Page 20

The first thing I felt was the cold. A biting, relentless cold that lashed at my skin like a whip. The wind stung my face. My head hung forward against my chest, my neck aching, stiffening. With immense effort, I tried to lift my hand to touch it, but my fingers felt numb and unresponsive.

I blinked, struggling to bring the world into focus.

Then I realized I was still in my seat. But the seat… it wasn’t on the plane anymore.

It was on the ground.

The reddish-brown field beneath me was dusted with snow, and thick fog curled through the air, obscuring the horizon. A pale, gray dawn stretched above me.

My hand felt frozen, barely able to move. With great difficulty, I turned my head to the right, pain stabbing through my neck with the motion.

Everything felt… surreal. I had no idea where I was. No idea what had happened. No idea how I’d ended up here.

My mind was eerily blank.

The row of seats was still intact, but barely. It looked like it had been ripped straight from the plane’s floor. Three seats had remained together.

And only one, besides mine, was occupied. I blinked.

Mint-green hair moved in the wind.

For several seconds, I simply stared at the figure beside me, my thoughts sluggish and disjointed, until, finally, realization sank in.

Sariel. My employee.

And… my boyfriend-in-the-process-of-becoming-my-boyfriend? Probably. I wasn’t sure.

"Sariel?" I rasped.

My voice sounded hoarse, foreign. I swallowed, and tried again.

"Sariel?"

Was he dead? A sickening wave of fear twisted in my stomach. I reached out, fingers trembling, and pressed them against his neck.

Relief crashed over me as I felt his pulse, steady, though his skin was rather cold. I tried to shake him, but he didn’t stir.

My hands, still trembling, fumbled at my seatbelt. It was stuck for a moment before finally clicking open.

I turned fully toward Sariel, touching his jaw, and carefully tilting his head upward.

His eyes remained closed. He was breathing. There were no visible head injuries.

But… was he hurt somewhere else? I ran my hand carefully over his body. We were both still wearing our suits and shirts, not the most comfortable outfit for a long flight, but since a representative from the Japanese government was supposed to meet us at the airport, we’d wanted to make a good impression. I slipped my hand under the lapel of his jacket, feeling his heartbeat. His chest and stomach didn’t seem injured.

Only then did I lean slightly to the side, and see it.

Sariel’s foot.

Because he was taller than me, his leg must have extended lower when the seats hit the ground, and now… now his foot was twisted at a horribly unnatural angle, partially pressed into the frozen, grassy terrain beneath the row of seats.

My first instinct was to try to straighten it, but I stopped myself just in time, realizing that could make it even worse.

"Sariel!" I nearly shouted, my voice sharp with alarm.

At last, he stirred, barely.

He was coming to awareness much more slowly than I had, blinking drowsily, until suddenly, his face contorted in pain.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, his voice weak, raspy.

"Your leg…" I whispered, hating that I had to be the one to say it.

Almost reluctantly, he looked down.

"Oh, fuck," he repeated, his lips going pale, almost chalk-white. He stared at his leg, blinking, clearly in shock.

I had to help him somehow. I couldn’t imagine the pain he was in. That kind of twist must have been agonizing.

After sliding off my seat, I knelt beside him in the grass. It was dry, brittle, and cracking under my knees, the long strands stiff and frosty. At least I’d had the sense to wear relatively warm shoes.

"I’m going to try to move it, okay? Get it free—"

"No!" he gasped. I could see the fear in his eyes, the terror of what shifting his foot even slightly might do.

"Sariel, we have to get it out."

"Wait. What… what happened? Where are we?" he stammered, obviously trying to distract himself, to delay the inevitable.

"I don’t know," I admitted honestly. "But we were on the plane."

"Yes."

"Something happened, an explosion, maybe."

"Yes."

"We started falling."

"Yes."

"So how the hell…?"

"I don’t know."

"We were at cruising altitude! Winter, it’s impossible that we survived. Absolutely impossible."

