Unbreakable (Shadow Falls: After Dark 0.5)(15)

Thump.

Thump.

The light disappeared. Or that light did. Another light turned the inside of his eyelids red. He tried to open them, but they felt so heavy. Crusty, as if something had glued them shut.

Before he tried again, the pain hit. Pain in his arm. In his neck. His head. But amazingly, nothing else hurt. That’s when it hit him. It didn’t hurt because he couldn’t feel anything. He couldn’t feel anything below his chest. Not his legs, or his feet.

Forcing his eyes open, bits of white fell toward him. Snow. A flake fell into his eye and he blinked it away. More raw panic gripped his chest.

His parents? Mindy? Tami? He swallowed. His throat barely worked. He tried to raise his head. It hurt, but he did it anyway. “Mom? Dad?” he called, but the sound barely came out.

He blinked several times and tried to focus. All he could see was a mangled piece of metal that had once been a plane. The plane his dad loved. He called it Amy, named after his mom.

“Mom?” he called again and turned his head to see if he could spot anyone. He couldn’t. But then he saw the snow around the mass of mangled metal. It was red. Blood red.

He remembered the light. Seeing them in the bright tunnel. “No,” he screamed and tried to get up, but he couldn’t move his legs.

He dropped his head back in the pillow of snow. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks.

A wave of dizziness hit, bringing the blackness back. He embraced it.

***

Noise. Chase’s mind registered it. Metal scraping against metal.

He saw the red again on the back of his eyelids and forced his eyes open. Snow caught on his eyelashes, or was it ice? His face felt almost frozen, sort of half-numb.

“Damn it, Tallman. This wasn’t supposed to happen,” the voice boomed out of nowhere.

Chase used every bit of his energy to lift his head. He saw two men standing beside the red snow and plane wreckage. One wore a white coat. The other wore black, all black: black jeans and a black coat.

“I should have never involved him in this,” the man in white said, as if he was looking at …

Is he alive? Chase tried to speak but only air came out. Then again, he must have spoken, because the two men swung around as if he’d yelled the words.

“One of them is alive,” the man in white said. They both rushed closer, their footsteps crunching on the snow.

One of them? Only one? They were dead. His dad, mom, Mindy, and … Tami. He remembered the light.

November 1, 4 p.m.

News Flash: Update

Four confirmed dead in plane crash on Jasper Mountain Range

After a nearly six-hour trek to the crash site, the Search and Rescue (SAR) and Mountain Rescue Association (MRA) converged on the wreckage of the Cessna 210. Sheriff Ted Carter of Jasper County confirmed getting the report twenty minutes ago that four bodies have been found at the crash site of the plane flown by Dr. Edward Tallman and carrying four passengers. The friends and family of the victims already in Jasper have been notified. Identification of the bodies has yet to be made. But regrettably, the emergency crew does not anticipate finding any survivors. The crash site was worse than they had originally suspected, and it is believed that the last remaining passenger could have been thrown from the plane or is lying among the charred remains.

Sheriff Ted Carter was quoted saying, “On behalf of Jasper County, I offer my sincere condolences to the family and friends of the individuals who lost their lives today. As we continue to monitor the situation, our thoughts and prayers are with the loved ones of those who were on board.”

More updates will be made when available.

Oct. 31, 4:45 p.m.

Chapter Seven

Had these men really said his family was dead? Chase let his head fall back down. No, he couldn’t accept that. Couldn’t believe they were gone. He fought to keep his eyes open, wanting to ask again—to beg them to be wrong. To save his family. The two men appeared over him. He tried to open his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Black spots, like fireworks, started popping off in his vision. He couldn’t make out their faces, but he saw their shapes.

Then he saw … he saw their eyes. Glowing. Bright lime green. What the hell was wrong with his vision?

One of the men crouched down beside him, the snow crunching beneath the heels of his shoes. It was the guy in the lab coat. Chase couldn’t make out his face, but he saw his eyes, still glowing, and the white coat.

“Damn it,” the man said, looking up at the guy wearing black who stood over Chase. “He’s a carrier. Did we bring gloves?”

“No,” the other man said.

The dizziness had Chase closing his eyes, but he listened. Their voices were distant—as if on a radio in another room. He tried to pick up his right arm, but couldn’t.

“We’re here, kid,” one of them said and Chase felt his body shift slightly as if someone was moving the snow from around him. “Damn it. If I touch him I risk activating the virus. He’s in bad shape. He wouldn’t be able to survive the turn.”

“I disagree,” the deeper voice said. “It’s his only chance to survive.”

“He’s too weak. It’ll kill him,” the other voice argued.

“Probably, but he’s dying anyway. Turn him and at least he has a chance. It might not be much of one, but it’s the best shot he has.”