We drove past the hangar and out onto the airstrip. Rhys’s private jet waited for us in the dark—void of any lights.
Jackal leaned forward in his seat, staring out of the window. “Damn pilot is probably sleeping. Last thing we need is him flying while being half asleep.”
“Well, we are a day or so behind schedule. I’m just glad he’s still here. If he’d taken off, that could’ve screwed us over good.” I honked the horn as we rolled up alongside the aircraft. The interior lights came to life inside the cockpit, then the rest of the plane.
“See. He’s awake.” I placed the SUV in park.
“We’ll see.”
The door cracked open, then lowered to the ground. A large man stood in the cabin with his flashlight trained at the Suburban. His unkempt beard and hair made him look more animal than man.
The beam hit me in the face, causing me to squint. I lifted my hand in the air, blocking the intense gleam of the light.
“That doesn’t look like Tony, the normal pilot,” Jackal said.
I grabbed the rifle from the floorboard next to me and killed the engine. “Mr. Coleman could’ve changed them out. Just be cool.”
Jackal slung his door open, then hopped down to the ground. He slung the rifle over his shoulder and breathed into his hands.
The pilot ducked, stepped out of the cabin onto the top step, then spoke, but I couldn’t make out what all he said.
Jackal slammed the passenger side door shut, nodded, then pointed at the SUV. I left the keys in the ignition and thumbed the headlights off.
The bite of the air dropped what felt like a few more degrees than before. Jackal wasted little time in getting to the plane and climbing inside the cabin past the pilot.
“You’re late,” Grizzly said in a loud, agitated tone.
“Couldn’t be helped. We had some–complications,” I replied. “Where’s Tony?”
“He was unavailable. Mr. Coleman asked me to take his place.” He lowered the flashlight, then stepped back into the cabin. “What sort of complications?”
I climbed the stairs and walked past him. “The earthquake and tsunami kind. Did you not feel the tremors here?”
“Some, but it didn’t seem that bad.” He shined the light at the Suburban again, then asked, “Where’s Lawson?”
“In the wind.” Jackal took a seat in one of the plush chairs.
Grizzly thumbed his light off, then turned back toward us. “What does that mean?”
I took a seat next to Jackal. Grizzly secured the door to the plane, severing the cool, brisk breeze. “It means that he’s on the run, and we’re going to track him down and make good on our arrangement with Mr. Coleman.”
He looked at me, then cut his narrowed eyes over to Jackal. His thick arms flexed as he chewed the side of his lip. “I believe Mr. Coleman was quite specific with the scope of work he hired you two for. He wanted Mr. Lawson brought back to him as soon as possible.”
“And that’s what we’re going to do,” I said, raising my tone. I secured the rifle on the floor between my chair and the wall of the plane, dug my hand into my coat pocket, then fished out the piece of paper. “Listen, I’ve got the last known coordinates of where Lawson was heading. If we leave now, we’ll be able to catch up to him and finish our assignment. You can reassure Mr. Coleman that we will finish this job and deliver the mark as promised. We’ve never failed a job, and I don’t plan on starting now.”
Grizzly took a step forward, then snatched the paper from my hands. He unfolded the crumpled yellow paper and skimmed it over. “I can’t let Mr. Coleman know anything since the radio is down. Has been for some time now. Same thing with my cell.”
“See. There you go.” Jackal added his two cents to the mix. “Get us in the air and to those coordinates and we’ll complete this assignment. At the end of the day, Mr. Coleman wants Lawson by any means necessary. Well, this is by any means. We’re wasting time sitting here when we should be in the air.”
Thunder rolled in the distance, rattling the plane. Lightning crackled, sharp and loud. Grizzly ducked, then looked out of the window to the blackness beyond the plane.
“We shouldn’t be concerned with that, right?” Jackal asked. “I can get a bit queasy during bad turbulence.”
“It’s not anything I can’t handle,” Grizzly answered, puffing out his wide chest.