I didn’t say anything. What was there to say? He was right.

"So. Where are we?"

"Sariel, I seriously don’t know. I know as much as you do."

"It’s dawn. The last time I checked, we still had more than three hours before landing."

I stayed silent. I knew he was talking to stall—to avoid the pain that was coming.

"Maybe we did die, Winter. Maybe this is the afterlife."

I let out a bitter, humorless laugh.

"I don’t think the afterlife comes with plus-ones, Sariel. Death is a solo journey."

His eyes flickered to mine. "Maybe we’re True Mates, two halves of the same soul. Maybe that’s why we ended up here together."

My chuckle sounded rather dry. "Very funny. But if we somehow survived a seven-mile fall, that alone is already beyond improbable. And right now, we have no way of confirming what actually happened. The only thing we can do is get your leg free." My voice hardened.

Sariel squeezed his eyes shut. "Okay… but how? I’m still sitting in this chair, Winter. I can’t get up with my foot stuck like this."

"I’ll have to tilt the seat back. Let’s see if I can move it, I’m not an alpha."

Judging by how solid the seat looked, and with Sariel still sitting in it, this wasn’t going to be an easy task.

"I’d help you, but, well… not with this leg," Sariel muttered glumly.

I didn’t answer. Instead, I circled around the row of seats.

On Sariel’s side, there was still one more chair attached, empty now. If I remembered correctly, an older omega had been sitting there before… but he was gone. It looked like a full section of the plane had ripped away, leaving behind only these three seats.

Sariel had been in the middle one.

I figured the best way to free his foot was to tilt the seat backward. So that’s exactly what I did. I grabbed the backrest and pulled with all my strength, bracing myself against the ground. Sariel let out a muffled groan, I knew he was fighting through the pain. But a second later, his leg was free.

Only then, did I walk around the seats.

Sariel was deathly pale. His leg was still bent at a grotesquely unnatural angle, but at least it wasn’t trapped anymore.

"Shit, that hurts," he whispered weakly. I could see how hard he was trying not to groan out loud, not to show just how much pain he was in. His lips were almost gray, his jaw clenched tight.

"We have to stabilize it somehow, Sariel."

The fog was still thick, blocking most of the view, but about thirty yards away, I spotted a cluster of stunted trees, their branches bent nearly to the ground, probably from constant wind. I made my way over and, after a brief struggle, managed to snap off a few sturdy branches without tearing up my hands too badly.

When I returned, Sariel was sitting there with a deeply miserable expression. We both knew what was coming next. I’d have to set his leg.

Unfortunately, I had close to zero medical training. I’d taken a basic first-aid course once, but they definitely hadn’t covered this kind of thing. All I could do was hope that his leg was dislocated rather than broken, if it was just a dislocation, maybe it would pop back into place. But that was wishful thinking. There was a very real chance I could make things worse.

Then again, I couldn’t just leave his leg twisted at that angle.

I pulled a pair of wired headphones from my pocket, the ones I used with my phone because I hated Bluetooth earpieces.

With these, plus the sticks, I could at least try to stabilize his leg.

"Sariel, you know what I have to do now, right?" I said carefully. "I need you to understand, I have no idea if this will actually help or if I’ll just fuck things up even more."

Sariel exhaled slowly.

"I know, Winter," he whispered. "I appreciate the honesty. But I don’t have a choice. It hurts like hell. I’d rather have it set properly… because looking at it like this? Bent? It’s really creeping me out."

"If it’s broken, I could hurt you even more."

"I know. But you have to take the risk."

I nodded and crouched beside his foot, examining his ankle. He was wearing sleek, low-cut dress shoes, the kind you’d wear to a corporate meeting. His ankle had already started to swell, but from this angle, I didn’t see any bruising… and I really didn’t want to pull his sock off to check.

Our eyes met. I had to do this quickly. No hesitation.

"One, two, three," I counted calmly, then yanked.

