Page 49 of Last Destination

But first, I had to call Bianca.

Two bars of connection appeared at the top of my screen at the top of the hill. When I searched my contacts for her number, the photo of her and I smiling into the camera popped up in vivid color. We were at the market stall where she’d purchased a pair of overpriced beach sandals. I stared at our grinning faces. My eyes had been still a bit shadowed from my binge the night before, but her eyes were alight with a joy I’d never had, and every heart string snapped in my chest cavity like a bursting rubber band.

With a shaking finger, I pressed the call button and the weight of several elephants sat on top of my ribs while I waited for her to pick up.

Six rings, each tinny echo shriller than the last. I was about to hang up, when a breathless, high-pitched feminine voice sounded through my speaker like a gunshot.

“Nicolas?”

Unbidden tears escaped from the corners of my eyes. “Hey, dear sister.” I toed the dirt with my filthy trainer with nerves entirely taking over my body. What could one possibly say in this situation? I was a true zombie coming back from the dead.

I guess that was the start — the basics. “I, um — I’m alive.”

She released a slew of curses an astronaut in space could have heard, and despite my condition, I let out a soggy bark of laughter. “Yes, I can relate. We’ve had a hell of a few days.”

“A hell of a few weeks, Nicolas! They’ve officially reported you as ‘presumed dead.’ Do you know how much I’ve sobbed over you? Now I’ve got to cry for you all over again! Where are you?”

My sister’s complaints soothed an ache in my soul I hadn’t known was there. Our reconnect before I’d flown out had brought hope to my heart, and the flame flickered to life again. It had been an age since I’d had family who truly cared what side of the ground I was on.

“We’re on the south side of Panama, I think.” A vicious mosquito took a bite out of the back of my head, and I slapped it away. “We’re just waiting for the last of our group to arrive, and we’ll be taking a bus headed toward Costa Rica.”

“Are there others?” My sister’s shriek could be heard from across the field. I dialed down the volume before answering.

“Not many. Two pilots and three passengers. And me.”

Sharper tears stung the back of my nose, but I sniffed them back. It was too soon to fall apart, and Bianca’s voice threatened to split me in two.

“Listen, I don’t know how much time I have or how long this battery will last, so I’ll make it quick for now, and call you back as soon as I’m able. Can you book us a villa close to Panama City? Big enough for six people — four bedrooms is fine.”

Scratchy movements carried over the line, and I could picture her frantically writing with the frilly pink pen she kept in her handbag.

“On it,” she declared. “What else?”

I drew in a shaky breath, unsure how to phrase the next part. We weren’t yet out of the jungle; our safety was technically still in question. But the farther away we got from the crash, the more likely Aileron would get away with the crime. It could take years for a settlement of this kind, if the Brazilian system of justice was as slow as Britain’s.

“Aileron is responsible for the crash and many other bad things. I’m going to text you some details. I need you to hire our family’s best lawyer and a private investigator, preferably someone with connections in Brazil.”

Another slew of curses. I smiled through the hot tears that continued to leak out no matter how hard I tried. I liked this version of Bianca Seymour.

“We’ll crucify the bastards.” The determination of a baron’s daughter came through the line as clear as a bell. “Nic, how did you survive? I’m thrilled to hear your voice, you have no idea, but how?”

Her last few words were distorted, crackling and tinny, abrasive.

“Marley.” The answer was simple. Without Marley West, my pilot and my love, we’d all be dead. But that was a story for another day. “I swear, you’ll get the entire sordid tale as soon as we’re safe on the other side. Can you text me the villa details when you have them? I’ll try to charge my phone again tomorrow.”

“I will,” she promised. A silence took over the line, making me think I’d lost the connection before she spoke again. “I love you, Nicolas. In case I haven’t told you properly. I love you, and we’ll get you home as soon as possible.”

“All of us,” I added quickly before she could think for one second I would leave my crew. “I love you, Bianca.” A profession for the sister I hadn’t even known I wanted. I choked on my final words, relief and grief filling my heart in equal measure. “Thank you for doing this.”

I ended the call before I inevitably disintegrated into a sopping mess on the dirty ground.

The merchant just down the lane was closing up shop for the night, shoving his wares back into his cart. I hastily wiped away my tears and strode over to him, feeling around in my pocket for my final few dollars. I slapped them on the rickety wooden counter.

“Vodka, por favor.”

He wordlessly handed me the cheap pint and went back to packing up, making my thirst none of his business. I uncapped the bottle and took a healthy pull while I returned to Ambrose. The soothing burn instantly calmed the chaos of my insides.

“I spoke with my sister,” I declared when I plopped back down beside him, relieved to see he hadn’t needed to use his hatchet on any aggressive passersby. “She’s going to book us a place to stay.”