Chapter Twelve

Mel couldn’t see. Couldn’t move.

Panic flooded her mind, and her breaths came hard and fast as she struggled against the bonds. But she wasn’t going anywhere, and she forced herself to inhale slowly, then exhale. Finally, she opened her eyes.

Chaos. For a moment she couldn’t make sense of what she was seeing. Nothing appeared right. She blinked, then realized her chair must have come free, because she was lying on her side, her cheek pressed to the carpeted floor. She fumbled with the catch of the seat belt, her fingers shaking.

The plane had been hit.

They’d gone down.

Get a grip.

This was her first flight in this time. It could have gone better.

A hand covered her own, and the catch came free, releasing her. The same hand gripped her shoulder as she struggled to rise.

“Just lie still for a moment. Are you okay?”

She looked up into Quinn’s dark blue eyes and relief flowed through her system. Was she okay? She did a quick mental check over. She had some bruises but that was all. She gave a nod. “I’m fine. How’s everyone else?”

Releasing his hold on her, he straightened, then held out his hand. She gripped it hard. He pulled her to her feet and she stood for moment, forcing her legs to steady her. Her fingers trembled as she ran a hand through her hair. But she’d told the truth; she was fine.

“Kaitlin’s hurt—looks like a broken leg. Martin is unconscious, but he’s still breathing and there’s no obvious damage. Hopefully, it’s just a bang on the head. The attendant has gone to get a first aid kit.”

“How about you?” she asked. “Any damage?”

“A cut on my arm. It’s nothing.”

She looked closely; his black shirt was wet. He was bleeding, and she reached out and touched him. “It doesn’t look like nothing.”

“It can wait. We need to check out the pilots and get out of here. We’re sitting ducks if anyone comes to finish what they started.”

It hadn’t occurred to her that they were still in danger. But then her brain was hardly functioning at maximum capacity. She gave a little shake of her head. She had to pull herself together. But she was feeling more than a little lightheaded. It was just relief…she hoped.

Looking around, her gaze settled on Martin, still in his seat, but he was slumped over, clearly unconscious. She searched and found Kaitlin. Like hers, the seat had come free, hurling the girl across the cabin. She’d gotten herself out—or someone had helped her—and she sat beside it, her back leaning against the cabin wall, her face tight with pain.

“You go check on the pilots,” she said to Quinn.

He studied her face, then gave a quick nod. “Yes, ma’am.” Then he leaned closer and dropped a kiss on her lips. “That’s for staying alive,” he said. “I saw you lying there and…” He shook his head. “I’ll be right back.”

He crossed to the door to the cockpit, picking his way over debris. When he pushed at the door, it didn’t budge, so he pushed harder, finally creating a gap big enough for him to slip inside.

Mel stood for a moment orientating herself, then turned back as the flight attendant appeared, hurrying over to Martin. Mel came to stand beside her.

“We need to lay him down,” the woman said.

Together they got Martin free of his seat belt and laid him out on the floor of the cabin. His face was pale, but he was breathing steadily. A purple lump had formed on the side of his head.

“I think he’ll be all right,” the attendant said. “I have some medical training—they send us on courses in case of…” She shrugged as she moved her hands over Martin. “No obvious injuries,” she muttered.

She was a pretty woman, around thirty, with dark hair caught up in a sleek bun at the back of her head and perfect makeup, which had survived the crash without a smudge.

“What’s your name?” Mel asked.

“Elizabeth. Liz.”

“I’m Mel.”

Liz picked up her first aid kit and they crossed to where Kaitlin leaned against the wall, her teeth gritted against the pain, her hand clutching her right thigh. Mel crouched down beside her. Kaitlin’s face was white, and her eyes almost black. The shock of pink at the front of her hair was the only flash of color.

“How are you doing?” Mel asked.

“Well, let me tell you, I have had better days. I should have gone straight to fucking Disney World.”