Sariel let out a low, strangled groan. I was honestly impressed he didn’t scream. If it had been me in his place, I wasn’t sure I’d have kept my dignity intact.

Luckily, his leg seemed to snap back into a more natural position, more or less. The good news? The skin wasn’t torn, which meant it wasn’t an open fracture.

Sariel was shaking, his eyes oddly absent. Was he about to faint?

"Alright, that was the worst part," I said, keeping my tone light. "You handled it like a pro, Sariel, you’re tough! Now all that’s left is stabilizing it."

He shut his eyes tightly, silent, obviously wrestling with the lingering pain.

I got to work securing his leg. Sariel didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, though I knew he had to be hurting. I respected him for that, for trying to keep it together.

Once I finished, I hesitated. By looking at him, it was obvious he’d withdrawn into himself, completely silent and unmoving, which was understandable after everything I’d just put him through. But I couldn’t let him stay like that.

"You know," I said, keeping my voice steady, "we need a plan!"

There had to be something to redirect the negative energy. I knew that in a situation like this, having a plan—sticking to it—could mean the difference between life and death.

I glanced around, but the thick fog still made it hard to see. I could make out maybe seventy yards around us, a vast, reddish-brown field dusted with frost and patches of snow. The ground sloped gently downward, as if we were on a low hillside.

"Search and rescue teams will definitely be here soon," I said, trying to reassure him. "The first thing we need to do is protect ourselves from the cold. That’s part one of the plan."

Sariel slowly opened his eyes. I could see him trying to focus, to push past the pain and think clearly.

"You know, the seats have little storage compartments underneath," he murmured. "They usually keep blankets in them. Perks of business class."

He was right. I knelt and checked the compartments under each chair. Sure enough, inside each one were two neatly folded blankets.

"That’s three each, not bad!" I tried to sound positive.

I spread out the blankets, draping three of them around Sariel’s shoulders. He let me do it without a word.

"There’s also the seat fabric," I added, thinking out loud, filling the heavy silence. "That plush padding could work as insulation, but without a knife, I don’t know how we’d cut it. Besides, the seat might still be useful."

Between the chairs was a sturdy plastic storage console, where we’d both stashed our carry-ons. I pulled the compartments open to search through them.

Inside were also snacks: energy bars, crackers, pretzels, a few bottles of water, and six cans of peanuts.

There was a pack of disinfectant wipes too. In Sariel’s compartment, along with his carry-on, he had a small lunchbox containing two sandwiches.

Finally, I checked the third and last cabinet. Inside, there was a toiletry bag with personal items, belonging to the old guy who sat just one seat away from me. I felt uncomfortable and left it alone for the moment.

Suddenly, the scale of the tragedy hit me: nearly one hundred and fifty people had lost their lives today. Still, there was a small glimmer of hope within me, if we survived, maybe there were others who had too?

When Sariel noticed me staring at the toiletry bag, he suddenly remembered something. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

"No signal," he said in a disappointed tone.

"That’s not surprising," I muttered. "Honestly, I doubt we landed in Japan. If we were only a few hours’ flight away from Japan, then, as far as my geography knowledge goes, we could be somewhere over the Russian part of the Aleutians, Kamchatka, or the Kuril Islands."

Sariel’s expression told me that he wasn't very knowledgeable about those regions.

"Geography was never my strong suit," he admitted.

"The Kuril Islands are to the north of Japan. The Aleutians are even farther to the north," I said with a bit of sarcasm. "Kamchatka is somewhere in between."

"So, everything’s to the north, a cold place, that’s what you’re telling me?" he asked.

"Exactly," I replied. "The real question is, how cold is it? If we’re on the Aleutians, we’re screwed. Kamchatka is a peninsula, but not much better. My only hope is that we’re on the Kurils, even if it’s the northern part. The temperature may be more bearable and less likely to fluctuate that much between night and day."

"But that would mean we’re on an island," he said, "and there’s no way to walk to any towns…"

I stared at Sariel for a moment.

