Page 13 of Christmas at Watson Memorial

“Holy shit!” Arya laughs. “It's the freaking universe sending you a sign to get the hell out of here, dumbasses!”

“Let's go!” I insist. “Everyone's too busy with the blackout now. Nobody will notice.”

“Arya, I swear if we die…”

“Yeah, yeah, that's the spirit, Dr. Winters,” Arya teases, clapping. “Now move your butt before someone from the administration figures out what's going on. And please, Selene, try not to crash the helicopter, I don't want that ugly dude with the big belly who used to deliver organs last year coming back. You're much prettier to look at,” she adds with a wink.

Chapter 8

Alexia

The helicopter lurches on takeoff, stealing my breath. My lucky pen digs into my fingers as my other hand grips the seat until my knuckles turn ghost-white. From up here, Manhattan resembles a snow globe that some vengeful giant has shaken with brutal force. Its iconic streets and avenues have vanished beneath a pristine white blanket.

“Everything okay back there, Dr. Winters?” Selene's voice cuts through my headset, steady despite the wind battering us. “You're looking pretty cozy with that seat. Don't trust my flying, or is it the heights?” She laughs, the sound rich and warm in my ears.

“I'm fine,” I snap, my voice clipped.

“Right,” she drawls with that half-smile that sets my nerves on fire. “That's why you're clutching that pen like it's the last lifeboat on the Titanic.”

A violent gust rocks the helicopter, and I mutter a curse. The Empire State Building plays peek-a-boo through the blizzard like an urban specter.

“When you said you'd flown in worse conditions,” I growl through clenched teeth, “I didn't think you meant recreating disaster movies.”

“This is nothing. Try flying while getting shot at… Shit, fuck!” she cuts off, cursing as we drop several feet in an air pocket. “Though maybe this is getting interesting.”

“Interesting? Is that what we're calling imminent death now?”

“Hey, you're the one who insisted on waiting for that damn clearance. The one we never got, by the way. Shit!” Selene yanks the controls, and we swerve sharply to avoid a particularly dense wall of snow. “Listen, I need you to watch the instruments on your side of the panel. Ice is building up faster than I'd like. Can you handle that?”

“What do I need to do?”

“See that gauge on your right? If it hits the red zone, we've got trouble,” she explains.

“Which one? Because several are flirting with red right now,” I yell through the headset.

“Third from the left.”

“It's about to hit red. Is that bad? Jesus, Selene, I can barely see the skyscrapers. How are you keeping this thing airborne?”

“Same way you can do open-heart surgery — years of practice,” she replies, unfazed. “Now, I need your help with something else. Hit the second switch from the top, the one labeled anti-ice. Use your right hand — let's not tempt fate,” she teases.

“You noticed that?”

“That you only grip that pen with your right hand? Hard to miss,” she says.

I don't tell her it's not just any pen, but one that's been my lucky charm since childhood. I'm not even sure it still writes. Another violent shake interrupts any response I might have had.

“Okay, the indicator just went full red,” I announce.

“Shit! We'll have to gain altitude to get above this snow. Listen up - it'll be colder, and I don't have supplemental oxygen. If you start feeling dizzy, tell me immediately,” she instructs, and the oxygen part sends a chill down my spine.

The rest of her words get lost in the howling wind as we climb through the storm. My stomach lurches with the ascent, and I squeeze my eyes shut, clutching the pen like a talisman. When I open them again, we're beneath brilliant sunshine, with a sea of gray clouds below obscuring everything.

“Better?” Selene asks, and I realize I've been holding my breath.

“Define 'better' because I'm not sure. How can you navigate now? How long can we stay up here?”

“Not long enough,” she says, checking something on her flight instruments. “We'll have to descend when you start getting dizzy or if ice forms on the rotor blades. But hey,” she catches my gaze, and those blue eyes shine with an intensity that steals my breath, “at least up here we can pretend we're not flying without clearance.”