No Room for Error: A Lexi Carmichael Mystery, Book Seven Read online

  “You told me to open it, so that’s what I’m doing.”

  “Why is it taking so long?”

  “That would be the ‘it’s not that simple’ part.”

  “Explain.” She scowled at me.

  “Well, I just turned it on. The case has to power up. When it’s ready, it will request my palm print. After that I’ll have to enter a series of numbers before it will actually open.”

  “I wasn’t told about the series of numbers. How long will that take?”

  “Well, it takes a minute or two to power up before it’s ready for my palm print. However, it will be an indefinite wait for the code.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because I don’t have it. The twins decided to give it to me when I land in Jakarta. Guess Oliver didn’t know about that part. See, the twins are pretty paranoid about security...and obviously for good reason. By the way, it’s wired to blow to kingdom come if anyone tries to get in any other way.” Ha! Take that, you stewardess shrew.

  She narrowed her eyes, but then seemed to come to a conclusion. “Press your palm print as soon as it warms up. We’ll worry about the code later.”

  I had to give it to her. It was the smartest move under the circumstances. The hack would take some time and might not work, but it wasn’t impossible either. I would venture a guess that they had access to hackers of impeccable quality in China who would be willing to spend an inordinate amount of time on it, especially if they were being well paid. Unfortunately, her realization of all of this meant I’d just made myself expendable. After all, she didn’t need me alive to get my palm print.

  A mechanical screech sounded outside on the wings and the plane dropped like an elevator before leveling off. Basia gasped and Wendy grabbed onto the credenza across from our seats. We all looked out the window.

  I could see a stretch of road in the distance. Correction. Road was too strong a word. It looked more like a stretch of rocks and it was barely as wide as the plane’s tires. The jungle was cleared on either side of it, but whether it would be wide enough for the plane’s wings to fit was debatable.

  “Mary, Mother of God,” Finn said grimly. “That doesn’t look like a good place to land.”

  I could feel the plane descending. I wasn’t a pilot, but if we were supposed to be landing, shouldn’t we be slowing down sometime soon?

  “Is it ready yet?” Wendy asked, snapping my attention back on the case.

  I looked down at it. The light was green, but I needed to stall. “Not yet.”

  She put the gun closer to me. “Press your hand on that bioscanner now.”

  Sighing, I pressed my hand to the screen. There was a pause and then the green light blinked several times. There was a soft whirring noise and a keypad appeared.

  “Good. Give it back.”

  I obliged, closing the case and handing it to her. She stuck it in her black bag just as the plane took a hard dip to the right.

  Off balance, I tumbled from my seat directly into Wendy. The two of us fell, rolling around the cabin like bowling pins. Given the opportunity, I fought for control of the gun. She was stronger than she looked, but one of her legs got hooked against a seat, hampering her movement. Finn leaped out of his seat faster than I could blink and knocked her unconscious with one blow to the jaw.

  The plane leveled out again. Finn gripped a corner of the seat to brace himself and held out a hand to me. I took it, standing, but my legs almost collapsed beneath me.

  I looked up at him. “Wow. That was an impressive right cut.”

  Finn put an arm around me. “Steady there. You okay?”

  “Actually, I’ve been better.”

  “Yeah, me, too. I’ve never hit a girl before. Didn’t like it much.”

  “Well, this girl appreciates it.” I rubbed my chin, where Wendy had smashed me with her elbow. “Thanks, Finn.”

  He looked around on the floor. “Where’s her gun?”

  “I don’t know. I think I knocked it out of her hand. It’s probably under one of the seats.”

  “Look!” Basia pointed out the window. “OMG! We’re landing. Now.”

  We followed her gaze. She was right. The ground was coming up fast. Too fast. The airplane had started to shudder alarmingly.

  Finn grabbed my hand, pushing me back toward our seats. “Forget the gun. Buckle in and assume crash position.”

  “Wait.” Wendy lay still on the floor. “What about her?”