"Even if we were on Kamchatka, I doubt we’d find any towns. You know that since the Plague, not all regions have been repopulated. People only live in the largest former settlements. So I don’t think it would matter anyway, no one would be out there. Only plenty of bears. We’d still have to sit tight and hope for rescue teams."

Sariel wrapped himself tighter in the blanket. "Bears, huh? So, you’re saying we should just sit here and wait?"

"For now. The next part of the plan should be scouting. I’ll try to go take a look around, okay? The fog is blocking a lot."

Sariel didn’t seem to like that idea, but I could tell he was trying to hold back his irrational fear.

"I’m not going far. I’ll be back soon," I reassured him.

I wrapped myself in the blankets, gave him a comforting smile, and began walking off in… some random direction.

After a few yards, I came to the conclusion that I should try walking down the slope. It was still a grassy, snowy meadow, rocky in places, with some clusters of shrubs and what looked like dried, brown ferns. I kept following the downward slope.

Soon, I heard it—the sound of the sea!

After a few more minutes of walking, the meadow turned into something like marshy, rocky terrain.

Then, unexpectedly, I emerged from the fog and found myself on a beach. In front of me stretched the sea. Gray waves crashed against a rocky shore made of gravelly, ashen sand, nothing else.

For a few seconds, I stood there in a strange state of disappointment. But what had I expected? It was just a rocky beach, forming a slight curve, like a bay, closed off by a small peninsula on one side and a tall cliff on the other. The water stretched as far as I could see.

The sun was probably rising on the horizon, because it was getting brighter, and the coastline was slowly emerging from the grayness. With the increasing light, I began to see more and more.

The fog behind me was slowly clearing, revealing undulating hills, cliffs, rocky grasslands, and areas tinged with scattered patches of snow. I had liked geography as a kid, enjoyed running my finger along a map and discovering new regions. But I didn’t have enough knowledge to recognize exactly where we were.

I didn’t even know if it was an island or if we were still on land, but some gut feeling told me we were definitely on an island.

The wind was cold and damp, smelling of the open sea.

Wrapped in blankets, I started heading back. What was I supposed to tell Sariel? That I reached a coastline where there was nothing but rocks and water?

It didn’t look good.

Then, I noticed something: a stream was flowing into the ocean nearby. That caught my attention, not just because it could be a potential source of fresh water, but because I had the odd impression that, in some places, there was steam rising from the surface.

I moved closer to the edge of the stream. The water seemed clear, but of course, I knew that drinking it without boiling it could lead to poisoning. I knelt down, dipped my hand into the water, and a shout of joy escaped my lips. It was warm!

"Hot springs!" I exclaimed to myself.

This discovery was truly amazing because it could mean the difference between life and death, especially if the rescue effort was delayed.

Walking along the stream’s bank, I decided to find where the stream started. As I moved forward, I kept checking the direction I was heading, trying to memorize it, so I’d know how to get back to Sariel.

The stream was about five feet wide, flowing in a rocky, narrow bed that seemed, from what I could tell, to be about halfway up my thigh deep.

I followed the stream for about five to seven minutes. The rocky terrain surrounded me on all sides, forming something like a gorge with grassy slopes rising on either side.

The water was getting warmer! Every so often, I dipped my hand in to warm up. Before long, I realized I was reaching the end of the gorge, which unexpectedly came to a halt at a steep rocky wall. At first glance, it seemed solid, but I quickly saw a dark opening, like a cave.

My heart beat faster, and I quickened my pace. The water was steaming more at this point, the mist rising above it, I tried to make out what was behind it.

Finally, I almost ran toward the entrance. It was about the height of an average adult man, plus an extra foot, so I could enter it standing up. A stream flowed out of it. I was stunned; it was even warmer inside the cave, and my pulse spiked. If it was heated by a geothermal source, or volcanic heat, there was a chance that Sariel and I had found a place to survive. I didn’t know how quickly the rescuers would arrive; sometimes the operations lasted for days.

