Page 34 of Extracted

He turned to his left. Several broken trees lay in the wake of a white plane.

Gemma shimmied out of his hold and grabbed his arm with both of her hands. A sob came from her lips. “Oh my god. Am I seeing things? Did we actually make it?”

He caught her hand and propelled them toward the aircraft. The tiny plane sure looked a helluva lot bigger sitting in the middle of the jungle than it had on the tarmac.

“Thank god. I was afraid my phone had been tossed during the crash.” He dropped her hand and approached. The wings were split, the nose smooshed against a tree. The windows crackled like spiderwebs, and leaves and debris clung to the body of the aircraft.

He approached the door and pulled it open. Seats were turned over and metal stuck out in places, but it was a solid place to take cover.

Gemma squeezed past him and rushed to her bag, which had fallen into the aisle. She whipped open the zipper, pulled out a water bottle, and chugged. Rivulets ran down her chin. She pulled the plastic bottle away, swiped her mouth, and handed it to him.

“I’ve got some. Just don’t drink it all until we find the rest of the supplies.”

She nodded but sipped again anyway.

He sidled around her slumped form and grabbed his water bottle from his bag, still tucked in the overhead compartment. He sucked back the piss-warm liquid. Water had never tasted so fucking good.

Gasping, he screwed the cap back on and tucked the bottle in his bag. He had protein bars, but first, he needed to take stock of everything that could help them. He went to the back of the plane and pushed a cargo net out of the way. Behind it were two trunks and a large duffel bag—surely Eli’s. A five-gallon jug of water was strapped to the wall. Dallas’s shoulders released a wave of tension.

If they had water, they could survive.

“What’s back here?”

Gemma stood behind him, arms crossed over her chest and some color returning to her cheeks. Her hair clung to the sides of her face, and dirt marred her otherwise smooth complexion.

“Eli’s bag,” he said, pointing. “I haven’t opened the trunks yet.”

Gemma weaved into the small space and hefted the lid on one of the trunks. She let out a loose laugh. “Oh, thank god. There’s food and tons of water.”

Dallas went for the other trunk. Inside were flares, guns, ammo, and a cooking set. “Nice.”

Gemma held up a bag of jerky. “I feel awkward saying this, but how long do we wait for Eli to return before we eat any of his food?”

He took the bag from her hands and ripped it open. “Right now, we don’t know if Eli’s alive. But we are and need to stay that way. We’ll only use what we absolutely need, and we’ll continue to look for him on our way.”

She nodded slowly, her eyes drifting to the open bag, which was releasing the intense scent of salt and meat. “And we’ll leave food behind, right? So if he happens to find the plane he’ll have enough.”

“Exactly.”

She dunked her hand into the plastic. “Oh, my god. I’ve never been so hungry in my life.” She bit into the dehydrated meat and her eyes rolled back.

He popped some in his mouth and sat on the lid of one of the trunks. Gemma pulled off her boots and curled up beside him. “Do you think he’s okay?”

Dallas tilted the bag in her direction. He shifted his gaze to the tiny cargo window and suppressed a sigh. “Even if he survived the jump, it’s unlikely he’ll survive the night. But he probably knows the jungle better than we do. All we can do is hope.”

“Should we set off a flare? I mean, I know—”

Dallas chortled. “Hell no.”

“But if there’s a search out, they’ll be looking for us anyway.”

“Right. And until we figure out who tried to kill us, we can’t trust anyone.”

“Well,” she said, taking another bite of meat. “At least we have guns now.”

“Mmm.”

She stood and opened the trunk next to them. “I’ll see what I can do to fix us dinner.”

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