Page 94 of Wreckage

We returned to the plane empty-handed, our stomachs aching, our bodies weak.

Elena was awake, sitting up, her eyes searching ours.

She knew. She could see it in our faces.

“It’s not looking good,” I admitted, my voice laced with despair.

She inhaled sharply, her hands twisting in the blanket, and I knew what she was about to say before she spoke.

“No,” she whispered.

“Elena—”I started.

“No, Troy. I’d rather die th-than dothat.” She sat up straighter, but the effort alone made her tremble. Her body was failing her.

She was wasting away before our eyes. If I didn’t do something soon?—

“Then we need to start hiking,” I said, my voice firm.

Now. It would be too late if we waited any longer and kept sitting here doing nothing.

Elena shook her head violently, panic flooding her expression.

“No,” she said again, her voice stronger this time. She looked at me like I was already lost, terrified of what I was saying. “Troy, you can’t.”

Adrian sat there, silent, tense, his eyes locked on mine.

Neutral, but grim.

He didn’t say anything for a long time.

“Two more days.”

I turned on him, disbelief flaring through me. “Adrian?—”

“Two more days, Troy.” His voice was hard, his eyes cold. “Just… Two days. Please.”

I clenched my jaw, my chest rising and falling with frustration, but after a long moment, I nodded stiffly.

“Fine.”

Two days.

And then I was done waiting.

Two days later,there was still nothing.

No rescue.

No food.

No fucking rabbits.

And Elena looked worse than ever.

She barely moved now, her skin too pale, her blue eyes dull, her lips chapped and dry.

I sat at the edge of the bed, staring at her, my stomach twisting into a cold knot.

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