It was dark inside, so I turned on my phone, though I figured my eyes would adjust after staying there a while. I slowly looked around. The floor was rocky and gravelly, with the stream cutting through the middle. I walked along its edge, moving deeper inside. At one point, the stream widened into a small pool, about seven feet across and maybe three feet deep. I ventured further into the cave. It was incredibly warm, though quite humid, sort of like a sauna set to a mild temperature.

I touched the walls. I had the sense that even they weren’t completely cold; they seemed to retain some heat.

After going about 20 yards into the cave, I had to crouch. The tunnel that the water flowed through narrowed more and more, so I stopped. What I had seen already was enough for me.

The cave could serve as an excellent shelter at night. The temperature was more than comfortable, very warm, even without wrapping up in blankets, and the central part of the cave was wide enough to set up a makeshift bed.

My mood shifted from grim and downhearted to something much better; it could be considered a small miracle.

I stepped out of the cave, feeling lighter, and looked around. This was where the canyon ended, but in one spot, the walls were gentle enough that I decided to climb out. It took me about a minute to do so and get to a flat, snowy-grassy area. I knew from my sense of direction that it was about a six-minute walk back to Sariel.

The fog had cleared more, and I set off toward where we had landed (fallen?), thinking about how I was going to get Sariel to the cave, and the chairs. How to drag them there? Because I doubted I could carry something so heavy.

The fog had cleared enough that I could see Sariel from a distance. I reached him in about two minutes, his face turned toward me. His wide-open eyes greeted me with a look of hope. He seemed a little better, he'd shaken off the shock of twisting his ankle, but still wasn’t comfortable, rightly so.

"I have good news and bad news," I said with a smirk.

"Start with the bad news."

"I reached the sea’s edge. There’s something like a small bay, bordered by a cape on one side and a cliff on the other. Just a regular rocky beach with gravel. I got there pretty quickly, so the chance that we’re on an island has increased by a few percent."

Sariel nodded slowly. "Is there more bad news, or are we moving on to the good stuff?"

"Here comes the good part." I sighed, sitting down next to him. "After reaching the beach, I found a stream. It caught my attention because there was steam rising from it."

"Hot springs?" Sariel’s eyebrows shot up.

"Yep."

"I’ll admit, I was quietly hoping for that after you left. The fog in that area cleared up, and look," Sariel pointed in one direction.

I turned around and suddenly saw it. About where I had come from, a little farther past the canyon, a mountain rose from the fog!

"That’s gotta be a volcano!"

For a moment, I stared at the mountain, amazed. It wasn’t huge, but it dominated the landscape. Its lower slopes were white due to snow, with reddish patches, and higher up, it turned black with only small spots of white. Near the summit, the rocks were bare, with a mist hovering above them.

"Unbelievable… This makes sense! When I was walking along the stream’s edge, I found something that could be our salvation, Sariel. A volcanic cave!"

Sariel's eyes lit up. "Really?! Wow!"

"It’s warm inside, the ground is gravelly, and if we could somehow drag the chair in there, we’d have shelter from the cold. The downside is, though, that it would make it harder for anyone to find us, as those chairs are pretty distinctive…"

Sariel tilted his head and glanced at the chair where the older omega had been sitting earlier.

"I was looking at the soft part," he said. "That… mattress. With a bit of effort, maybe we could yank it out of the chair’s plastic frame?"

"Yes! Then the chairs would stay there, and if anyone was flying overhead, like a helicopter or a drone, they’d spot them."

"In theory. But what good is that if we’re not here and there’s no sign to show where we went?" Sariel bit his lip.

Then he shot me a meaningful look.

"Maybe you’ll have to make a signal, like writing the word ‘HELP’ in the snow. Or just an H."

"That’s actually not a bad idea."

My gaze landed on the meadow. The snow was thin, just two inches of powder, but what if I stomped out long lines, cleared narrow strips of snow, and formed letters with them? I figured the letter ‘H’ would be enough.

