Page 35 of Burnin' For You

She noticed then his hand on the yoke. It might have been there for a while.

They were still coming in too fast. She angled her flaps up, hoping to slow them more.

The air thundered, shook the plane as they dropped below tree level.

Fifty feet, twenty.

Oh, God, please let them live through this.

She fought to maneuver them into the center of the creek.

Ornota creek—more like a dry riverbed filled with boulders and rocks. And not too far ahead, a drop-off—who knew how far—into a gorge below.

A terrible crunch shook the plane as she landed, bounced hard, and hurtled back in the air.

“Hold on!”

And then the plane hit the ground again. She slammed the brakes, fighting as the wheels shuddered over rocks, the rutted creek bed. It ricocheted against a boulder, slamming the plane around. It skidded backwards, then jerked up again, and crashed over onto its side, the wing splintering off.

Metal screamed—or maybe that was Gilly—as the plane rolled over and over, like a ball.

Down the riverbed, toward the gorge.

And then her stomach ripped up through her as the plane dropped over the edge, falling… falling…

Chapter 4

If Reuben never stepped foot in an airplane again, it would be too soon. At least that was his second thought after waking up, still strapped in his seat, hanging upside down in the cockpit.

The first had something to do with the fact that he was alive amidst a tangle of sheered metal. The air reeked of oil, hydraulic fluid hissed out of broken hoses, the avionics panel sizzled with sparks.

They needed to get out of the plane before it went up in flames.

Except, no, they’d crashed because they’d runoutof fuel.

And just because his father had pulled him from a flaming airplane once didn’t mean that rescue would happen again.

Again.What kind of rotten luck was it for a guy to crash-land in an airplane twice in his life?

His head throbbed. He reached up and touched his forehead. It came back wet and slick.

His helmet had flown off in the crash—he must have forgotten to click his chin strap. He’d been too busy trying to figure out how to help Gilly.

He applied pressure to his wound and fought for his bearings.

The plane had landed not just upside down but with the nose up. He looked straight out at the creek bed some ten feet below.

“Gilly?” He looked for her, but her seat was empty, the buckle undone.

“I’m out here.”

He strained to follow her voice and spotted her through a massive tear in the hull behind him. Sitting on one side of the aircraft, the seats running parallel to the hull, Jed and Kate had stayed buckled in. But the impact had knocked CJ, sitting in the opposite seats, through the gaping tear of the plane.

Reuben didn’t see Hannah or Cliff.

He unbuckled, bracing himself on the ceiling, let himself fall, and crawled back to Kate, who was working her buckle, her hands shaking.

The gear had mostly been thrown from the plane, but dislodged seats lay crumbled, tumbled on top of each other, equipment spilled—Pulaskis, the saws—and parachute gear tangled through the opening.