“We’re going to have to cut those pants off you,” Liz said.

“No! I love these pants. I suspect these pants are all that’s holding me together.” She licked her lips, then shifted a little, so she was sitting straighter. “The leg is broken. But it hasn’t come through the skin, so there’s no need to look at it. Quinn says we need to get off the plane. So just strap it up and we’ll discuss the pant cutting thing later.”

Liz studied her for a moment, then gave a quick nod. “It’s going to hurt.”

Kaitlin gave her an incredulous look. “It fucking hurts now.”

Liz reached into her pocket and pulled out a bottle of amber liquid—scotch, from the label. She unscrewed the top and handed it to Kaitlin. “This will work faster than any painkiller.”

Kaitlin’s hands were shaking as she took the bottle. She took a slug and gave a grimace. Then another slug.

Liz straightened and glanced around the cabin. “We need something to use as a splint, to hold the leg straight.” She disappeared back through the door and returned a few seconds later carrying a two-foot pole. Next, she opened the first aid kit and pulled out a large bandage.

“You ready?” she asked Kaitlin.

“No.” She screwed up her eyes. “But go on. Do it.”

Mel reached out and took the girl’s hand—the one that wasn’t clutching the bottle—holding it tight while Liz took hold of her ankle and gently pulled the leg straight.

Kaitlin’s fingers locked tight around Mel’s hand, and her whole body went rigid. Then the breath left her, and she slumped over. Mel caught the bottle as it slipped from her fingers. Liz laid the pole along the leg and quickly wrapped it in place with the bandage. As she finished, Kaitlin’s eyes flickered open.

“Ow, ow, ow.”

Liz plucked a bottle of pills from the kit and shook out two. “Open up.”

Kaitlin obediently opened her mouth and Liz placed the pills on her tongue. Mel handed her the bottle, and she washed them down with a mouthful of scotch. Then she sat back, eyes closed, a single tear spilling down over her cheek.

“So, brat, it looks like all we need to do to make you do as you’re told is break a leg,” Quinn said from behind her.

Kaitlin’s eyes opened, then narrowed. “You know, I woke up this morning and thought, should I go see Quinn? Or should I go to Disney World? Guess I made the wrong freaking decision.”

“We’re alive, and I’m betting none of the rides at Disney would get your adrenaline going like a plane crash did.”

“Yeah, you did great, Quinn—you really know how to show a girl a good time.”

Kaitlin was clearly in pain, but she would heal…if they got the chance. It was time to get away from here and find out what had happened. Mel straightened, then turned to Quinn. “The pilot?”

“He’s dead. Probably whiplash—broke his neck.”

She heard a gasp from Liz. Had they been friends?

“The co-pilot’s alive, though,” Quinn continued. “He passed out, but he’s coming around now. We need to salvage what we can from the plane and get away from here. That’s not going to be easy with two of us incapacitated.”

“I’m not incapacitated,” Kaitlin said. “Though maybe a little inebriated.” She took a slug of the scotch. “Just give me a moment and I’ll be right as rain.”

“Of course you will.” He blew out his breath then turned to Liz. “We need food, blankets, water. Are there any weapons on board?”

“Weapons?”

“We were just shot out of the sky. There’s a good chance they were monitoring the flight and know we’re down. Weapons would be good.”

Liz looked at him for a moment and then gave a quick nod. “There are a couple of pistols in a lock box in the cockpit.”

“Go get them. We’ll start on the other stuff.”

When Liz had gone, Quinn turned to her. “Okay?”

She nodded. “I’m fine. Where are we? Do you really think they’ll come after us?”

