“Or what?” I throw my hands out to either side of my body. “I’m just saying that she doesn’t get an equal vote, in my opinion. She’s not one of us.”
Laney flinches.
Reed steps in again. “We’ll take a vote, and everyone gets an equal say, got it? We all matter.” His gaze passes across us all to make sure we agree. No one says anything. “Good,” he continues. “Now, who votes to stay with the plane?”
Only Laney puts up her hand.
“And to see if we can find the place I’ve seen?”
The three of us men all raise hands.
Reed claps once. “That’s decided, then. Let’s gather up as much as we can carry, and then we’ll go for help.”
Chapter Twelve
Laney
WE GATHER AS MUCH ASwe can carry, including our bags, plus the blankets and small cushions from the plane. More importantly, we bring what water and food we’re able to scavenge. I’ve tossed out one of the pairs of strappy sandals and a couple of the dresses I’ll have zero use for out here in order to make space for the more practical items of blankets and water. The lack of water and food is concerning, especially the water part. The day has grown warm, and now we have to hike, which means we’ll need the water. My throat is dry from inhaling smoke, and a headache is throbbing behind my eyes. I don’t know if it’s from when I hit my head, or if it’s because of the smoke.
I’m not happy about the decision to hike away from the plane, but I’ve been outvoted. That we’re hiking to some unknown destination with one man with an injured leg, and another who is visually impaired, seems like utter madness to me. There’s nothing I can do about it, and I’m not going to stay here alone.
Besides, the plane is still burning. This time tomorrow, there might not be anything to stay near.
Sweat prickles in my hairline and trickles down my spine. I’m losing both fluids and salt, and that isn’t a good thing. The annoying whine of an insect buzzes close to my ear, most likely attracted by the sweat, and I flap it away.
“Ready?” Reed asks.
We all nod.
I glance over at Darius. He’s put his violin in his backpack and zipped it up around the neck, so the top sticks up over his head. It means his hands are free, and he’s going to need them. This whole thing is terrifying, and I don’t even have his disability. I remember what Reed told me about how Darius always wants things placed in certain positions so he knows exactly where everything is. It’s clearly helped him navigate his way in the world, but that’s not going to help him now.
Looking at him, he doesn’t seem fazed by the thought of what lies ahead. He stands with his shoulders back, so his t-shirt, damp with sweat, clings to the muscles of his pecs and biceps. There is a determined jut to his jaw, and his chin is lifted. There’s no way I’d know he couldn’t see unless I’d been told. I hate to think of him tripping and falling, of that pride he carries being stripped away.
“This way,” Cade says and heads up the front.
Darius is directly behind him, his hand on his brother’s shoulder for guidance, while I’m behind Darius, and Reed brings up the rear.
Though I’m unsure that we’re making the right choice, I’m grateful to be leaving the crashed plane and the stink of metal and rubber and bodies burning behind us. It’s something I never want to smell again. What lies ahead is incredibly daunting. I’m also thankful I’m wearing my sneakers and not something flimsier.
The hike isn’t easy. There is no path, so we literally have to fight our way through the foliage. Cade leads the way, though his limp is obvious. He uses the large stick he’d found partially as a crutch, but also as a tool to thrash as much of a path as he can through the woods. He breaks low hanging branches with his hands and, as he walks, warns us of fallen trunks and large boulders.
At first, I think he’s doing it for my benefit, but then it dawns on me that he’s directing Darius. Darius is quite literally stepping into his brother’s footsteps.
We keep going, one foot after the other. I’m relieved to have Reed behind me. I’d have been worrying about being picked off by some wild animal otherwise. The deepness of his breathing and the crunch of his footsteps reassures me that he’s still there. I don’t risk turning around to check. If I do, I guarantee that it’ll be the time a branch will swing and hit me in the face, or I’ll end up tripping over something.
My body is battered and bruised from the plane crash. Every movement hurts, and I don’t want to add any more injuries. I’m fearful of spider or snake bites, aware that there’s no possibility of treatment way out here.
Time passes, but I have no idea how much. I’ve entered a kind of trance, just moving forward. We stop to take a drink of the small amount of water we have left and wipe the sweat from our eyes, and then keep going.
Cade draws to a halt, and Darius almost collides with his brother’s broad back.
“There’s something ahead,” Cade calls over his shoulder.
“Is it the thing Reed saw?” I ask.
“How am I supposed to know?” he snaps back at me.
But Reed shakes his head. “I don’t think so. It’s too close.”