Читать книгу Tailspin - Elizabeth Goddard - Страница 12

THREE

“Will. I like that name.” She squeezed her eyes shut again, forcing her mind on anything but the bouncing plane. She was powerless against the jarring movement that barraged her with images of a rodeo cowboy riding a disgruntled bull. Her stomach roiling, she prayed she’d last more than the required eight seconds before being thrown.

Tossing a quick glance at Will, she hoped he hadn’t noticed her distress, though it was not likely he would have missed it. His black hair was neatly trimmed beneath his Mountain Cove Air ball cap. It looked as if he was trying to grow a beard, or he hadn’t shaved in a few days. Though he looked barely thirty—late twenties even—he had an edge to him, an aura of experience about him that made him seem older. Despite his jacket, she could tell he was strong and fit.

“If you hadn’t shown up when you did, I don’t know what I would have done. My options had run out. But in helping me, you might have gotten yourself wrapped up in my troubles.”

“And what are your troubles?”

“You know as much as I do. I don’t know why someone would want to kill me.” Sylvie wished she hadn’t said the words out loud. They disturbed her. She quickly changed the subject. Riding in the death trap of a plane was enough to handle at the moment. “Where’re you from, Will?”

“Mountain Cove.”

Sylvie couldn’t help the shiver that ran across her shoulders. Her mother would have snarled at the mention of Mountain Cove. From all she’d told Sylvie, Mountain Cove was nothing but a bunch of backwater, back-stabbing gossipers. Her mother had reason enough to feel that way, Sylvie supposed, considering she’d had a secret affair with an already married pillar of the community and the man had ended his relationship with her. Pregnant, Sylvie’s mother had been ashamed and fled Mountain Cove.

Sylvie kept to herself the fact that her father was from Mountain Cove. She’d never met him, though that would be impossible now that he was deceased. But her half siblings lived there, too. A surreal desperation flooded her—she wanted to meet the Warren siblings—her half siblings. See what they were made of. Come to her own conclusions about them, and what her real father was like and the people of Mountain Cove.

Despite all Sylvie’s mother’s negative talk about the town, she’d been on her way back to Mountain Cove for reasons unknown to Sylvie when she’d taken that last, fatal flight. But Sylvie didn’t want to share any of this with Will. She didn’t know a thing about him except that he’d saved her today.

The plane lurched to the right and Sylvie’s stomach went with it. She released a telling groan.

“It gets rough through here. Sorry.”

“So far it’s been a walk in the meadow.” Sylvie regretted her sarcasm. Will didn’t deserve it.

But he laughed. He had a sense of humor, which was more than Sylvie could say for herself. Somehow the thick timbre of his mirth relaxed her.

“You never did say where you’re from, by the way.”

No, she hadn’t. He hadn’t asked, but normal conversation would have required she reciprocate when he’d told her he was from Mountain Cove.

“The Seattle area. I teach scuba diving for commercial divers and I volunteer for search-and-rescue dive operations.”

The man next to her shifted in his seat and seemed uneasy. “My dad died in a diving accident. I haven’t gone diving since.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. My mother died in a plane crash.” She regretted her tone. She hadn’t meant it to sound as though she was in a competition.

The plane jerked with his reaction, subtle though it was. “Well, we have something in common, after all. My mother died in a plane crash, too.”

Oh, why had she revealed so much? She wasn’t sure what more she should tell him, if anything. He didn’t deserve to get mixed up in her problems. But what if he already was? Had the men who tried to kill her today paid attention to Will and his plane? Would they track him down and exact some sort of killing revenge?

She should have realized this from the beginning. The attack on her today must have to do with her mother’s plane crash. She was close to finding the crash and someone didn’t want her there. What else could it be? Or was she exhibiting the crazy imagination of someone suffering through mild hypothermia and the bends all at the same time?

A snippet of her mother’s voice mail raced across her mind.

I’m flying to Mountain Cove on a bush plane. I know what you’re thinking, but I’ll tell you more when I get there. It’s Damon... Oh... I’ve gotta go...

A rattling din—something entirely new—rose above the whir of the propellers, and a tremor joined the rattle. Was this normal? She squeezed the armrests again because there wasn’t anything else to grab. Sylvie’s warnings to her mother about flying came rushing back, swirling with images of her mother. Her relationship with Sylvie’s stepfather, Damon Masters, and the endless arguments.

Secrets.

Was her life flashing before her eyes like she’d so often heard would happen in the last few moments of life?

