Page 27 of Aviator
“Like I said, Jamie’s a little paranoid.”
Or at least that’s what I’m saying to convince myself. I was able to ignore the messages from Ford and Cal at first. It’s not the first time one of them has tried to reach out and reconnect. I got so successful at pushing them away after everything went down that they pretty much gave up.
“Do you know anything about something called Project Sentinel?” she asks.
“Never heard of it. Is it like a movie?”
Kenna is silent for a long time. “No, it’s not a movie. We’ll talk about it later. Anyway, I’ve told you about Kady, but I also have a bunch of younger sisters.” She tells me about her three younger sisters, and I lose myself in the sound of her voice. It takes until our first rest break, a good hour’s trek, for me to realize why she’s doing it.
Little brat. I don’t need her distractions. I’ll do just fine on my own, like I always have.
But that doesn’t stop me from letting her tell me all about her family. For a second, with her voice filling my ears and my body weary from exertion, the sucking black hole in my chest recedes.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
KENNA
The wind cutsinto my jacket and jeans as we trudge through the endless snow-covered terrain. I can’t remember what it was like to exist without being cold. Hell isn’t fire. It’s snow and ice. Isn’t there a poem like that? I swear when we get out of here, I’m going to spend a couple weeks—no months—in a tropical climate. All I want is endless beaches and all the sunshine I can absorb. Maybe I’ll even convince the girls to move somewhere where there is no snow ever. Like Miami. If I’m never in the snow again for the rest of my days, it’ll be too soon.
A glance at Dean shows me he’s moving slower than ever, his steps achingly precise, presumably so he doesn’t trip. Even from a distance, I can see he’s trembling from exhaustion. I thought the stoic hero who endures despite all obstacles was a thing of romance-trope mythology. Just something you saw in the movies or read about in books. But Dean embodies that character, the kind of man who stays strong through the worst conditions.
It makes it damn hard to stay pissed at him for being such a dick to me before the crash. I’m trying to hold on to the spite, but it’s difficult when I fought so hard to save him. When I’m so grateful he’s alive, and I’m not alone.
Seeing him hike for hours on end with a broken leg makes me look at him in a new light. There’s a tenderness inside me that warms every time I see his continued displays of resilience. Even though he’s injured and exhausted, I haven’t heard him complain once since we left. He hasn’t even blamed me for being the reason we’re both stuck out here, even though he’d be completely justified to do so. I wouldn’t fault him if he yelled at me now for it. But he hasn’t. He even let me blab on about my family, though I assumed he couldn’t care less.
I also know that I can’t give up now when he’s fighting so hard to make it out of here. I’d kill for a hot coffee and a warm bed, and that tropical vacation is also calling my name, but I have to keep pushing for Dean’s sake. He wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for me.
I glance back at him and am relieved that he’s still there, trudging through the snow. He doesn’t look happy about it, that’s for sure. As I turn away, I find my lips lifting in an ironic smile. Who would have thought I’d be reassured to find Dean Tyler’s grumpy face still behind me?
“You doing alright?” I shout over my shoulder. The wind isn’t as bad as it was. . . the day before? Two days? I think I’ve lost count. It feels as though it’s been an eternity.
“The same as I was when you asked twenty minutes ago,” Dean answers, and I can hear the not-so-thinly veiled sarcasm even above the wind. Well, at least that hasn’t changed. I may have softened toward him, but he hasn’t thawed a bit where I’m concerned.
“I think we’re almost there.” Of course, I don’t know that for certain, but we’ve been at this for hours. We have to be getting close. If not. . . well. We’ll worry about that if we come to it.
Dean doesn’t answer, but then again, he’s probably saving all his energy to glare at my back. Why does that feel more affectionate than intimidating now? Maybe it’s because he’s a lot less scary with a limp and no gun in his hand.
As soon as we get off this mountain, I’m sure I’ll go back to thinking that he’s a jerk. A grumpy, cuddly jerk.
We march on for what feels like years. At some point, I’m stumbling to place one foot in front of another. My pants are damp, clinging to my numb thighs, and poor Dean can barely stay upright. When he falls to his knees with a sharp cry, I struggle to his side despite my vision going hazy with exhaustion.
“Let me help you,” I say. I wrap his arm around my shoulder and take some of his weight. It’s awkward, and the man must be pure muscle because he’s heavy as all hell, but he gets to his feet.
He grunts but doesn’t say anything in protest, which is how I know he truly is exhausted. We have to find this ranger’s station.
Soon.
I’m not certain how much longer we’ll last out here without shelter and warmth. At this point, I’m not even hungry anymore, and I could sleep for about a thousand years.
I spot a fallen tree and guide Dean over to it. It doesn’t take any convincing to get him to sit and take a break.
My heart stutters slightly at how gray his formerly tan complexion has gotten. Pushing to my feet, I say, “I’m going to scout ahead and see if I can find the station. You wait here, and I’ll come back for you. Which direction is it?”
Dean merely points somewhere behind me, and I nod firmly, more to myself than anything, and head out before he can argue that it’s a bad idea. Trust me, I know it’s a bad idea. The sum total of my experience with the wilderness involves a weekend of glamping. The fact that I’m now in charge of keeping the both of us alive is ironic, to say the least. But I’m nothing if not determined.
Our lives depend on it.
I keep Dean in sight as I trudge through the snow and into the dense forest. I almost give up when I spot a shape out of the corner of my eye. Spinning around, I see a building in the distance. Maybe half a mile away down the mountain.
