Chapter 5

The adrenaline wore off around 0330, but Sam wasn't about to fall asleep. The wind had picked up outside, and every once in awhile he heard a thump or the sound of something scraping against the back wall of the cabin. There was another door on that wall, but when he investigated to see where it went, he was disappointed to find it closed off by overgrowth. It would make a quick escape difficult, but not impossible if necessary. With the forest covered in a mantle of darkness, every snap of a twig seemed louder than it was. I am not afraid. We're safe in here, as long as whatever is out there stays out there. Having a firearm would even the odds, on the off-chance that someone broke in. We did it. Who's to say that someone else wouldn't do the same?

Vivien stirred around 0420, rolled onto her side, and went back to sleep. The coals had burned down so far, he couldn't even see her anymore. It was as if he were blind it was so dark. His thoughts went back to a time in El Salvador, when he and Mike were captured by a militia. They were both thrown into separate holes, deep dark places with covers so tightly sealing out any light, he thought he would suffocate from lack of oxygen. He spent just enough time there to feel his grip on sanity loosening. Every hour, every minute, he fought off the crawling things that were real and in his mind, trying to focus on one thing. Then everything else would fade away when he thought of her. Amanda.

But eventually reality set in. She was gone, left him for another man if he read between the lines of her last letter accurately. He had to give her credit for trying to let him down easy. Still, he hoped that maybe he'd gotten it wrong, and when he returned to the States he would apply for some leave to see her and rekindle what they'd lost.

"Amanda," Sam muttered.

"Sam? Sam, wake up."

He felt his body jostling and his eyes snapped open. He found himself still in a sitting position pressed up against the cabin wall. The faint gray light of dawn filtered in through the windows. Birds sang outside. Vivian knelt before him with her big hazel eyes staring at him.

"Are you okay?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"I'm sorry, I should have been watching over you last night with that head injury."

He waved her off. "I'm fine. What head injury?"

Vivien frowned as she studied the track of dried blood and touched his forehead lightly. He winced and pulled back. "Just as I thought. I need to clean that up."

Sam let out a large sigh. "I'm fine, Viv. I was awake most of the night keeping watch. I didn't even feel tired until...oh...0400 or so."

"Well, it's about 0530 now, so you weren't out long. In a sense that's a good thing." As she spoke, she rifled through the duffel bag, came up with some supplies, and set them on top of the bag before working on him. "You got a little rest, but I didn't have to worry about you becoming unresponsive. That head injury mustn't be too bad, then." She carefully cleaned the jagged cut, secured it with a couple of butterfly bandages, and said, "I can put something over this, but you're not bleeding, so I don't really see a need for it."

"It's okay. Just...just leave it alone." He fought a wave of dizziness. Now was not the time to be fainting dead away like a damsel in distress. They had to look for survivors. He slowly inched his way up the wall until he stood on his feet.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Vivien stood before him, briefly two images that melded into one. "You're looking a little pale, Com...Sam." She smiled. "Sorry."

"It's okay. I just need to get my bearings, and then we'll see if we can find any survivors."

"You need something to eat. A couple bites of a cardboard granola bar aren't enough." She reached down, picked up a packet, and with an encouraging smile shook it in front of him. "Raisins?"

"Uh, no thanks." He wrinkled his nose and pushed away from the wall. "We'll leave our stuff here and come back for it. I found a spare key in the desk drawer last night, so we can lock it up." He looked down at her shoes. "Did you figure out how to solve that little problem?"

She quickly glanced down and back up to him. "Not really."

His mouth twisted in thought for a moment. "What's your shoe size?"

Viven's eyebrow twitched. "A ten. You're lucky you didn't ask for my dress size, buster."

Sam ignored the barb and picked up his weekender bag. Inside, he had a pair of sneakers for if and when he went casual while in DC. "Here, they're a little big, but they've got to be better than those heels."

