Page 60 of Flight Plan

Chapter Eighteen

Wesley

Wesley shouted to his team, alerting Samir, Leroy, and Harry that Jack was trapped inside the fallen structure as he rushed past the guests entering the dining room for dinner. Guests gasped and murmured at the idea of someone under the rubble and many asked,Who’s Jack?

Brock held his hand over his heart, his face stricken. “Todd. I’ll get Todd.”

Though Wesley heard everything around him, little penetrated. He shot through the French doors, leaving them ajar, crossed the covered veranda, and ran as fast as he could through the saturated grass. The cordovan shoes he wore soaked through in moments and would be forever ruined by the rainwater. By the time he reached the structure, his chest was tight with fear as he assessed the damage.

“Jack!” He circled the structure, wiping the rain from his eyes. “Jack!”

Samir and Leroy reached his side. Harry, moments later with his rain jacket, jogged toward them. Guests appeared in the windows and some huddled undercover on the veranda.

Leroy pointed to a beam. “We can use that for leverage. Raise the roof enough for one of us to go inside.”

Wesley nodded, thankful to have a plan. Scooting toward the best likely opening and crouching, he prepared to enter the tiny portion left standing, leaning dangerously. “Jack, I’m coming in.”

As his team worked together to raise the roof a few feet, Wesley shivered as cold fear washed down his spine. Others reached them, helping to hold the raised portion steady or hold flashlights while Wesley crawled inside.

The old wooden floor, rough with age, scraped at his palms and legs as splinters poked his skin. The shoulder of his sports jacket caught on a nail that had been dangerously close to his head. With a forceful tug, the fabric gave way, allowing him to shuffle into a wider opening, but he kept moving, mindful at how low the roof had come down.

With every flash of lightning, he got a glimpse of the small area around him, allowing him to spot Jack’s orange rain jacket.

Dread and relief grappled within him. Some part of Wesley had hoped Jack had left the tea house before it collapsed and that the kid would come running up to see what this commotion was all about. But relief that he had the boy within eyesight radiated through him.He would get Jack out.

Wesley scrambled closer, shouting to the others, “I found him.”

Jack lay still, eyes closed, breath shallow.

“I’ve got you, buddy. Hold on.”

Wesley’s mind went to dark places as he felt responsible for Jack. Earlier, Jack had sought him out, obviously upset and needing help. He’d brushed him off. He clenched his teeth as guilt clawed up his throat, threatening to choke him. If he hadn’t pressured Ava into taking this position, Jack wouldn’t have even been here at Bluff House in the first place.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he removed the boards lying across Jack’s small chest and left arm. Once free of debris, he collected the boy, cradling Jack’s head and protecting it from jutting boards and nails as he shimmied toward the opening.

The only sound louder than the rain was the whopping blades of a helicopter.

Ava made it before the ambulance!

Extracted from the rubble, Jack remained out cold. Once they were fully cleared from the building, the men lowered their burdens with a grunt.

Wesley stood, weak with uncertainty at Jack’s condition. As he cradled Jack in his arms, the men around him slapped his back at a job well done. But Wesley wasn’t a hero; he only created them in video games.

He pressed his lips to the boy’s temple, blinking back tears. Jack seemed so small and innocent, a child needing to be safeguarded. A powerful protective awakening spawned in him with a ferocity he’d never known before. Somehow this kid had become family.

Raising his gaze toward the ominous skies, Wesley watched the dragon-copter cut through the rain, all lights and sound to rival the storm. Daylight remained minimal, though the sun began to set. An eerie yellowish-gray light added to the gloom of their dire situation. The helicopter descended from the murky gray storm clouds, coming in fast, its custom colors a contrasting blur in the sky. The whipping wind added to Ava’s struggle to control the machine, as she lowered the rocking bird toward the ground.

As he waited for the safest possible moment to run toward the helicopter, he barely noticed the growing crowd on the veranda or the lights of their phones as they videoed this hairy rescue.

The distant crackle of thunder made Wesley further shelter Jack against his chest as he bade the storm to dissipate so they could get him to the hospital as fast and securely as possible. As the chopper throttled back, it swung with precision over them, and then glided toward the hard surface they’d been using as a landing pad.

Somewhere in the back of Wesley’s mind, he thought how Ava truly took on the role of his character, coming to life before his eyes, landing in the dragon-copter, a hero saving her son.

Todd reached Wesley’s side as he strode as fast as possible in the squelching grass. “I’ll take Jack,” he offered. “Ava can fly us to the nearest hospital.”

“No. I’ve got him.”

“But your party.”

Nothing mattered more to Wesley in this moment than the unconscious boy in his arms. “No. I’ll go.”

Nodding, Todd paced alongside him to the helicopter once it touched down, blades still whirling. He opened the door, assisting Wesley with his bundle into the back, and then secured them inside.

“Jack! Baby?” Ava cried hoarsely over her shoulder, gripping her hand on the seat so she could turn to see her son.

“He needs a hospital. He’s unconscious, but I don’t see any injuries on his body.”

After a brief pause, grief and pain etched on her face, she inhaled and turned back to her duty, lifting the dragon-copter off the ground and racing toward the clouds.

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