“They went to a hell of a lot of trouble to bring us down. So, yes. In all likelihood, they’re going to check to make sure they did the job properly. On the plus side, we’re deep inside the Okefenokee swamp. It will be hard to get to us by land, so that should give us some time to get away. Let’s go have a look at where we are exactly.” He crossed to the external door, pulled the handle, and it swung upward. Mel came to stand beside him and they looked out. The bottom of the door was level with the water and she took an instinctive step back. She hated water, and her heart rate picked up again. She forced her gaze away. Above them, the sky was blue, the clouds had dissipated, and the sun was bright, reflecting off the still lake. Everything looked so peaceful. It was hard to believe they’d just crashed down from the sky.

Her gaze was drawn back to the water. She swallowed. “Will we sink?”

“No.” He cast her a look and his brows drew together. “Are you all right? You’ve lost what little color you had.”

She gave a little lift of her shoulders. “I don’t like water.” She’d never talked about this to anyone, but for some reason, the words came rushing out. “My family drowned in a flood when I was five.” They’d worked the land below a dam that had been blown up.

“I thought your father was in the FBI?”

“My adoptive father. He was part of the rescue crew. I was the only survivor.”

He reached out and stroked her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago and my father is fabulous.” She’d probably had a better life. Certainly, a more interesting one.

“Anyway,” Quinn said. “There’s no need to worry. The lake is shallow—only about five feet here. And we’ve hit the bottom.”

“Well, that’s one good thing.” She could do this; she wouldn’t let her fears control her. Leaning out the door, she peered along the line of the plane. The tail end was pointing into the middle of a large expanse of water. Heavy forest lined the edges, tall narrow trees reaching high into the sky. There wasn’t a road in sight. Or even a pathway around the bank. Somehow, they were going to have to get out of here, presumably carrying at least Kaitlin, and probably Martin as well; he was still out cold.

The front end of the plane was pushed into the bank. Obviously, that was what had caused them to stop. They could climb out over the top and slide down over the cockpit but that would be hard carrying a stretcher. And the vegetation looked particularly dense at that point. They’d be torn to pieces.

She glanced at the monitor on her wrist—it was still functioning. She could request an emergency withdrawal. But if she did that, there was a chance that they wouldn’t send her back. The Bureau might even consider the deaths of everyone on this plane the best result for the job. She wouldn’t risk that. Which meant she was stuck here.

She turned back and saw that Quinn was tapping at his cell phone, though from his look of frustration, he wasn’t getting anywhere. “The place is locked up tight. No signals getting in or out.”

Liz appeared at the door of the cockpit, the co-pilot behind her, and they both carried pistols. The co-pilot was tall, around thirty, with sandy blond hair and the tough look of an ex-soldier. Blood trickled down the side of his face from a cut on his forehead, but at least he was up and moving. He halted just inside the cabin and raised his pistol to point directly at Quinn. Clearly, he perceived Quinn to be the biggest threat around here.

“Is someone going to tell me what the hell is going on? Starting with who the fuck shot my plane down.”

Quinn didn’t answer. For a few seconds, the man’s fingers tightened on the gun, then a look of confusion crossed his face and a frown formed between his eyes.

“Hand me the gun,” Quinn said.

Mel glanced between the two of them. Quinn appeared relaxed, concentrating on something she couldn’t see. Finally, the co-pilot took a slow step toward him, then another. The hand holding the gun stretched out, and Quinn plucked it from the man’s fingers. He checked the safety and then pushed it down the back of his pants.

“Cool,” Kaitlin murmured and took another sip of scotch.

The co-pilot gave himself a little shake as if coming awake. “What the hell just happened?”

Quinn shrugged. “If we get out of this, I’ll tell you.”

“And believe me, that’s a story worth making a bit of effort for,” Kaitlin added.

Liz stepped forward. She still held the other pistol, but it hung at her side. She was looking between them as though she had no clue what to do.

“Hand the gun to Mel,” Quinn said.

Mel moved forward and took the pistol from Liz’s outstretched hand. She reckoned she’d just seen some mind control at work. It was rumored that the Tel-group had powers beyond pure telepathy. Had Quinn just used some compulsion to get Liz and the pilot to do what he wanted? The implications were huge.

