Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
“That’s a hell of a lot of trust to put in you. You know that, right?”
“Of course.” I nod, locking my eyes with hers. “Belief in your jump partner is absolutely crucial. Now, I believe in you, but do you believe in me?”
She snorts. “Do I have a choice?”
“You always have a choice while you’re still planeside. We can fly right back where we came from if you want to.”
She sighs heavily before shaking her head. “No. That won’t be necessary. I…” Her lip nearly curls. “Trust you.”
I laugh. “Good. I’m looking forward—”
A violent jolt sends the plane plummeting, the sudden drop like an elevator free-falling with no brakes. Avery and I slam into the cabin floor, the impact rattling my bones. Her scream is sharp, panicked, a perfect match for the piercing whine of the wind as the plane tilts sharply downward.
“Shit,” I mutter, trying to make sense of what’s happening. The sound of the wind increases to a loud, high-pitched shriek as the plane takes on an increasingly scary angle, forcing both Avery and me to grab on to any available surface for purchase.
Turning quickly to address the pilot or ask for guidance, I find the reason for the change in altitude and pitch, and a pit of panic takes root in my abdomen, gnawing at the lining of my stomach.
Mario isn’t moving. He’s just slumped over in his seat, and I fight against the g-force to get to my feet.
“Oh my God! What is happening?” Avery screams, scratching the wall behind her as she starts to slide forward. She finally finds the handle above her head at the backside of the jump door, and I scramble to the front to check on Mario, all control of my movement getting harder and harder with every small step.
He’s folded over, and his now-gray face is lifeless. I shake his shoulder brusquely, but he doesn’t stir, and all I can see out the windshield now is the sputter of the propeller and the ocean down below. Fuck.
Rubbing vigorously at his chest with my knuckles, I try to get a response, but he slumps even farther forward and onto the controls, sending the plane careening at an ear-piercing descent.
Avery’s breathing turns to panicked sobs. “Henry—fix it!”
I check for Mario’s pulse—nothing. I rub at his sternum again with vigorous knuckles—nothing.
“I think Mario’s gone,” I say, the words tasting like lead in my mouth.
“What?!” Avery shakes her head frantically, tears streaking down her face. “No, no, no—do something!”
I check Mario’s pulse one last time. Nothing. No second chances. No miracles. Just a dead man at the controls and a plane in free fall.
“Avery, get ready to jump!” I yell harshly, pulling Mario to the side to try to get control of the plane, but the lift is totally gone, and with my very limited—nonexistent—experience operating an aircraft, I’m afraid this fall is unrecoverable.
The world narrows to one brutal, terrifying fact—I have seconds to get us out or we die here too.
I move as quickly and efficiently as possible to get back to Avery. It’s not easy, given the angle of the plane and the smooth surface I have to climb, but somehow, I do it.
Avery is the definition of terrified, her eyes as wide as her face and her chest heaving with each shaky pant of air. She’s in shock, clearly, and when her gaze refuses to meet mine, I grab her face between my hands and force her to look at me.
“Avery,” I bark. “We have to jump. Right now.”
She shakes her head wildly, gripping my wrists like they’re her only lifeline. “I can’t! Henry, I can’t! What if—what if—”
I cut her off, my voice steady and firm. “You can. I’m going to get you out of this, but you have to listen to me. Right now.”
She nods frantically, tears dripping off her chin. “O-okay. Okay.”
I yank us toward the jump door, fighting the sharp incline of the plane. Avery’s body is shaking so hard it’s making it harder, but I don’t let go.
She’s wide-eyed and scared, and I don’t blame her, but with the rate we’re headed for the ocean, I don’t have time to coddle her about it. I’m rough and jerky as I maneuver her body in front of mine and secure us together, and she cries audibly while I’m doing it.
Compartmentalizing, I ignore the fact that we’re very much leaving Mario to a certain death—though I’m pretty sure he’s well and truly gone already—and turn a blind eye to how understandably upset Avery is as she screams and cries into the noise around us.
I wrench the door open with a roar, adrenaline giving me the strength I need. The wind rips through the cabin and makes Avery scream louder.
I pull her flush against me, my arm like iron around her waist. One last squeeze to her thigh, and we’re gone.