.
Now that I’m somewhat safe, I have a moment to think, to breathe, but how I’m going to get back to Corium consumes my thoughts. Silence surrounds me, minus the crackling fire from the plane. Strange enough, the sound is almost comforting.
It’s a peaceful silence, but also a silence that tells me how alone I really am. Dread festers in my gut, and my thoughts become my own worst enemy.
What if no one comes for me?
What if this was the plan all along?
No! I can’t think that way. There is always hope. My eyes drift to my hands, where I still hold a death grip on the metal emergency box.
The chilly breeze whips through my hair, and I shiver. The night is only going to get worse when the temperature drops further, and the animals come out to play. I shake away the subconscious thoughts and focus my attention back on the box. My fingers tremble as I undo the metal tabs and flip the top of the box open. I stare at the contents for a whole second, wondering if I’m seeing the two flares sitting inside or if I’m imagining them being there.