Quinn pushed a hand through his hair. “Look, I know you have questions and no reason to trust us right now, but the truth is, someone tried to kill us. And while the two of you might not be direct targets, you’ll be just as dead anyway. Our best bet is to work together.”

The co-pilot gave a curt nod, clearly not happy but accepting Quinn’s words. “My name’s Pete. So, what do we do next?”

“First, we need to get off this plane and find somewhere we can get a message out. I take it none of the plane’s communication equipment is working?”

“All dead.”

“Does anyone know the area?” Mel asked.

Liz took a small step forward. “I do, a little. My family came here on vacation a couple of times when I was a teenager.”

“Tell us about it.”

“It’s not huge. About thirty or forty miles across at the widest.” Easy enough if there was a road and they didn’t have to carry two invalids. “There are trails around the place, too. It’s a big tourist draw.”

Quinn stepped closer to the doorway and looked out. “So why aren’t we seeing any tourists right now?”

“There was a fire alert here a couple of days ago. It was on the news. They probably haven’t reopened yet.”

Mel’s gaze strayed to the window, but there was no sign of smoke in the clear air. That was all they needed.

Quinn turned back. “So, we get off, find one of these trails, and get the hell out of here.”

“They could be watching the entrances to the park,” Mel added. “They’ll expect us to go there.”

“Actually,” Quinn said, “there’s a good chance they’ll think we’re all dead, so they’ll check the plane out first. Which means we need to get out of here as soon as we can. Then we’ll worry about where to go next. Right now, we’re sitting ducks.” He looked around. “We need something to use as stretchers.”

“We have two for emergencies,” Liz said. “We also have an inflatable life raft.”

“Get them.”

Liz nodded and hurried away, Pete close behind her. Mel still had the pistol in her hand and she checked the safety and shoved it into her jacket pocket.

Quinn crouched down beside Kaitlin. Mel watched as he stroked the hair from her face, his fingers tugging the bright pink streak. “I like this.”

Kaitlin twisted her lips into a smile. A fine sheen of sweat gleamed on her forehead, and her eyes were bright. “You do?” She sounded almost disappointed.

“But I bet Kane would hate it,” he added.

The smile grew. “Yeah. Fucker.”

“Who’s Kane?” Mel asked. Had they mentioned him before?

“Kaitlin’s boyfriend,” Quinn said with a grin.

A laugh escaped Kaitlin, and she winced. “Ouch.”

“Are you going to be okay?” Mel asked.

“I haven’t a lot of choice. I have no intention of sacrificing myself for the greater good. I’m getting out of here. Which means you’re carrying me. How’s Martin?”

Mel crossed to where he lay on the floor, his eyes closed, but breathing steady. “Fine, I think. But still out cold.”

The other two hadn’t reappeared yet. “Can we trust them?” she asked.

“For now. They’re both still in shock. The pilot was a friend, as well as a colleague. They’re not functioning at full capacity right now. Hopefully, we’ll be away from here by the time they are.”

They appeared at that moment, Pete carrying a large bundle, presumably the raft. Mel didn’t want to think about that too closely. Bobbing about on the swamp with only a thin layer of plastic between her and the treacherous water. Icy fear twisted around her heart.

Pete hefted the bundle out the open doorway, keeping hold of a rope at one end, which he tied to the rail on the open door. He reached out and pulled at something on the side and the whole thing exploded, unfolding, growing, flattening out. In only seconds, a raft lay on the water. It didn’t look substantial enough to stay afloat with all of them in it. Maybe she should offer to stay behind.

Liz was pulling two lightweight stretchers behind her—just poles with red material between. She dropped one beside Martin, then carried the other to Kaitlin.

“Get ready for some bad language,” Kaitlin muttered.

“Just scoot yourself down, so you’re lying on your back, and we’ll shift you across.”