“What’s happening?”

When Will didn’t answer, she risked opening her eyes. His features were tight.

Okay, well, that doesn’t look good. “If I survive this, I’m never flying again. I wouldn’t be on this plane now if I had any other choice. No offense.”

“None taken.” His voice had an edge to it. “You miss out on a lot if you don’t fly. You’ll never see the world like this, see the wonders of Alaska, if you don’t get in the air and soar with the eagles.”

“Are you saying this is normal?” Her teeth clattered along with the plane.

“You just have to roll with it if you can. But if it makes you feel any better, I know what I’m doing.”

Then the plane lurched to the left, and a sound like the crack of thunder rocked the plane, vibrated through her core. “Will, I can’t die today. I have to find my mother’s plane!”

* * *

Her words held some kind of meaning for him personally, but he couldn’t figure it out when their survival was on the line, so he tucked them inside his mind to pick apart later. He’d just reassured her he was a good pilot. He needed to live up to his word.

“You’ve been honest with me to a point, so I’ll be honest with you. I think the rifleman might have done some damage to the plane. It’s taken time to work its way through, and now we’re feeling the pain of it.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’m a good pilot—a great pilot—but it never hurts to say your prayers. Get your affairs in order with God.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“I wouldn’t kid you about something so serious.” He hated to scare her, but neither could he hide the gravity of the situation.

As he struggled to bring the vibrating plane in, to find a body of water on which to land, he thought back to his mother. Was this how she’d felt when her plane was going down? She’d been a great pilot, too. The best. And yet his mother’s plane was missing. It had to have crashed somewhere. What had Sylvie said about needing to find her mother’s plane? He couldn’t think about that now—he had to focus on keeping them alive.

A friend lived within hiking distance of the strip of water he aimed for. Even if they landed safely, Sylvie wouldn’t survive without some place warm to wait until help arrived.

The plane kicked, a rumble spilling through the fuselage. His gut tensed.

Though he struggled to grip the vibrating yoke, he reached over and pressed his hand over Sylvie’s white knuckles that squeezed the armrest. Surprising him, she released her grip and held his hand, strong and tight. Maybe it had nothing at all to do with reality but more to do with looking death straight in the eyes, but Will had a sense of connection with Sylvie Masters—a complete stranger—which made no sense.

God, please let me save Sylvie. Save the day. Like her, I want to find my mother’s plane. Find the answers. Then he understood what his mind could not comprehend earlier.

God had to have brought them together for this same purpose. They couldn’t die today.

“We’re going to be okay, Sylvie. Just keep praying.”

Her reply came out in an indistinguishable murmur. Indistinguishable but understandable, all the same. She fought to hold herself together. He couldn’t blame her. He didn’t want to release her hand, finding a comfort in her grip that he hadn’t known he needed, but he pulled away and gripped the yoke.

“There, see the water? That’s all I need for a smooth landing.” He thought of his mother again. That was all she would have needed, too. He’d long begun to suspect her plane hadn’t crashed where they could find debris, but had gone down and sunk to the bottom of the ocean, a channel somewhere, just waiting to be discovered like a shipwreck full of treasure.

The thought sickened him. His stomach pitched with the plane. Sylvie hunched over her knees, covered her head as if she was prepared to crash. As if her efforts would save her.

Will couldn’t be sure they would land on the water or that he could keep his word. Rain pelted the windshield, and as comfortable with flying as any bush pilot could be, he had to admit—but only to himself—this had been the ride of his life.

He piloted the plane forward and tried again to radio for help, but they were still in no-man’s-land.

“Sylvie?”

She mumbled. Groaned. Kept her head down.

“Promise me something.”

Another groan.

“Promise me you will fly again.”

“Are you crazy?”

At least he’d gotten a coherent response from her. “Promise me.”

“You mean if we survive?”

“Yes. I mean if I land this broken hull of a plane and we climb out of it in one piece.”

“If I say yes will you try harder to land?”

The crack in her desperate voice sent him tumbling.

“Sylvie, I couldn’t try any harder, but I thought I’d take the opportunity to extract a promise from you. I wouldn’t want you to miss out on seeing the world the way I see it.”

Sylvie stared at him, wide-eyed. “Why would you care how I see the world?”

Will couldn’t say why it was important to him, but in that instant, facing a one-of-a-kind death, he knew it was. He opened his mouth to reply but the plane shuddered and plummeted. Water swallowed them, then everything went black.