  “No time to drag her to a seat and strap her in.”

  “Okay, but I have to get the case first.”

  I skidded to a stop next to her and yanked on the black bag, pulling it off over her head. Slipping it over my shoulder, I staggered back to my seat. The airplane was shaking really hard now. It was almost as if it were afraid to land.

  Finn slid into the aisle seat I’d occupied moments earlier. My hands were trembling, making it hard to fasten my seatbelt.

  “Did I mention I really hate flying?” I said.

  I glanced over at Finn, who was fastening his belt. Our eyes met in an instance of understanding that this might be the end.

  “Well, it’s a bit shorter than expected, but it’s been a bloody good ride,” he said. “No regrets, Lexi.”

  I had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the plane flight. Still he smiled at me, so I made the effort and smiled back, adding a thumbs-up for good measure.

  I bent over and put my head between my knees, closing my eyes. Finn’s hand crept into mine. I squeezed it hard. I tried to imagine the road as the pilot would see it. My brain began to calculate the speed and velocity we’d have to meet in order to land safely. I was trying to factor in wind shear when a horrible jolt jarred my teeth together. The seatbelt tightened around my waist so painfully it took my breath away.

  Touchdown.

  Basia’s scream rang in my ears.

  Boom!

  The sound of metal twisting and groaning was followed by a deafening shriek and more cracking sounds. I squeezed my eyes shut tight. I felt a huge dip to my left and then the right, my limbs jerking, my body as floppy as a rag doll. I opened my eyes to see what was happening when my forehead smashed against something hard and the world went black.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Air. I needed air.

  I inhaled, then yelped as pain shot through me. I tried to open my eyes, but my eyelids felt like they weighed a hundred pounds. I tried to remember where I was, who I was, but nothing seemed to make sense. Sleep called to me, but for some reason, I fought it. Piercing pain between my eyes. Urgency and panic swept through me although I didn’t know why.

  I took another breath and then coughed. Ouch, that hurt.

  The coughing seemed to signal something important to my brain, but the connection wasn’t complete yet. I tried to open my eyes again and was rewarded with weird, blurry images, none of which I recognized. I blinked several times, trying to focus. When I attempted to move, something held me down.

  I willed myself to proper consciousness, staying still until my brain caught up with my surroundings. The smell of fuel and burning of leather and roasting wires assaulted my nose. Panicked, I yanked my arms free but I was pinned at the waist.

  Arms. Someone’s arms were wrapped around me tightly. I pulled at the arms, realizing they had become tangled in my sweatshirt. When I got free, I rolled to my side, screaming as pain exploded again in my head.

  I waited a second, breathing hard, until the pain ebbed to a dull throb again. Tentatively, I reached out and touched the face of whoever had held onto me.

  A man.

  “Hello? Are you okay? Oh, my God.” My voice didn’t sound right. It was hoarse, barely audible. I coughed and said again, “Are you okay?”

  I shook his shoulders gently a few times, b
ut there was no movement or sound. He looked very familiar. Who was he? Where was I? Why was I having a hard time remembering?

  Wisps of smoke swirled toward us. Shafts of lights penetrated the gloom. The large, bright area was probably the best exit from the smoke and wreckage. I scooted around to his head, and groped until I found his armpits. Scooting on my bottom, I pulled him inch by agonizing inch toward the bright light.

  Thankfully nothing but his weight held us back. No debris had fallen on him, and as far as I could tell, nothing was on fire. But my strength was ebbing and I was having more trouble breathing than I could attribute just to the smoke. Debris blocked our path and I pushed it out of the way, pulling the man with me. As we got closer to the opening, I could see my surroundings much better, but the fog in my brain still wasn’t lifting.

  I recognized a seat lying on its side. It had a distinctive armrest.

  An airplane.