"Thank you," Vivien said as she slipped off her shoes and slid into his. "I'll just have to tighten the laces and I should be fine. Ah yes, this will do. Looks like crap with my suit, but hey, I'm not exactly looking to win the Miss Hillbilly pageant, now am I?"

"No, I'd have to knock out some of your teeth for you to qualify."

She laughed. "I like your sense of humor, Sam."

"Thanks." He was clearly focused on their objective. "Let's go."

As they walked the path to the wreckage, Vivien walked in front of Sam and played with her hair, twisting it into a bun and securing it to her head with a plastic hair clip she dug from her purse before they left the cabin. She tugged on her skirt and walked like a woman with a purpose. Sam shifted the duffel bag on his shoulder. She had a lot of supplies and some equipment in the bag, plenty of resources if they needed them. They were getting closer. He could smell the charred remains.

"How far did we walk last night," Vivien asked, turning her head to address him.

"Watch the ground for roots, Viv. I think it was maybe a quarter mile. Not far at all."

"I see something silver through the trees!" She quickened her pace and he followed.

They soon came upon the mangled corpse of the commuter plane. The acrid smell of smoke was stronger as some of the trees still gave up whiffs of smoke. The sky overhead was gray with the promise of more rain. Vivien moved toward an unidentifiable bundle near the tail section, while Sam dropped the duffel bag and went in search of the other passengers.

"I'll check up front, since everybody else was up there."

"I think there was one guy toward the back behind us a few rows."

Sam nodded. He approached the fuselage, which had tumbled completely off the shelf during the night, crushing the wing beneath it. The cockpit cracked off like part of an egg, leaving the inside exposed. It was partially collapsed. Before he took a look inside, he mentally prepared himself for what he might find. There should be a total of seven people, six passengers and the flight attendant. He remembered seeing her strap herself into a jump seat against the cockpit wall shortly before the crash. He turned to the right, where the cockpit laid to rest, and he saw what was left of her. It was probably just as well I didn't have anything to eat yet this morning. As it was, he felt a little lightheaded, and he turned away.

His sweep of the cabin didn't take long.

"Sam? Where are you?"

There was no reason to stay, so he left the cabin and approached her. "I was checking out the interior of the fuselage."

"Well?" She looked up at him with hopeful eyes.

He shook his head. "They're all dead. Any luck?"

"No." Vivien's eyes filled with tears that she valiantly fought to keep in check. "That guy in back, well...he was...let's just say I hope he was dead before the fire."

"Hey, it's okay. At least we're still alive," Sam said and reached for her, but she pulled away, grabbed the duffel and began walking back to the cabin. He gave the crumbled mess one last look before following her. "Hey wait, maybe we should see what we can salvage from the hold."

"You go right ahead. I've seen enough for now." She stopped, looked up at the sky, and then turned to him. "I'm sorry, Sam. I don't usually get like this. So emotional." She put on a stoic face. "I've, um, been going through some stuff lately...I guess it's affecting me professionally, and I apologize for that."

The corner of Sam's mouth tipped up. "That's understandable. Considering you survived a serious plane crash, I think you have every right to be a little emotional. Me, I'm just really thankful to be alive and kickin'." He held out a hand to her. "Come on, let's get you back to the cabin, and I'll do a search of the plane, see if I can find anything for us to eat. At the very least, I can recover that humongous suitcase of yours." He chuckled.

She grinned. "You saw that, huh? Sorry, when I do a book tour, I can't pack light, much as I'd like to."

"And the Navy gives you that kind of time off to do those things?"

She shrugged. "My books are good PR, I guess, so they let me have a lot of weekend passes."

"I suppose it doesn't hurt that you're in a position that allows some freedom of movement."

"True." She stopped, sighed, and held out her hand. "Why don't you just give me the key and I'll wait at the cabin for you? Maybe I can boil some of those granola bars and make oatmeal or something."

Sam laughed. "I don't think blowing them up with C4 would help those suckers, but hey, give it a shot." He slipped the key into her hand, gave her the duffel bag, and turned back to the wreckage.