Malcolm’s vision was blurry when he came to his senses. He looked around groggily, disoriented and unsure of his
surroundings. As the images of the crash came back to him, he jerked upright and was immediately overcome by a wave of dizziness. He wasn’t sure how long he had been out, but it felt like days. His throat was parched and he desperately needed water. He took a shaky step out of his seat and steadied himself as he walked out of the cockpit. He leaned against the door for a moment in exhaustion.
When he was able to move again, he stepped out of the cockpit and into the cabin of the plane. There was only one thought on his mind. Water. That was all he existed for right now. His body demanded it. The pilot’s bathroom was right next to the cockpit and he shakily stepped into the small, confined room. The crash had damaged a pipe in the room, and water dripped from the crack. He stuck his head under the droplets and allowed the life-giving liquid to trickle down his throat.
It wasn’t nearly enough, but even a few drops helped some of his strength return. He reached up and fiddled with the exposed water pipe until it broke completely, sending a gush of water out of it. Malcolm drank from it like a newborn babe in desperate need of its mother’s milk. He guzzled the water until no more came from the pipe.
He breathed deeply after the water stopped flowing down his throat, and he felt his senses return. He had to get off of the plane and plan his next move. He walked with unsteady steps towards the exit of the plane and stopped as he watched the doorway. It was painful to remember throwing Victoria out of the door, and he wondered if she was alive or not.
He shook the cobwebs from his head and began moving with determination. Malcolm pushed his head out of the exit and saw the ground was only twenty feet down. The plane had torn its way through the trees and stopped just short of impact with the ground. He felt his lips pull into a tight smile as the realization overcame him. He had defied death once again. He unleashed an exhilarated whoop as he stepped out of the plane and attempted to grab hold of the tree that his plane was wedged into.
It took effort to get a foothold on the tree, but Malcolm was able to reach the trunk from the exit door of his plane. Feeling invincible, he jumped out of the plane toward the trunk of the tree and clung to it with all his strength. The muscles in his arms strained from the effort, but Malcolm was tenacious. He slowly climbed down the tree, until he felt he was a safe enough distance to jump toward the ground without fear of injury.
Looking up, he beheld the sight of his plane hanging from the tree in a mess of twisted metal. The wings had been torn off from the impact with the trees and it looked like a crumpled steel caterpillar. He hoped someone had seen the plane go down, and would soon come looking. Unfortunately, there were signs of a huge storm ripping through the area. If there were any people nearby, they would probably be taking shelter and not exploring the woods.
Sighing, Malcolm walked for a few minutes before deciding it was best to stay near the wreckage. He knew that he was healthy and capable; he could survive in the forest forever if necessary, but that wasn’t what concerned him. He needed to save Victoria and find Claire.
“I’m coming to get you,” he said aloud with iron resolve. “Just wait for me, Victoria.”
MALCOLM WAS ENJOYING the solitude as he fished in a stream with a spear he had crafted from a broken tree branch. He had carved the tip with a rock and fire hardened it to a fine point, and he was rather proud of the device. Three days had passed since he had woken up from the crash, and he had managed to turn the catastrophe into a relaxing little camping trip.
The sun beat down on Malcolm’s bare back as he watched the fish swim upstream. The innocent creatures seemed excited to be exploring the warm water, and they swam past oblivious to his lethal intent. He watched with hawk-like precision as one swam within range of his spear. He stabbed the weapon into the water like lightning and felt the point pierce the scaly flesh of his dinner. He lifted the spear quickly and removed the fish, tossing it into his pile of half-a-dozen of its fallen comrades on the bank of the stream.
He had always loved the thrill of the hunt.
A few times, he had wondered whether he should consider the plane crash lucky. He never got a chance to take a break from his incessant work in the corporate world to just go fishing. If it weren’t for the nagging worry about Victoria in the back of his mind, he might have considered this little reprieve nothing short of paradise.
A rustling in the bushes behind him made him turn around. He held his spear up defensively, unsure of what was approaching. When he saw the characteristic hat of a tourist, a smile came to his lips. A pair of middle aged people were looking at him in wonder. The semi-bald man was wearing a University of Georgia t-shirt with the iconic Bulldogs logo printed on the red fabric. The plump older woman was clad in a flowered dress, and she looked at Malcolm with surprise.
“Are you alright, buddy?” the man asked. His voice had a distinct, thick Southern accent, leading Malcolm to believe that his shirt indicated his home state. “Ya’ll survive that nasty plane crash we saw ’bout a mile back?”
