Chilled (Bone Secrets, #2)(69)

Last night had been the worst night of his life. Tyrone had faded in and out of consciousness, sometimes talking to Liam like he was their dad. Other times mistaking Liam for an old army buddy. At least this morning Tyrone knew who Liam was. And he knew how dire their situation was.

They hadn’t packed any food. The little chopper had held no basic supplies other than a flashlight, tarp, and lousy first aid kit.

A flare gun was stashed under one of the seats but was useless in this weather. Who’d see a flare?

Who’d be stupid enough to fly in this weather?

He’d be repeating that question the rest of his life. And there was a good chance the rest of his life wouldn’t be that long.

He’d survived a helicopter crash. The first one of his career. And he didn’t plan to ever be in another one. He hadn’t been scared when the copter went down; he’d been angry. Angry at Brynn, himself, and his brother. None of them had exercised the brains God gave them to stay home out of this shitty weather. And now they all were paying for it.

If he ever got out of here…

He was saying “if” a lot.

If he saw Brynn again. If his brother didn’t die on him. If he didn’t die.

Too many ifs.

He moved closer to his brother. Tyrone’s head injury was serious. The broken ribs didn’t bother him if he didn’t move too much, but Liam worried Tyrone would accidentally puncture a lung.

How Liam had managed to escape the wreck with only a sprained wrist was a miracle. Both brothers should be dead. Only the cushion from the tree branches and then the fall into a deep snowdrift saved their asses.

To die alone.

How many times overnight had he wished they’d both simply died in the wreck? So much faster. Instead of this long, drawn-out, slow death. No one was going to find them. They were working off the clock and had probably been off the radar when they went down. The tower at Springton was probably wondering why they hadn’t returned, but whom would they contact? Even when someone did realize they were missing, they wouldn’t know where to look.

He didn’t have any more tears. He’d silently cried them dry in the night as he’d worried his brother would never wake up. If he ever got out of this mess he was going to stick a ring on Brynn’s finger. He’d waited too long. He knew she had doubts about marriage, but after this experience she had to listen to him. She had to let him move back in. He knew she was what he wanted from life. And their kids. He wanted children with that woman, but now it might never happen.

He turned his head so his nose was buried in Tyrone’s hair. His brother’s breathing was rough, like a virus had been planted in his lungs and was starting to expand.

Aw, shit.

A pounding on the glass made Liam jolt, and Tyrone cried out at the movement against his ribs.

A single big silhouette was visible through the steamed glass, and Liam happily discovered he did have more tears to shed.

Help had arrived.

Brynn sympathized with her dog. Kiana lay in front of the door with her head on her paws, watching the three remaining humans closely. She’d whined as Jim and Thomas left to hike out, even following for a few feet before turning around to wait for her master to follow. Somehow the dog had known Jim was leaving for good. And she’d wanted to go with him, but she wouldn’t leave Brynn.

Brynn felt the same way about Ryan.

More than anything she wanted to be hiking out of this hell with Jim and Thomas, but she couldn’t leave Ryan. Was it a woman thing? Always left to wait for the man to return? Always the one volunteering to stay with the sick? Was it a gene?

She looked around the cramped plane. No one could stand up straight, and no one could have any privacy. Alex had laid down the law about any outside excursions. She wasn’t even allowed to pee alone. A twinge of claustrophobia pricked at her neck. If they were lucky there would be two, maybe three more nights spent in this plane.

They’d buried the pilots and marshal before Jim and Thomas left.

She’d watched Alex’s face as they lay the dead marshal in the hole. It had been carefully blank. She’d tried to get him to talk about the agent, but he’d shaken his head.

“Not now.”

But would he talk later?

A strange stiffness had settled among the three left behind. She’d found a pack of cards in her backpack. An unnecessary luxury she’d nearly thrown out of her pack many times. She’d never been so thankful to see a useless stack of cards. They’d started with poker, betting with fir needles that Alex had reluctantly agreed to go grab. He’d had Brynn cover him from the cargo door with Ryan’s gun as he dashed to the nearest tree. Their plane was like a cave. Every few hours Alex would step outside and make sure their cargo door wasn’t pinned closed by a growing snowbank while Brynn covered him with a weapon.

“Do you think he’s still here?”

She’d asked the question as they waited for Ryan to make his bet. Alex had told them of the message on the cockpit ceiling, but he hadn’t been sure of when it was written, and neither Brynn nor Ryan could recall if they’d glanced at the ceiling when they were in the plane the previous day.

“It could be old,” she’d stated.

“It could be fresh,” Alex had countered. He hadn’t looked her in the eye.

He’d creamed both of them at poker, and then Ryan had headed to the cargo area to stretch out and take a nap. Alex had leaned his head back in one of the big seats and partially closed his eyes. The silence had been heavy. He’d acted tired, but she noticed he kept one eye on the door at all times. Even while they had played. He’d watched Kiana too. When she’d start at a noise, Alex would leap, causing Ryan and Brynn to leap. Finally, Alex had relaxed somewhat, seeming to rely on the dog to give him an early warning if anyone approached.