(Serena)Sunlight.After days of white and wind, it feels like magic to see a ray of sun peeking into the side of the canvas covering the opening of the wreck.I get up and go out there. It’s beautiful. Still. Blue sky.Just as I’m looking around I hear the chopper.I give him a wave as he lands.Rick jumps out and then Sven gets out too.“We’re heading straight to Ivalo. I’ll radio ahead as soon as I can and get an ambulance on standby. How is he?”“Rough night,” I say. “In and out of consciousness.”“Shit. Might be infection.”They lift him together on a stretcher and carry him to the chopper.A mechanical click locks the stretcher in place. Rick taps the frame, checks the tie-downs with quick, neat motions, and then tilts his head toward the cabin jump seat.“Hour fifteen to Ivalo in this sunshine,” he says. “Betty’s will ping them our ETA as soon as we hit range.”“Thank you,” I say, and it isn’t nearly enough. “For everything. You didn’t have to do all the extras.”He shrugs. “We
(James)My splinted leg lies heavy under layers of thermal wraps.The drugs dull the sharpest edges, but the deep, hot ache remains, pulsing with every beat of my heart.My ribs pinch and burn when I shift. My head is stuffed with wet cotton wool.Serena’s beside me under the same pile of blankets, her shoulder pressed against mine.Every now and then I feel the brush of her arm when she moves. She smells amazing, faintly of her usual perfume. Her breathing is slow, steady, a rhythm I cling too.I close my eyes.If I can just sleep a little…I let myself drift away. But soon the memories play like a movie.Pete’s voice, clipped and firm. “James, Get out of that harness and get cold-weather gear. Now.”I’d unbuckled, fought my way to the locker, dragging the parka over my head, fumbling with gloves. Beanie.I pulled the hood up and pull the tie tight.“Harness. Immediately.”No time for leg protection so I grab the foil thermal blanket. I strap back in and tuck the blanket firmly under
(Serena)Rick’s last words echo in my head, stay warm, stay hydrated, get him to eat. Little by little. Daylight will be in six hours for around six hours.If weather is still bad, we might be here another night….and then they were gone, taking Pete’s body back with them.The storm beats at thick canvas fastened over the opening, but the insulation and heaters keep the air inside comfortable.It’s not the same as a hospital, but compared to what’s outside, it’s heaven.James is stretched out beside me, his leg splinted and padded, the foil blanket tucked snugly around him. The meds have taken the edge off his pain, and his breathing is steady.We have thermal blankets, inflatable pillows and mattresses. A stack of dehydrated foods and battery operated everything. We are fine.His eyes flicker open now and then, unfocused, before drifting shut again.I curl on my side next to him, one arm resting lightly over his chest, feeling the slow rise and fall beneath my palm. “It’s still dark,”
(Serena)For a second I think he’s gone.I scream out his name and launch myself towards him. “James!”His head is bowed, chin tucked into his chest. A dark bruise visible along his cheekbone.“Careful, don’t move him, spinal injuries.” Rick warns from behind me.I squat down in front of him. His face is white. Oh God, please… let him be alive.He’s bundled in a snow jacket, a beanie pulled low inside the hood, gloves on his hands.A foil safety blanket covers his legs, tucked in snug against his sides.“Told you he was smart. He never panicked he got the gear on.” Rick says as he kneels in front of James and feels for a pulse.“Is he…?” I can’t bring myself to say the words out loud.The James gives the flicker of his eyelids.“James! James it’s me… you’re okay. Hang on for me.”“Hey buddy. You’ve saved my neck countless times, not I can repay the favor.” Rick says as he fishes in his backpack.He pulls out a neck brace and carefully puts it in place. “This is just in case. How do yo
(Serena)“You not done before. Out there. Like this.” Sven tells me.“Neither has James.” My voice rises again. “And if he’s out there, freezing or bleeding or worse, he’s not going to see your face first. He’s going to see mine.”Rick tries to cut in. “Serena—”“No,” I snap, turning on him too. “You told me Pete landed that way to give James a chance. I am not sitting here waiting. And we’re just wasting time talking about it.”I go to head out the door.There’s no way to call Theo. No way to tell him what I’ve seen and what I’m doing.Rick grabs my arm and pulls me back.He looks me in the eye. “You understand what you might see out there?”“Yes.”“The pilot couldn’t survive that,” he says again. “So we’ll have one dead body.”“Pete deserves to be brought back and get home,” I tell him. “I’m ready.”Rick nods and heads out first. I follow and Sven is behind me.The moment I step outside, the cold bites deep, but the dogs are already barking and lunging against their traces, eager.I
(Serena)Rick’s voice cuts through the headset as we bank toward the strip.“Serena, listen to me—if we set down at that wreck without knowing what’s inside, we put ourselves in danger.”“I hate just leaving them there.”“Weather’s already whipping back up. We land, get Sven to go in from the ground.”It feels like ice water in my veins. “But if we wait too long, they might freeze to death…”“But if we can’t get back out, we freeze too. And no one close knows we are there. There will be no search party.”I close my eyes briefly knowing he’s right.James isn’t dead. He can’t be.“Betty,” he says into the comms, “you pick up any life signs in that wreck?”Her voice sounds. “Negative. This was not a situation where sensors could detect internal movement or body heat at range. The wreckage angle, environmental masking, and structural shielding prevent accurate scan results. That does not mean no one is alive.”It’s like a punch of hope and dread at the same time. “So… it’s possible?” I as