The girl swallowed. “You know, they tortured me once or twice—though they didn’t call it that. They had some scientific research name for it. I didn’t tell them anything. In fact, I spat in their faces. I can take pain. I just wanted you to know that, in case I scream or something.”

When and where had she been tortured? She seemed too young to have gone through so much.

Quinn rested a hand on her shoulder and pushed her gently down. Her face was tight with concentration, but she didn’t scream. Probably because her lower lip was clamped hard in her teeth. Finally, she lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling.

“Support her feet,” Quinn said.

Mel crouched down beside her and slipped her hand under Kaitlin’s ankles, feeling a shudder run through her. She kept her gaze fixed on Quinn. He gave a nod and pushed his hands beneath her, picking her up a few inches. Mel lifted her ankles, so they wouldn’t be jolted, and moved with him as he shifted Kaitlin sideways and lowered her onto the stretcher.

There wasn’t a sound.

“She’s passed out,” Mel said, looking at Kaitlin’s pale face. Her lashes lay across her cheeks, and her lips were slightly parted, with a trickle of blood on her chin from where she’d bitten through her lip. Quinn leaned across and wiped the blood away with his thumb.

“Probably for the best,” he said. “And not surprising after all that scotch.” He stood staring down at her. “She’s tough. She’ll be fine. Come on, one more.” But in fact, Liz and Pete were already in the process of lifting Martin onto the second stretcher.

“Okay, we’ve got five minutes. Let’s get anything we can think of that might be useful. Blankets, water, the first aid kit. Any food and drink. We might have to stay out tonight if the tracks and roads are blocked.

Liz nodded, then went to a locker at the front and pulled out a bundle of bags.

“Blankets are over there.” She handed a bag to Quinn and waved at another set of lockers.

“I’ll go check the radio one last time,” Pete said, disappearing into the cockpit.

“You can come with me,” Liz said, and Mel followed her out through the door in the rear of the cabin and into a small kitchenette. “Hold the bag open.” Mel did as she was instructed and watched as Liz methodically opened the cabinets and emptied the contents into the open bag. Packets of food—many of which she didn’t recognize, except for bread—she recognized that at least—quickly piled up. And fruit. Liz examined the contents of a large fridge, selected a few items and added them.

“Do you think we’re going to need all this stuff?” Mel asked. She presumed they would be out maybe one night at the most, depending on the terrain they had to cross with the stretchers.

“Right now, I have no clue what we’ll need. But it’s easier to dump it later than come back for it. The raft can carry twenty people, so it will take us and a few provisions. We’ll sort it out when we have more of an idea what we’re going to do.”

“There seems to be a lot.”

“We carry a wide choice of food on these flights,” Liz said. “Most people who rent a plane this size are wealthy and expect their every whim to be catered to.” Liz didn’t sound as though she was impressed by their usual clients. “Wealthy assholes.”

“At least they never got you blown out of the sky.”

Liz’s face dropped. “I’d been trying not to think about that.” She wiped a hand over her forehead, then moved to the next cupboard. It was filled with alcohol and she stared at it for a minute, then opened a second bag and put in six bottles, hesitated then added another four. The bag clinked as she picked it up. “I suspect I’m going to need a drink when the shock wears off.”

“You’re doing great,” Mel said.

Liz paused for a moment and glanced at her. “So are you. Just who are you people? Drug dealers…? Terrorists?”

Mel pulled her badge out of her pocket and held it up for Liz to read. “FBI.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re the good guys?”

“Yeah, we’re the good guys.” Quinn’s voice came from the open doorway. “Are you two finished? We have to leave.”

Liz looked around the room. She grabbed a small pile of towels, and a handful of cutlery and shoved them on top of her bottles. “You get the first aid kit?”

“It’s already in the raft.”

“Good. There’s a crate of bottled water, down there.” She waved toward the corner of the small room. “Put that in as well.”