  Or at least what was left of one. As I reached the opening in the fuselage I was trapped in, I could see what was left. The tail had apparently split off and was listing sideways. The smoke wasn’t coming from our location, but I could see fire a hundred or so yards ahead in a treed area. A strong breeze blew it in our direction. A part of my brain registered that the front of the plane must have slid forward after breaking apart from the tail. The smoke was drifting back to us, thick and black.

  I didn’t need a degree to know I’d been in a plane crash. But the details were still residing in that special compartment of my brain where I typically saved all of my mother’s recommendations for my health and happiness.

  I knew enough about plane crashes to know that we had to get away from the wreckage. Now. Even if the tail wasn’t on fire yet, it might start at any moment. I yanked hard one more time and lifted him up over the jagged edge of the fuselage. We tumbled to the ground. Thankfully, I somehow managed the maneuver without cutting either of us on the metal. I made a mental note to include body dragging in my future exercise routines.

  The fall, however, must have shoved the knife in my forehead further into my brain. The impact knocked the breath from my lungs. I lay on my back, once again unable to move, the man equally immobile beside me.

  Between the wisps of black smoke, I saw blue sky. A gauzy white cloud drifted by. It looked like a fish swimming past.

  I closed my eyes and the world went dark again.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Tap. Tap.

  Consciousness fluttered around my thoughts like a hyperactive butterfly. I tried to hide in the comforting black, but the butterfly was insistent.

  “Lexi? Lexi, wake up.”

  My body seemed unusually heavy. Was someone sitting on me? I couldn’t see.

  I wanted to go back to sleep. Surely there were other flowers for the butterfly to pester. I tried to sink back into the black comfort when there was the voice again and another cool tap against my cheek.

  My face hurt. A lot.

  “Please, oh, God, please wake up. Lexi, I need you.”

  “Basia,” I croaked.

  “Oh, my God. My God. You’re alive.”

  My vision swam and then I saw her. Her face was a bloody mess of cuts and swollen bumps, but I recognized it.

  “When...”

  I wasn’t sure if I’d actually spoken. My brain was still trying to catch up. I saw blue sky. I was lying on my back.

  “When...did you start buying your makeup...at Frankenstein’s of Hollywood?”

  She laughed. “Oh, thank God.”

  Using considerable effort, I wiggled my arms. “Help me up.”

  Basia sat behind me, maneuvering me into a sitting position.

  I focused on what really hurt. Something wet dripped off my face. I tasted blood in my mouth. My nose and cheek were in agony. When I touched my nose and pulled my fingers back, they were covered in blood.

  I tried to clear the fog from my thoughts. What else was important?

  Finn.

  I jerked my head to the side, sending a shaft of white pain searing through my brain. I moaned and clutched my head. Still, the thought seemed to wake up my brain and put a goal to my urgency.

  “Where’s Finn?”

  “Right here next to you. He’s alive. But he hasn’t come to yet.”

  I needed to clear my head. “Are you...hurt?”

  “My left arm. Broken, maybe. I feel nauseated, too. I woke up and saw you and Finn lying there on the ground. I crawled over to you. I don’t remember the crash at all.”

  “Me neither. Is anyone else alive?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen anyone else.”

  “Can you help me up?”

  She extended her right hand and helped shoulder my weight as I braced my feet against the ground and struggled to stand. Once upright, I swayed a bit and then the world steadied. Thank goodness, my legs could hold my weight.

  Something heavy hung on my waist. When I looked down, I saw Wendy’s black sports bag tangled in my sweatshirt. I still had the titanium case. The bag was intact, but my sweatshirt had been ripped to shreds on one side. I pulled the bag off over my head, dropping it on the ground.

  Inhaling a steadying breath, I got a first good look at the entire wreckage of the plane.

  I had no idea how we’d landed, but the result wasn’t pretty. It reminded me of my one attempt at snow skiing, where I’d left a trail of items behind me on the slope when I cartwheeled to an icy landing.