“Listen,” I said. “Get us to those coordinates so we can finish this. Mr. Coleman wants his son’s killer at all costs. I doubt he would appreciate you taking that away from him.”
An awkward, tense silence draped over the plane like a cloak as we waited for the pilot to make up his mind.
Grizzly skimmed the paper one more time, then said, “All right fine. Make sure you’re strapped in and secured. We’re taking off. You better hope these coordinates are right.”
“Good choice,” I replied.
Grizzly squeezed between us and made for the cockpit. He settled into his seat and prepped the aircraft for takeoff.
Jackal fastened the seat belt across his waist, then folded his arms across his chest. A yawn attacked him–his mouth gaped open as his lids clamped shut.
I leaned forward in the seat and retrieved my travel bag from the floor. I set it in my lap, unzipped the top, and rummaged through the various items stuffed inside.
The plane thrummed to life as more thunder rolled overhead. Another wave of lightning crackled, causing me to flinch.
I pulled the bag open farther and trained the interior toward the lights mounted to the ceiling.
There.
Strawberry bubble gum. The one thing that helped me focus and calm my nerves. It was a subtle reminder of my daughter who used to chew the rich, flavorful gum. That was a memory I cherished.
The roar of the engine grew louder, bolder, as it readied to take off.
I unwrapped the pink paper, pulled a block of gum from the packaging, and plopped it into my mouth.
“Everyone hold on back there. This will probably be a bumpy liftoff and flight,” Grizzly shouted a forewarning.
“Great.” Jackal rolled his head toward the window, staring at the red-flashing light mounted on the edge of the port side wing.
A thin-white bolt of lightning crawled across the black sky, illuminating the dense clouds.
The plane shuddered for a half second, then took off down the runway at full tilt. The less than even surface made my teeth chatter as the engine grew louder.
The fuselage rattled, and the gears whined as the nose lifted off the ground. Turbulence thrashed the plane, shaking every nut and bolt.
I tossed the travel bag to the floor, leaned my head against the headrest of the seat, and waited for the plane to gain altitude before going to the restroom.
“Are you seeing all of that lightning in the distance?” Jackal asked, pointing out the small-oval window. “That’s just crazy. It’s nonstop.”
“Probably just a bad storm rolling through,” I replied while looking out the windows. “Nothing we haven’t been through before. Remember that flight to Dallas and that tornado?”
Jackal shuddered. “Don’t remind me. I nearly crapped myself on that flight. Thanks for bringing that up. Appreciate it.”
“Anytime.”
The plane leveled out, but the turbulence remained. Jackal gulped, then pulled the shade down over the window next to him.
We sat in silence, battling the elements that grumbled in the night sky. Time slipped by as I stared off into space, plotting our next move and trying to figure out where Lawson was heading.
I pulled his black book, that I’d recovered from his hotel, from the interior of my coat pocket and thumbed through the pages.
Come on. Where are you going? There’s got to be something else in here.
I read over the various contacts and locations he had scribbled inside that spanned across the country.
The lights dimmed in the cabin, then flickered as the torrent outside punished the aircraft.
I secured the bl
ack book in the inside pocket of my coat, unlocked the seat belt from my waist, and headed for the cockpit.
Grizzly worked the yoke with one hand while thumbing switches and adjusting dials with the other.
A spectacle of lightning slithered across the sky, followed by the rumble of thunder that wouldn’t stop.
“How much longer do you think we have to go before we get through this mess?” I asked, standing over his shoulder.
“I don’t know, but if it doesn’t let up and clear out some soon, we’ll have to change course and figure something else out,” Grizzly replied, focused on the battery of gauges before him and the looming storm set before them.
“All right. Keep me posted.” I headed toward the rear of the plane to the bathroom, passing Jackal who white knuckled both armrests.
The gash on my scalp stung. My head throbbed from the relentless pounding of thunder and explosions of lightning.
The aircraft swayed from side to side, then lost altitude. I braced my hand against the bathroom door, and glanced back over my shoulder.
