Page 3

Chapter Three

M ackenzie clutched the armrests in a vice-like grip and blinked at the surrounding carnage.

“Jesus! We crashed. Are you okay, Rodney?”

Rodney’s upper body slumped outside the plane. Mackenzie clawed his partner back in and shrieked. “Oh God. Rodney. No!”

Blood splattered Rodney’s face and half his jaw was disfigured beyond recognition.

Rodney was dead.

Mackenzie wanted to look away but couldn’t. Shock pinned him in place, making him take in every gruesome detail.

The creaking metal ticked off the seconds. One. Two. Six. Eleven.

Oh god. Nobody else is moving.

With tears blurring his vision, he forced his gaze away from Rodney.

Opposite him, Madonna’s body was doubled over, unnaturally still. He gasped at the metal pole sticking out of her stomach and looked away. His heart thundered in his chest as a fresh horror hit him.

Oh God! Is anyone else alive?

Behind him, the entire tail section of the plane was gone, sheared off barely inches from his seat. “Hello! Can anyone hear me?”

The plane was at a steep angle with the nose much higher than the back. He unbuckled his belt and was forced to grip the seat to stand.

A low groan broke the silence, and he spun toward the person in front. It was Toni; her neck kinked awkwardly. Thick blood oozed from her nose, and one eye remained open.

“Help.” A faint voice had the hairs on his neck prickling.

Spencer’s head was wedged backwards, and his eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. Toni was in Spencer’s wife’s seat.

He stepped over the jagged hole in the floor and jumped when a hand snatched his ankle.

“Help me.”

A shiver ran up his spine as he stared at Toni’s lifeless body. But then Abigail’s legs moved beneath her.

“Thank God.” He straddled the hole in the floor, and cringing, he lifted Toni off Abigail. Toni’s head rolled onto his shoulder, and he tried not to look into her vacant eyes as he placed her body in her original seat.

He scrubbed his hands on his jeans as he climbed back to help Abigail. “Are you okay?”

A deep gash sliced through a lump on her forehead. She touched the bulge and her eyes widened at the blood on her fingers.

“I’m bleeding,” she cried. “Spencer, help me!”

“He’s dead. Everybody’s dead!”

She turned to her husband and froze. Mackenzie thought she’d scream.

Instead, she covered her eyes and said, “No. No. No. No!”

Through the cockpit door, jagged pieces of the shattered windscreen glistened in the sun like giant teeth. He inched toward the oval doorway. The cockpit and the pilot had suffered the crunch of impact.

Blood dripped from several instruments, and the pungent smell of metal invaded his nostrils.

Bile rose in his throat.

Mackenzie ran to the hole in the floor and threw up.

Exhausted, he sat back and wiped his mouth. His eyes stung and his ribs ached. He felt Abigail staring at him.

“Are you hurt?” He climbed to his feet.

“Of course I’m bloody well hurt. I’m bleeding everywhere.”

He took another look at her wound. It was bad enough to cause a headache, but he didn’t think she’d even need stitches. “It’s just a small cut. Do you have any other injuries? ”

“I have pain all down my back from that stupid girl.”

Mackenzie glared at her. “She’s dead, you know.”

“Well, she should have put her seat belt on instead of flopping around like a bloody rag doll.” She looked perfectly calm.

Mackenzie had to get away from her before he said something nasty. Sidestepping around the hole, he inched to the back and was surprised at how high they were off the ground. . . like they were floating. Unable to work out why, he hung his legs over the shattered edge and jumped.

“Where are you going? Don’t leave me!”

He couldn’t decide if she was demanding or pleading.

Either way, he had to get away from her. “Out of here.”

“Don’t leave me,” she repeated.

He ducked under the wreck and escaped.