Page 54 of Blind Prophet

We still.

A low hissing noise intrudes.

I force my eyes open.

We’re tilted to one side.

Unscathed evergreens stand like giants in the distance.

We landed.

“Dorian!”

He’s there. In front of me, hands fumbling with my harness.

“We’ve got to get out of here.”

Decisive. Determined.

Sweat coats his brow.

“Are you okay?”

He’s calm. Commanding.

“Answer me, Cara. Is anything hurt?”

I take stock.

“Caroline.” He palms my face. “Are you hurt?”

“No.”

He pushes off my headphones.

Reaches past me and pushes on a door that’s tilted skyward. He kicks at it.

One kick. Two. It flings open.

Ticking noises and creaks sound through the cabin.

“What’s that noise?”

"Hydraulic or fuel line. I don’t know which. Maybe both."

My hands and arms tremble uncontrollably—not just from shock, but from the adrenaline surge.

He climbs out and helps me, lifting me as if I’m injured.

I can’t stop trembling.

I’m not sure I can walk, but we’re out, beside the tilted helicopter.

Scratched. Dented.

But all things considered…it’s okay.

He scoops my legs and lifts me, carrying me over the boulders.

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