Malcolm nodded, a smile touching his lips. “No,” he said with a chuckle. “South America just has bruised-up white people randomly spear fishing in the woods. Isn’t that what you came to see?”
The plump woman chuckled and the Georgian man’s face turned red. “He’s a funny one, ain’t he?” he grumbled, turning away to hide his embarrassment.
“Don’t be rude, John. That was a jackass-stupid question,” the lady said, eyeing Malcolm curiously. “Can’t you see that this handsome fella needs our help?”
Stepping out of the river, Malcolm placed his spear near the pile of fish. These two seemed like simple, well-meaning folk. He had missed being able to have conversations with anyone other than the demons in his own mind.
“I can’t tell you how happy I am to finally run into people,” he said with relief. The round, matronly woman reminded him of an old schoolteacher, and on an impulse, he stepped forward to gather her up in an affectionate bear hug.
“Oh my,” she said with a blush, taking advantage of the opportunity to touch Malcolm’s tanned muscles. She giggled in appreciation. “I should travel to exotic places more often.”
John glowered at Malcolm. “Hey,” he said defensively. “Git yer hands off my woman!”
The plump woman pulled away from Malcolm to glare at her husband. “When was the last time you even touched me, John?” she asked insultingly, gesturing to her generous figure. “You have no clue what to do with all this womanly goodness. But I’m sure you do, don’t you stud?” she asked Malcolm suggestively.
Malcolm wasn’t sure if he should smile or feel uncomfortable as the pair began to bicker back and forth. They flung insults and harsh profanity at each other with practiced precision, clearly used to such banter. Pencil dick and hallway cunt, seemed to be popular terms of endearment between them. Malcolm could plainly see that beyond the noise, they cared deeply for one another. He wished a kind couple like this had adopted him when he was younger. “I really didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” he said in an attempt to soothe their squabble.
The woman waved a dismissive hand, her chubby cheeks flushed with anger. “Don’t be silly, handsome. My husband is just worthless!” She gazed at Malcolm with a kindly look on her sun-weathered face. “Would you like to come back with us and get yourself a proper meal?”
“Yes, please,” Malcolm said with a nod, “but first, I’m going to need a phone to let some people know I’m alive.”
“John, give him your fancy satellite phone,” she ordered snappishly.
Wrinkling his nose, John reached into his pack and retrieved a large, brick like phone from within. He shoved it at Malcolm harshly. “I want this back.”
Malcolm graciously took the device, despite the rude delivery and dialed the one man he could always rely on. As the phone rang several times, Malcolm felt dread collect in his chest-he began to worry that something had happened to his friend as well. Anxiously, he waited for Dominic to pick up, until a soft click indicated the line was open.
“Hello?”
“Dom,” Malcolm said quickly, relief washing over him. “It’s me.”
“Malcolm?” his friend asked in shock. “Is it really you, man? How the hell are you still alive?”
“It’s a long story,” he said with a tight smile.
“God damn!” Dominic exclaimed fondly. “I should have known that you were a tough son of a bitch that could survive anything. You scared the hell out of me, Malcolm. Please don’t ever do that again.” Dominic seemed to be taking a moment to catch his breath. “I’m so glad you’re alive.”
Malcolm looked at the couple as they began to argue once again and took a step away for some privacy. “You and me both, Dom,” he said fondly. “Is there any word on Victoria?” He could feel his anxiousness grip at his stomach as he waited for the answer.
“Isn’t she with you?” Dominic asked in a worried tone. “No one even knew she was on the plane.”
“She’s not,” Malcolm said with anger in his voice. “Jason-our pilot- he sold me out and tried to kill us both.”
“Jesus fuck,” Dominic said hotly. “So how did you two escape?”
“He only left one chute behind and I gave it to Victoria,” Malcolm explained. “I managed to land the plane-sort of. I’m a little banged up. Can you use the GPS in her pack to find her?”
“I can try,” Dominic said quickly. “I’ll get a rescue down there for you right away. Give me a call when you can, and I’ll keep you posted on Victoria.”
“Thanks,” Malcolm said solemnly. “But do me a favor? Let me get myself to a hospital and keep it out of the press.”
“Why?” Dominic asked curiously. “Our stocks are already falling now that our investors think you’re dead.”
“Brantford set this up, Dom,” Malcolm said in a low tone. “The longer he thinks his attempt to murder me worked, the better. The story will break that I’m alive soon enough, and our stocks will shoot back up. But let’s not tip our hand until I can make sure that Victoria is safe.”
“You’re the boss. My lips are sealed. Now go!”
