Page 19 of The Unlikely Pair
Even in a life-or-death situation, Harry Matheson will always be a complete and utter git.
“It’s okay. There’s a satellite phone in here,” Kade says as he riffles through the survival kit.
“Oh, that’s good. Because I don’t have any reception on my phone,” I say.
Harry and I watch as Kade takes out what looks like a mutant lovechild between a walkie-talkie and one of the first generations of mobile phones.
He fiddles with it for a few minutes before frowning at us.
“I’m not getting a good signal. It must be because we’re in a valley with all these trees. I’ll trek up that hill over there and see if I can get some reception to call for help. You two just stay close to the plane.” Kade says the last sentence like he expects we’re keen to hoof it off into the wilderness.
“Of course,” Harry says.
“I definitely don’t have any desire to go on an extended nature walk right now,” I say.
Kade hesitates. “Maybe you should give me your phones. I might be able to get a signal from them as I head up the hill.”
“All right.” Harry hands his over to Kade.
I hesitate. “Won’t the satellite phone work better than our mobiles?”
“It’ll be good to have a backup just in case the satellite phone is faulty,” he says.
I feel a strange reluctance as I hand my phone to Kade. It feels like I’m handing over a loyal pet, a pet that hashousetrained me to respond to every buzz and beep. It feels weird to be without my very small, rectangular limb that connects me to civilization and an endless supply of cat videos.
“I’ll be back as soon as possible,” Kade says.
“Sure.”
Once Kade leaves, the only sound is a few birds chirping and the gentle burbling of a stream, which I spot at the bottom end of the clearing.
Now that my adrenaline has worn off, I’m acutely aware that I was in a plane crash today.
I shuck off my jacket and unbutton my shirt so I can inspect how much damage the seatbelt has done. My skin immediately goosepimples in the cold air as I press my skin tentatively. I think I’ll have some bruises to show off in the next few days, but thankfully nothing more substantial.
Harry makes a noise that sounds like he’s sucking in a breath through his teeth.
When my gaze flies up to him, he’s looking at me scathingly. “Are you going to put your shirt back on?”
I send him an amused look. “Does me being shirtless offend your sensibilities, Harry?”
“Just because we’re currently stranded in the wilderness, there’s no need to abandon our standards,” Harry says formally.
“Apologies, Harry, there’s nothing I want more in life than to meet your standards,” I reply, tugging my shirt back on and buttoning it.
Harry scowls, which I take as a win.
But then he heads back to the plane, effortlessly levering himself onto the wing and climbing into the cabin before reemerging with his laptop bag.
He makes his way to a relatively flat rock, brushing off a spot with a handkerchief he’s produced from God knows where before settling down and placing his laptop on his knees. Thescene is so absurd that I half expect a tea service to materialize out of thin air. Harry opens his laptop with a precise click.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Are you seriously doing work right now?”
“Well, I’m finding the quality of the company distinctly lacking, so immersing myself in work seems like the best use of my time,” he says coolly.