  The tail section, including the two engines mounted to it, had been sheared off near where we must have touched down. Cables and wires hung loose. The engines, hanging askew from the tail, smoldered and provided the source of acrid smoke drifting our direction. A wheel that had been sheared off sat in the middle of a dirt road covered in divots and fresh trenches made from the landing. Off to the side, as though ripped from the fuselage and embedded into a ditch, lay a piece of wing. The main part of the fuselage, from which I had crawled, was crumpled next to us.

  Not far ahead, the detached cockpit had broken off. It sat at a funny angle off the road against a treed area. I could only assume low fuel reserves had contributed to the lack of fire in our section of the aircraft.

  I held my head. “Wow. I survived a plane crash. I’m pretty sure my survival is conditional, though. Mom, Dad, my brothers or Slash—take your pick—are going to kill me as soon as they learn I didn’t stay out of trouble.”

  Basia laughed, but it was more a sound of desperation than mirth.

  I tested my legs, taking one step and then another. While I still felt shaky, nothing seemed broken.

  I turned to assess Finn. He still lay on his back. His face was pale and his eyes were closed. He had a huge knot on the side of his head.

  Suddenly he opened his eyes, grabbed the front of my sweatshirt and pulled me down closer to his face.

  “Check my buns,” he said in a garbled whisper and then he fell back again.

  Basia looked at me. “What did he say?”

  My brain was slow to catch up. “I’m not sure. I think he said to...check his buns.” I started to laugh, partially with relief that he was alive and partially because the first thing we were talking about after a plane crash was Finn’s behind.

  “Maybe something’s hurting him there,” Basia offered.

  “He’s lying on his back. I don’t think it’s a good idea to roll him over and check. His back might be injured.”

  “Agreed. It’s good he came around, though.”

  Mosquitoes found us, likely after being attracted by the burning plane’s heat. I swatted them away and then gently turned Finn’s head to the side. “Finn. Finn. Can you hear me?”

  I watched carefully. There was some restless movement, but no sign he could hear me. I pulled my sweatshirt over my head, unable to stop t
he tortured shriek ripped from my throat as the shirt brushed over my forehead and nose.

  “Are you okay?” Basia asked me.

  Tears pooled in my eyes at the pain. “I’m okay. It’s my nose and possibly my cheekbones or skull. I think something is broken, fractured or all of the above.” My fingers went to my throat and I felt Elvis’s locket. It had survived, too.

  Still shaking from the pain, I folded the sweatshirt and put it under Finn’s head. “We need to find a first aid kit and fast. That fire could spread this way, so we have to be ready to move.”

  She pressed her lips together and nodded. “Where should I look?”

  “I’ll go.” I took her hand, put it on Finn’s arm. “Keep talking to him. Do what you did for me. Try to get him to come around. Promise him anything. But call for me if he stops breathing. We’ll have to perform CPR. Do you know how?”

  Her hand shook, but her voice was steady. “Yes.” She paused and then added, “Wait. Did you just say I’m supposed to promise him anything if he comes around?”

  “Yes. I learned that from observing you. Promising anything to a man without specifying what anything is seems certain to get his attention, even if he is half conscious.”

  “Wow. I may cry I’m so proud of you.”

  I rolled my eyes, but it hurt. “Ha, ha. Good to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor. I’m going to go find something to raise Finn’s legs to help prevent shock, then I’ll be right back.”

  I stood, every muscle screaming in protest. My forehead and nose throbbed so badly I could hardly think. My nose still trickled blood. Still, it was a miracle that Basia, Finn and I were still alive. I intended for all of us to stay that way. The next question was, what had happened to everyone else?

  I snagged a piece of a seat cushion and lugged it back to Basia. I put his feet on it and raising them higher than his head. “Okay, I’m going to go look around.”

  I took a few steps away so I could survey the wrecked section. Wow. I would put the odds of negotiating an asteroid belt while being chased by an imperial star cruiser better than surviving this crash. Finn, Basia and I were very lucky it hadn’t caught on fire.