“Thanks, Dominic. Keep everything running for me.”
“I always do.”
Malcolm hung up the phone and made an emergency call to a local hospital. Dominic was right. He needed to get checked out, but more importantly he needed to get back to the city as soon as possible. Thankfully, the paramedics were able to track his location from the phone.
They quickly dispatched a helicopter.
With that out of the way, he made his way back over to the still squabbling couple, handing John his phone back. “Thank you so much,” Malcolm said softly. “I thought about your offer, but I think I’d rather get back to the city as quickly as I can and get checked into a hospital.”
The woman seemed a little disappointed at the news but smiled up at him. “You take care of yourself, stud. You only get to dodge death a few times.”
“Hopefully never again,” he responded lightly.
“Maybe have a better plane next time,” John said, in an attempt to be funny.
Malcolm chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Better plane, better pilots. If either of you ever need anything, just let me know,” Malcolm said sincerely. “You can reach me at my company, Cage Pharmaceuticals. I’d give you a card, but I’m afraid they are all wet.”
“Hey! I know you. You’re the guy everyone is saying is dead on the news,” John said excitedly.
Malcolm felt a headache coming on, but smiled kindly. “Don’t believe everything you see on TV.”
John nodded. “Well, I’m glad you’re not dead. Your company saved my old lady’s life,” he said as he extended his hand. “She drives me batty, but I’m glad she isn’t dead. Even though I was looking forward to buying myself that brand new pickup truck with the insurance money,” he said, scowling at his wife. “I’ve always liked you, Mr. Cage. I was sad to hear about your accident.”
Malcolm was touched by his words and felt a smile creep up on his lips. He took John’s hand and gave it a firm shake. “I’m glad my work was able to help your family. It’s what I do this for.” He glanced at the woman who was now looking at him with admiration and rosy cheeks. “I’m sorry you needed my company’s help in the first place. You seem like a fine woman.”
“Don’t you know it,” she said with a buoyant nod. “If only this bastard knew how to take care of me. I wouldn’t need your fancy help. Still, I am happy for every day that I’m still around on this beautiful planet, even if it is with this lug, Mr. Cage. I’m just thankful I’m healthy enough to make him take me to all these wonderful places.”
Malcolm could hear the sound of the helicopter approaching from a distance. He hadn’t expected it so soon and was almost sad to part with the kindly pair. “I hope to give you a lot more time. Thanks again for finding me. I’ll remember you both.” As the helicopter grew even closer, an increasingly worried feeling kept nagging at his mind, and he was convinced that Victoria was in grave danger.
The loud beating sound of the rotors clouded his mind and replaced his thoughts with rhythmic thumping. A paramedic exited the craft and escorted Malcolm to the helicopter quickly. He hesitated a moment before stepping onto the contraption. His foot pressed against the metal landing skid to test the strength of it.
“Is everything alright?” a paramedic said with concern.
“Yes,” Malcolm said quickly as he stepped onto the helicopter.
The paramedic handed him a pair of headphones to muffle the roaring sound of helicopter as it took off in the air. Malcolm accepted them graciously, grateful for the silence that they provided him. He grabbed tightly onto a wrist strap hanging from the roof of the vessel as it lifted off the ground.
Being back in the air gave Malcolm a chilling feeling, as if his stomach was being twisted in a vice. As he looked down to the ground, memories of the crash danced through his mind and all his muscles tensed. His pride, however, refused to accept his fear, and he forced his eyes to look toward the ground in cold defiance. There was no way he was going to let a plane crash rattle him and distract him from his purpose.
“How long until we arrive?” he asked one of the pilots.
“Fifteen minutes,” the pilot responded quickly.
Malcolm continued his stoic gaze out onto the landscape as they flew over it. The knot in his stomach tightened and sweat began to form on his brow as he stared, but he refused to back down. It was as if he was challenging the Earth to a contest of wills, and he would not accept defeat. If his enemies hoped to crush him, they would fail. If they hoped to instill fear into him, they would fail. He would rise from these ashes stronger than before.
He always did.
Feeling a stiffness in his chest, he realized that for a moment he had forgotten that he needed to breathe. He let out a sigh and leaned back into the comfortable seat of the medical helicopter. He forced his diaphragm to expand and contract with air in slow, steady motions. Calm and peace began to permeate through his body and his stomach began to settle. Realizing that it wasn’t his fear of flight, but his worry for Victoria and the journey ahead that was causing his body to respond so negatively, helped his pride deal with the feelings.
Whatever it takes, Victoria. I’m coming for you.