Quinn nodded and crossed the room, picked up the crate and headed out. Mel followed him with her heavy bag of food, Liz behind her, bottles clinking. Pete was already in the raft. It swayed as though nudged by invisible hands. The movement made Mel’s stomach churn. It was quite big and bright orange; if anyone was looking for them it would be easy to spot. But she supposed that under normal circumstances, that was the whole idea. Rescuers would be able to see them from a long way off. But no one was coming to rescue them. Though presumably someone must have noticed them going down. A plane dropping out of the sky was hard to miss. But even if the rescuers were well intentioned, it was better to avoid them at this point.

They handed the stuff down and Pete stored it beneath the benches around the edge of the raft, balancing the weight. He raised a brow at Liz’s bag of bottles but didn’t say a word, just tucked it away. Then held out his hand to Liz. She took it and jumped down, stepping lightly across the raft and seating herself on the bench at the far end.

“Right,” Quinn said. “Let’s get Kaitlin and Martin on board, and we’ll get out of here.”

Pete made to climb back onto the plane, but Mel stepped forward. “Stay there. I can do it.” At his raised brow, she gave a small smile. “I’m stronger than I look.”

She crouched down by Kaitlin’s head. Her eyes were still closed but her lashes fluttered open as though she sensed Mel’s presence. “Tell me it was all a bad dream,” she muttered.

“It was all a bad dream,” Mel said obediently. “Unfortunately, though, you’re still asleep, so it’s not over yet.”

“Bugger.”

She shuffled down, taking hold of the stretcher’s handles at either side of Kaitlin’s feet. Then she glanced across at Quinn who had the handles at Kaitlin’s head. Her gaze was drawn to his left hand and the trickle of blood emerging from the sleeve of his dark shirt.

“You’re still bleeding,” she said.

He glanced down. “It’s nothing, just a cut reopening. I’ll clean it up once we’re away from here.” He turned his attention to Kaitlin. “Just hold your breath and imagine something nice,” Quinn suggested.

“Smothering Kane in honey and tying him on an anthill?”

Quinn grinned. “That will do it.” He looked into Mel’s eyes and gave a quick nod. They both straightened, lifting the stretcher.

“Shit. I’m going to hurl,” Kaitlin said through gritted teeth.

“No, you’re not. Think of all that wasted scotch, and how bad you’ll smell. Besides, we’ll tell Kane what a little girl you were.”

She clamped her lips closed and perspiration beaded on her forehead. The journey only took a couple of seconds. Pete was waiting and took the handles from her, maneuvering the stretcher to the center of the raft. He and Quinn lowered it down.

“Okay?” Quinn asked.

“Do I look okay?” Kaitlin snarled.

Quinn grinned, then turned to Liz. “Give her some more scotch.”

“Are you sure? She’s had a lot. And with the painkillers…”

“Kaitlin has a very…impressive metabolism. It’s not going to hurt her, and it might stop her whining.”

“Okay, you know best.”

Carrying Martin was much easier. They didn’t have to worry about jolting him. Mel really hoped he was okay. But his color looked fine and his breathing was normal. He was put into the raft next to Kaitlin, who was already wrapped in a blanket and cuddling a bottle of amber liquid.

Quinn jumped in. She was the only one left now, but Mel couldn’t seem to move. Irrational terror held her locked in place. He turned, his gaze running over her, lingering on the tight grip of her hands on the edge of the open doorway. She half expected him to laugh at her fear, which she knew must show on her face. Behind him, the others watched. Quinn considered her a moment longer, then turned away. Was he going to leave her? But he just pulled something out from beneath one of the benches. “Put this on,” he said, handing it to her.

She had to let go with one hand to take it. It was a life jacket. She slipped it on over her head. It was deflated, but even so, she felt better with it on. She was quite aware her fear was irrational.

I can do this.

She looked into Quinn’s face, and he gave her a slow smile. “Let go, Melody. I’ll catch you.”

And she pried her frozen fingers free and took that huge step forward and into his arms.