Broken Wings (Dark Legacy #1)(40)
He was wearing a thick long sleeved shirt, unlike me, so I decided to take him up on that offer. “Thanks,” I said, slipping my arms in the sleeves before hauling the bags up again.
Beck leaned down then and helped Dylan lift Jasper to his feet. Gone was his cocky arrogance, and in its place was a pale, sweaty guy. “I think you should leave me here,” he bit out. “I’m a fucking liability to you like this.”
“No!” Beck snapped the word with force. “No man left behind. We’ll be fine.”
Jasper shook his head at his friend but didn’t argue. These four were close, and I was starting to really see it, especially in moments where their guard was down. Like right now. There was a true bond there, one which told me they would have each other’s backs no matter what.
“Did you try and call for help?” I had no idea where my phone was, but surely someone had theirs on them.
“No service,” Dylan said. “We’ll have to move toward a more populated area.”
“Is there anything around here like that?”
I had no idea about Canada except that they had a lot of uninhabited land.
“Guess we’re about to find out,” Jasper joked and then groaned as he leaned on Evan. They moved toward the back of the damaged plane. Beck gestured for me to go ahead of him, and I stepped in behind Dylan. On the way, both of them found two more fancy leather bags, and pulled out more warm clothing and other essentials. Apparently I was the only dickhead on this flight without clothes or a coat.
The heavy weight of the duffle bags was lifted from me, and I turned to find Beck with them both over his shoulder. “If you fall behind, you get left behind,” he warned me. “Keep up.”
I bristled, but I was too fucking tired and scared to fight with him, so I just turned around and moved closer to Dylan. I cursed myself for choosing last night of all nights to get wasted. Had I known today I would be in a plane crash followed by a trek through a snowy forest, I’d probably have rethought the alcohol.
The plane had landed in a densely packed part of the forest, and it was clear where we’d smashed through the trees and undergrowth. I almost couldn’t believe how much damage there was in the foliage around us, and it made me shudder all over again thinking about the fact that all of us could be dead right now. If Dylan didn’t know how to fly a plane—and how the fuck did he know that?—then we’d no doubt have landed nose first. Dead. Like my parents.
The pain was more of a dull slash this time, probably because I had some other things to worry about. Nothing like a fight for survival to take your mind off your dead parents.
No one spoke as we moved, and despite Beck’s warning, the pace wasn’t that fast. Jasper was just too injured to move quickly. Dylan stepped up at one point, and slipped Jasper’s other arm over his shoulders. It didn’t work that well because he was so tall, but they sort of figured out a rhythm.
We moved faster then, and I tried to ignore the pains in my body that pushed me to stop and rest. I was taking Beck’s warning seriously, fall behind and get left behind. And since they’d basically said we were being hunted by whomever had orchestrated the crash, I really didn’t want to find myself out here alone.
After what felt like days of walking, but was probably only three hours, Dylan held up a hand. “Jasper has to rest,” he said.
Evan and Dylan slowly lowered their friend to the ground. He groaned and dropped his head back against the tree he was leaning on. “More painkillers,” he said, sounding a little breathless.
Beck found them quickly, along with the water I’d packed, and handed them to Jasper. “Anyone else?” he asked.
I was half tempted, because my body was starting to hurt like a bitch, but Jasper needed them more. Touching my fingers to my temple, I remembered that Dylan was supposed to patch me up. “Let me look at that,” Beck said, catching me by surprise. I hadn’t even seen him move back my way, dude was stealthy. “I don’t have Dylan’s training, but I do okay.”
Dylan snorted from nearby, and I realized he had been sweeping the ground and setting up a makeshift shelter. “Don’t listen to Beck. He has as much, if not more survival skills than me. Our parents raised us to survive.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, looking between them while Beck lifted a white medical kit out, opening it and using something from inside to dab at my face.
I flinched when something cold and stingy hit my cut before gritting my teeth and staying still to let him finish. “Delta started out with five friends who were survivalists. They had a vision for a better life, and they worked together to make it happen. Ever since then, it’s been part of the successors’ training. Survival skills, martial arts, weapons training. We aren’t just rich, we’re ruthless and deadly,” Beck said slowly, tracing his fingers across my face, and sending a shock of energy through my body as I clenched my thighs to ease the ache he seemed to create in me with nothing more than a touch. “Dylan and I have been dropped in the middle of nowhere before, with nothing more than a knife and a bottle of water.”
“How old were you?” I asked, trying to wrap my head around what he was saying. I mean, these were the kids of billionaires. Not Bear fucking Grylls. How the hell did they survive?
“The first time we were eight,” Dylan said, still building his shelter. “The last time … fourteen.”