Jackal gripped the armrest tighter, closing his eyes for a second, then opening them again. “You jinxed us with that damn tornado comment. You know better than to do that kind of shit, man.”
I shrugged, opened the door, then slipped inside the cramped restroom. The lights flickered some, but stayed on. The door rattled from the turbulence.
I tilted my head, examining the small, narrow gash on the top of my skull as the plane swayed. It didn’t look too deep, but it needed to be cleaned and dressed.
I pulled a paper towel from the holder next to me and got it wet. My hand braced against the wall as I dabbed at the wound.
A clap of thunder hammered the sky.
The plane rattled. The lights crashed hard, sending us into complete darkness.
Jackal yelled from the cabin.
The plane lost altitude, then rolled to the starboard side.
I fell into the door, hitting it with my shoulder. The weightlessness of free falling tickled my stomach. I pushed away, then opened the door.
Sirens blared throughout the dark cabin. I struggled to gain my footing. I braced my hand against the wall, using it to keep me upright.
The tempest raged outside. Heavy winds hammered the aircraft, keeping us from being able to correct our course.
The interior lights running along the ceiling and floor blinked back into existence. Power surged throughout the aircraft, but the engines remained offline.
A snaking line of white lightning crackled next to the aircraft. Jackal gasped, then looked to the window.
“What the hell happened?” I yelled at Jackal as I crawled to my seat.
“Lightning struck the starboard wing. Knocked out the power for a moment,” Jackal replied. “Doesn’t sound like the engines are coming back on, though. I think they’ve stalled. Plus, it looks like it’s snowing outside.”
Grizzly worked the yoke and switches before him, trying to regain control and slow the plane’s rapid descent. “Are you strapped in and secured back there?”
I climbed in my seat, fighting gravity as it sought to rip me away. I turned, sat down, then buckled myself in. “Yeah. We’re good to go back here.”
Grizzly turned his head to the side. “Hold on. We’re going down.”
CHAPTER FIVE
CORY
Smoke tainted the air, mixing with the pungent scent of sulfur that refused to leave. It choked my lungs, making it hard to breathe. I coughed, then hacked.
My lids cracked open. A haze coated each eye, distorting my vision. A stinging bite nipped at both, causing them to water and my lids to close once more.
“Anna,” I said in a raspy cough. “Are you–all right?”
She didn’t answer.
I pushed my fingers into each socket and rubbed, trying to relieve the discomfort of the smoke. My equilibrium felt off—askew even. Almost as if I had been dumped onto my side. Gravity pulled me down toward the side of the fuselage.
The sheen coating my eyes waned, offering me a glimpse at the interior of the crashed aircraft. I turned my head and scanned the plane.
Anna’s seat sat bare.
Exposed wires dangled from the ceiling like colorful snakes. White and yellow sparks flickered and flashed bright before me from the frayed ends. I blinked against the brilliance.
A brisk breeze rushed the busted split windshield of the cockpit, sending a shiver down my spine and goosebumps forming along my arms. The outer rim of the window was lined with sharp fragments of glass.
My fingers fiddled with the seat belt, struggling to undo the latch. It clicked, then gave, releasing me from the seat.
I braced my hand against the small window next to me and pushed against it. The seat creaked and fell back into place. The bolts keeping it secured to the floor had been ripped out. I felt fortunate that the others remained intact.
The pilot slumped over the armrest, his knuckles resting against the top of my bag that stored his payment for flying us out of California. He offered no signs of life.
I grabbed the top of his seat and sat up. The world spun. I paused, closed my eyes, and took a moment to gather my bearings.
The tips of the wires brushed against my scalp. I flinched, then ducked, afraid of being zapped. The pilot’s face was turned away from me. I leaned over the seat to get a better look.
The side of his head had a deep gash running from his temple down past his earlobe. I checked for a pulse, but found none.
“Anna,” I said again. She didn’t appear to be inside the aircraft–making me worried that she had been thrown from the plane, or left me behind.
