Departure by A. G. Riddle Read Free Book Online Page B

chute, to where I laid out 2D.
    â€œI agree.”
    â€œAre we ready to begin, then?” Bob’s already shuffling toward the chute. This guy is having the time of his life.
    With the help of a few passengers, we make our way into the plane, where Jillian’s sorting food in the little galley just behind the cockpit.
    â€œHow’s the food supply?” I ask.
    â€œThis is the last of it.”
    â€œOkay, we’ll figure out what to do this afternoon. Could you take two meals to the lake—one for the doctor, and one for Harper? And do you remember the three guys who were helping me on the plane last night?” She nods. “Good—can you ask them to join us here?”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œAlso, do you know the pilots’ names?” Maybe calling them by name will help. “In fact, if you have a complete crew and passenger manifest, that would be helpful.”
    Jillian tells me the pilots’ names and passes me some stapled pages, which I scan. I see my own name, then Harper Lane, and my nemesis in 2D: Grayson Shaw. Sabrina Schröder, passenger in 11G, business class. I scan a bit more and find Yul Tan, the Asian typing on his laptop last night, 10B. I glance down the aisle. He’s still there, typing away, the glowing screen lighting his gaunt face. Either that laptop gets great battery life, or he’s taken a break—which doesn’t look likely. He seems strung out, agitated. There’s something off here, but what, I don’t have a clue.
    â€œReady, Mr. Stone?” Bob asks.
    â€œYeah. And call me Nick.”
    NOTHING.
    We’ve tried noise. We’ve tried going through the first-class lavatory. We’ve been down to the ground, where the nose is dug in now—it settled some last night—and peered through the windshield in the few places where it isn’t too heavily cracked. They’re in there, three pilots, none moving. We can’t tell if they’re breathing. The five of us—Bob, the three swimmers from the lake, and me—have been at it for hours, and I’m exhausted.
    â€œI’ve gotta take a break, fellas,” I say. “Heading to the lake. Grab me if you get through.”
    â€œYou could rest here, Nick,” Bob calls, but I’m down the makeshift stairway and hiking away before he can stop me. The truth is, I want to see Harper. It’s past midday, and I haven’t been able to get her out of my mind. I’m worried, but there’s something else, too: a feeling I can’t seem to shake off. I ignore a few more calls from Bob as I disappear into the dense forest. He’s not one for letting things go.
    On the walk back to the lake, I think about why we haven’t seen any rescue personnel. Even if we’ve crashed in some remote part of England, surely the fire would show up on satellites, or helicopters could spot the column of smoke. England is bigger than it appears on a map, but it’s also a first-world country with all the kinds of technology that wouldn’t ignore a plane crashing in its borders. I make a deal with myself not to worry about it any more until tomorrow morning. Not much I can do right now anyway. Survivors—I’ll focus on them. Warmth, food, and medical care could make all the difference between life and death for a few folks.
    To my right I hear branches snapping. I turn to see 2D—Grayson Shaw—twelve feet away, holding a stick the size of a bat. He grins at me, revealing blood-covered teeth.
    I’m unarmed, too sore to run, and probably too tired to fight. This should be interesting.

CHAPTER EIGHT
Harper
    LAST NIGHT I GAVE BIRTH TO A RHINOCEROS. Not just any rhino, mind you: a pregnant rhino, with twins. And three horns. Lots of horns. I birthed a double-pregnant, triple-horned rhino. That’s what it feels like, at least.
    I’m glad I’m breathing, but I still dislike the pain every breath brings. I’m going to