Breaking Sky(78)

Chase jammed the stick sideways. The jet jinked, and Dragon’s left wing exploded.

“Nyx!” Pippin cried out. They fell in a gut-twisting spin. Chase fought for control while the lake seemed to rise to meet the jet.

They were too low to eject.

She couldn’t save the landing.

They skipped off the surface as though it were granite. Dragon’s right wing ripped off with a horrible screech. Chase’s head whipped against her seat back, and they slammed to a stop near the sandy shore.

Smoke filled the cockpit. The canopy glass was somehow still holding shape, and yet it had been fractured like a net thrown over them. She hit the release and the canopy rose.

Chase got out of her seat, choking on each breath. “Pippin!” she tried to yell.

His head hung over his chest, and when she shook him, he didn’t move.

Chase hauled Pippin onto her shoulder. They fell over the side of the jet, landing with a splash in the few inches of water. She dragged him away from Dragon. The wet sand swallowed each step, and she stumbled several times before they fell into a pile at the lapping edge of the lake.

Her helmet was gone, and she didn’t know when she’d lost it. She pulled Pippin’s off, finding a huge crack across the back of it. Bad sign. She checked his pulse, but her fingers were too cold from the water. She pressed her ear to his chest and listened for a beat.

He had one. Thank God.

“Wake up.” She shook him. She knew she should be gentle, but she couldn’t stop herself. “Pippin?”

His eyelids trembled before they opened. “My head,” he said.

“You cracked it.”

“You cracked it,” he argued.

A bit of relief settled in. If he was joking, he was okay. She forced herself to breath, looking at the cloudless blue sky. “Where’s Phoenix? Where’d that drone go? Will it come back?”

No one responded.

“Pip?” Chase pulled his body over her lap, and his head tilted at a harsh angle like he couldn’t hold it up.

“I’m gonna—gonna—” He threw up, and she held his shoulders while the water turned gross. He collapsed onto her lap, and Chase found blood all over her hands. All down Pippin’s flight suit.

“Your head is bleeding,” she said. “I’ve got to get you out of the water.”

“Doesn’t matter. Cerebral edema. Brain filling with blood.”

“Don’t mess with me.” She swore. “Rescue helos are on their way. It’ll be any minute.”

“They’re hours away. We’re in Nowhere, Canada. I’m the navigator, remember? You’re the one failing geography.” He sucked in breath. “I have a few minutes, maybe, before the pressure takes out my higher brain functions.”

She ignored him. “We just have to stay chill to fight off shock. Okay?”

“Okay.”

There was that word again. That god-awful word.

“Chase, I’m not going to make any sense in a…really soon. Hurts.”

“You’re not a doctor, and your head is fine.” But it wasn’t. His head felt heavier in her lap. It was swelling in her hands and—if Pippin was right—inside his skull.

An eerie calm fell over them as the water bloomed red. Chase forced herself to focus on him, but her fear was the wind and it was pulling her apart. “You just need some stitches and you’ll be all right.” She squeezed his uniform, pulled him tighter.

Pippin’s eyes were glassy, bulging almost, but they were fastened to hers. “I hate these movies. They always kill the gay kid.”

“Shut up. You’re not dying.”

“Why’re you so sure?” he asked.

“Do you see me begging for forgiveness or spouting I love yous?”

“Indeed.” He tried to smile, but his lips didn’t quite make it. Blood lined his teeth. The panic spread from the corner of her mind and fractured inward at an alarming rate. Chase couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t lose Pippin.

Her breath rasped, and she glanced at the sky to hide her tears. “Where are they?”

“Lost my left eye. Confused,” he said. “The bridge…cross it. The right one.” He started to gasp. His breath stalled out. “Respiratory center affected. Confused.”

“Stop diagnosing yourself!” She shook him and then pressed her face to his hair. It was wet and gritty with sand. “Tell me about ‘Ode to Joy.’ What’s it really about?”

“About joy. I was being…a…difficult.” He cried out suddenly, his breath breaking apart. “Terrified,” he said. “No legs.”

“Your legs are fine,” she said, choking on the words. The world was leaning in, shaking her, pushing her. She held Pippin even tighter. “Tell me something. Come on, Pip.”

“Up, down, the notes. Up…and down.” He closed his eyes. “Fools fly. No. Listen, Chase.”

He gave her name his last tearing breath.





DELTA





35


    SMOKING HOLE


   What’s Left


Chase tripped down the shore, desperate to escape the waft of smoke.

She left Pippin’s body. Her voice was broken from saying his name, and her flight suit was stained red from her stomach to her knees. When she could barely see Dragon, she sat hard and folded her legs into her chest.