I grabbed my bag out from underneath the pilot’s limp arm, turned in place, then faced the back of the plane. The world spun some more. Both hands grabbed the seats close by, keeping me upright.
The whistling of the wind played in the dull silence. Wires and insulation whipped about, brushing against my face. I shuddered, then pushed them out of my way.
Gray snow fell into the back half of the plane from the fissures that lined the tail. It gathered on the floor, and the jumbled mess of boxes that had broken free from the cargo net keeping them in place.
The side entrance to the aircraft was open. I craned my neck and peered outside in search of Anna.
I slung the rucksack over my shoulder and took a step forward. The tip of my shoe nudged the corner of a tool box that sat in the middle of the floor. The tools inside clattered against the walls of the enclosure. I stumbled forward, hitting the far side of the opened door. My shoulder rammed the dense steel. The side of my head smacked the fuselage.
“Cory,” Anna called out in worry. “You’re awake. Are you all right?”
My hand palmed the side of my head. I cussed under my breath, then turned toward the door. “I’m about as all right as one can be after surviving a plane crash.”
She grabbed my arm and helped me out of the destroyed aircraft. “Thank God. I didn’t know what sort of injuries you’d sustained. I was afraid of moving you too much. You didn’t respond any when I spoke to you.”
I draped my legs over the edge of the opening, then scooted out to the ground. Anna held fast, keeping a tight hold on my forearm as I steadied my balance.
I blinked, then looked at her dingy face. She had a gash over her left brow. A trail of dried blood ran from the open wound and smeared across her cheek. It mixed with the ash gathering on her skin. She favored her right arm, keeping it close to her body.
“Your head’s bleeding,” I said, pulling away from her and standing on my own accord. “Is your arm okay? It isn’t broken, is it?”
“It’s fine, all things considered.” She dipped her chin, then looked at her arm. She moved it around. Her face scrunched in distress from the action. “It’s not broken. I can move it. I just get a twinge of pain is all. Might have tweaked it or something when we crashed.”
I nodded, then pointed back toward the plane. “The pilot is dead.”
Anna ran her fingers through the matted strands of her hair, then wiped the red-tinted gray snowfall from her face. It streaked across her flesh. “Yeah. I woke up not too long ago. I checked on him after you.”
My eyes still burned some. I rubbed them again and shook my head in frustration. “Do you know where we are?”
Anna shrugged. “I think we crashed in a valley or something. There are mountain ranges all around us.” She pointed to the ominous black swollen clouds overhead. “Those clouds are pretty dense and haven’t moved out yet. I think it’s early morning, though, seeing as there is some light out.”
I flitted my gaze to the sky, then shielded my face from the gray snowfall. “What the hell is that? What’s going on?”
“No clue on both fronts, but it looks like ash falling from the sky.” Anna held her hand out, allowing the gray flakes to gather in her palm.
“Why would ash be falling?” I wiped my fingers across my cheek, then rubbed the tips together. “That would have to be one big ass fire, explosion, or whatever to create this much. I wonder if Yellowstone erupted or something.”
Anna wiped her hands off onto her pants. “That’s the only thing I can think that would cause this sort of event.”
The brisk wind searched for a way through my clothing, exploiting any tears or openings within the tattered fabric. I wrapped my arms across my chest and shivered. “Does that explain why the temperature feels like it’s getting colder?”
“I’m no scientist. Just me throwing out ideas.” Anna shivered, then glanced over the open valley we stood in. “We need to find some shelter until we can figure out things. Are you good to travel?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I think my knees slammed into something when we crashed. They hurt, but I’ll live.”
Anna pointed at the open door of the plane with her good arm. “Is there anything inside we need or could use?”
“Not that I’m aware of. I just had my phone and grabbed the pack we gave the pilot,” I answered through quivering lips. “I tripped over a tool box, but didn’t see anything that would be useful. A screwdriver or wrench isn’t going to do us much good right now.”
Brink of Extinction | Book 2 | Stay Alive Page 3