Chapter 8: Emily: Death Toll

The pain in my ankle shoots up my leg, slicing at my nerve endings. Tears burn my eyes, and my heart pounds erratically. I put more of my weight on Aiden and struggle to stay on my feet as we make our way toward the group of survivors. As hard as I try not to, I can't stop from looking around. Fire, blood, death, screaming. My ears ring, and bile fills the back of my throat. I stumble.

Aiden catches me. "You okay? Want to sit?"

"No." I swallow back the urge to throw up. "I'm okay." But I'm not. All I want to do is get away from all this death and suffering. With each step I take, another memory of the crash sweeps through my mind. "This is really happening, isn't it?" I mumble, not expecting an answer.

He nods. "Unfortunately, yes."

I momentarily close my eyes, trying to block out everything around me, but its short lived.

"Hey, here's two more."

I force my eyes open to see a black-haired guy pointing at us.

"Come on. We're doing a head count, and we need everyone present. Is there anyone else with you?"

"No." I scan the group for any sign of Theodore. I'm not sure why I care so much about a strange old man. Probably because he tried to keep me calm when the plane was going down. I owe it to him to make sure he's okay.

A man in a tattered, navy blue suit stands at the front of the group. "Is this the last of them, Tom?"

"Yeah, afraid so, Jason. Our final check for survivors didn't reveal anyone else."

Considering the size of the plane, the group of survivors isn't that large. I would guess there are maybe twenty or twenty-five of us total. When I think about how packed the plane was, my stomach lurches. All those people… I shiver. Aiden tightens his arm around my waist and pulls me closer. His body is warm and comforting.

"Okay, everybody, please, quiet down." Jason claps his hands. "I know you're all scared, and a majority of you have injuries, but if we're going to make it through this, we need to calm down and work together."

His voice is soothing, and I step forward to get a look at him. Aiden is still by my side. I glance at him, grateful for his presence. Even though we only met hours prior, he's gone out of his way to find me and make sure I'm okay. One way or another, I'll repay him for that.

When the group quiets, Jason continues, "You all probably have a million questions, as do I, but I'm afraid I don't have the answers. I suggest we - "

"Who are you?" someone off to my left shouts.

"Yeah, and who put you in charge?" someone else yells.

Jason raises his hands to calm them. "I'm Pastor Jason Thompson, former Wisconsin state congressman. There's a lot of death and suffering going on right now, and I know you're all scared and confused. I am, too. But God will get us through this."

The crowd murmurs, but no one else challenges him. I huff and shake my head.

"I take it you don't believe in God?" Aiden says.

"Nope." That's a conversation I'm not having with him or anyone else for that matter. I continue to scan the group for Theodore - all to no avail. Between the dark and the way people are huddling together, it's impossible to see anyone clearly.

"We'll find him," Aiden whispers.

Sighing, I nod. I just hope when we do, it's not too late.

"I have no idea where we are, but the air marshall indicated we were attempting to land near the Aleutian Islands, which is good for us because it will make rescue easier." Jason nods at the guy standing on the outskirts of the group. "Tom?"

Hope inflates in my chest. Of course we'll be rescued. With today's technology, there are black boxes and GPS. Someone will find us, and we'll all be okay. I hold that thought close, letting it wrap around my heart.

A man steps forward, and I squint against the darkness to see him. "Tom Davis, Air Marshall." He holds his badge above his head and turns around slowly so we can all see it.

"So, help is on the way?" the woman next to me asks.

I glance over at her. She's short and chubby, her dark hair is frizzy and sticking up all over the place, and she's twisting her hands nervously. I have a sudden urge to comfort her, but what can I say?

"That is the hope," Jason says. "However, I doubt we'll see any help tonight, so I suggest we hunker down and wait for the sun to rise."

"Slow down for a second." Tom steps up to stand beside Jason. "We don't have any idea where we are, and neither does anyone else. We lost communication with ground almost thirty minutes before we went down, and the tail winds pushed us several hundred miles off course."

A scream builds inside of me, and I fight to keep it contained. No one knows where we are? How is that possible?

"But we can agree we're near the Aleutian Islands, correct?" Jason gives Tom a knowing look, as if to say please agree with me.

"Yes, but we don't know which one we're on, and if we crashed on one that's owned by Russia, then we've got bigger problems than the weather." Tom crosses his arms.

I don't know if his bluntness is refreshing or terrifying. I've always hated liars, so for that reason, I'm glad he's being brutally honest, but right now, I need to know things are going to be okay.

Murmurs and not so hushed frantic whispers spread through the group.

"Okay, settle down. Please." Tom holds his hands up in a show of surrender. "I'm not saying this to frighten anyone, or to dash anyone's hopes, but we do need to be prepared, and the only way for that to happen is for everyone to have all the information."

"What information do we need to have?" Jason asks, his voice just as soothing as before. Why isn't he panicking, too?

"I'm not sure." Tom rubs the back of his neck.

"What do you mean you're not sure?" an elderly man to my left asks.

"I mean, I don't have all the information yet, so I can't share it with you. I need to do a little investigating, but in the meantime, Jason is right. We should all just hunker down for the night and regroup in the morning."

The group erupts in more shouts, but everyone is trying to talk louder than the next person, making it impossible to understand what anyone is saying.

"Wait." I clear my throat and raise my hand, which seems to get everyone's attention. "You want us to sleep out here? Shouldn't we try to find help instead? These islands are inhabited, right?" I ask, hoping no one else hears the panic in my voice.

"We don't really have much of a choice." Jason sighs. "Look, I know this isn't ideal, but all we have to do is get through the night. Then we can regroup in the morning. Does anyone have a working cell phone?"