"Definitely a good idea. But nibble on something first, or you’ll be too weak in this cold."

He had a point. I grabbed a snack bar, then got to work. I had pretty good leather boots on, but after about fifteen minutes of stomping, I realized this was probably going to be a lot less pleasant than I’d expected. Just to be safe, I made the letter at least 70 yards long and three feet wide. I wasn’t sure how visible it would be from above.

Sariel watched me for a while as I worked, then he started trying to yank the mattress out of the chairs, twisting awkwardly. I knew that every movement caused his leg to jolt with pain.

About forty minutes later, I finally finished the long strips that made the letter ‘H’. He still hadn’t made much progress with the mattress, so I went back to him.

"I checked what’s in that toiletry bag, the one from the other passenger," he said, clearing his throat. "There are a few useful things, including a painkiller blister, and, wait for it… a lighter!"

"Seriously? Good thing he was apparently smoking. When I was heading down to the beach, I saw a few clumps of low shrubs and dry grass, something like ferns, little thickets along the way. If only we could somehow rip those mattresses out?"

"They’re pretty firmly attached. Everything in airplanes is pressed and sewn tightly so that it doesn't loosen from the vibrations," Sariel muttered. "But in that pouch, I also found a nail file and a small pair of tweezers. They might come in handy for prying, there are some kinds of rivets holding it all together."

We both got to work trying to rip the mattresses out of their plastic casing. After about half an hour of picking at it, we managed to get one side out. Then it got a bit easier, though a few parts frayed a little.

When we got to the second mattress, we knew what to do, so it took a little less time, but still, we struggled with it for a while.

"Maybe it’s a good moment for a snack. I’ve got those two sandwiches… They’ll go bad if we don’t eat them, the egg especially."

"A good idea."

Sariel opened his lunchbox, and I hesitated.

"Maybe we shouldn’t overeat, just in case it takes a while for the rescuers to find us."

He stayed silent.

"But… on the other hand, we can’t let ourselves weaken or get too cold either."

We both stared at the open lunchbox. The smell of bread and eggs was mouthwatering.

"Alright!" I finally sighed. "Let’s eat the sandwiches. We’ll save the snacks and cans of peanuts for later. We’ve got six cans, after all."

We both started eating as soon as I sat next to him on the chair. The sun was up, and the fog had fully dissipated. From where we were, we could already see the sea far below, at the bottom of the gentle slope.

But there were no ships on it. I also stared at the sky, but again, I saw no drones or helicopters.

The rescue teams could have left just now, but then the question popped into my head… would they even be looking for survivors? If they knew something happened midair?

Though I didn’t voice these doubts aloud, because that would sound very pessimistic from the start, and we didn’t need any more discouragement right now.

"Why couldn’t we have crashed on a tropical island?" Sariel muttered melancholically, swallowing big pieces of bread.

"I once read a book about a guy who got stranded on a tropical island. He ate mangos and coconuts, bathed every day in warm, turquoise water on white, paradise beaches."

I sighed, eyeing my sandwich.

"Well, lucky guy. Unfortunately, that’s not an option for us." I couldn’t help but strike a bitter tone.

After we ate, we faced the issue of how to get to the cave with the mattresses. In the end, we decided that I would take them first, and then I would return for Sariel.

Back in the cave, I went to the spot where its width almost doubled, and I spread the three mattresses out, side by side on the ground. They made a pretty comfortable, wide-enough bed. Even if we had to lie curled up together, it… well, probably wouldn’t be a problem.

When I returned, Sariel had already packed up the rest of the stuff, forming a bundle by wrapping the bottles and cans with a charging cable. He had also tied together our carry-ons and the other passenger's toiletry kit.

I took the bundle in one hand, and Sariel leaned on my shoulder. I didn’t let on that the closeness of his body was affecting me in any way because these weren’t the circumstances for that. But it was. Sleek, and supple, it smelled faintly of body wash. Oh, my luck.