The voice, again: “You sure you don’t need backup?”
“I’m sure.”
“Really? Because—”
“Just give me a fucking second, Zain,” James says, hisvoice rising, his body tensing. “She’s really badly injured.”
A pause.
I can practically hear the smile in Zain’s voice when he says, “No shit? Is that why she didn’t kill you? We all thought she was going to take off while you were climbing the plane. No way you would’ve survived that.”
James swallows, hard, and I watch the movement in his throat, my heart racing again.
Very slowly he looks up at me, searching my eyes.
“Yeah,” he says. “That’s probably why she didn’t kill me.”
“Insane move, man. Lucky it worked out.”
“Lucky,” James echoes, staring at me. A drop of rainwater releases from his hair, breaking on his cheek.
I hold my breath; I’d suddenly rather die than speak.
His eyes sweep across my face again, his jaw tightening. Gently, he says, “Can you stand up?”
“Yes,” I lie.
James has to stoop in the cabin, ducking as he offers me his good arm, and I take it, shifting my weight onto my only working leg as I use borrowed strength to rise from my seat. I make a choked sound as I accidentally tweak my broken foot, and James pales as he scans my body, his eyes widening in fear.
I follow his gaze to my bad leg, where the polyester of my costume is torn open and blood-soaked at the thigh, poorly clotted at the wound.
“You’ve been shot,” he says, stunned.
I hold steady, closing my eyes as the pain crescendos.That explains the fever. “How many times?”
“What?Rosabelle—”
“Hey, man—Um, I’m supposed to tell you that if you don’t get down here soon”—Zain laughs nervously—“uh, Warner said he’s going to shoot you through the window?”
“Great,” James says angrily. “Thanks.”
“I mean I’m sure he wasn’t serious, but—”
“I’m sure he was serious.” James cuts him off. “We’re coming down the ladder now.”
I feel, for a dizzying moment, like I’m going to faint. My hand tightens around James’s arm as I fight the compulsion, and I sense him turning to me, his voice strained with anguish. “Can you even walk?”
“Yes,” I lie, forcing my eyes open.
Zain tries again. “Hey, so, uh, quick update? He seems really, really mad—”
James glares through the open door, suddenly furious: “Tell him to wait a single fucking minute—”
A warning shot shatters what’s left of the windshield.
16
Rosabelle
