Free Remember Me by Laura Browning Page B

had jumped off a trampoline, landing on the hard ground in the backyard. The boy had screamed bloody murder. Looking at the ankle, and the cramped space, Lucy realized there was no way to stabilize it before she moved him. And moving him was going to be no easy task if he remained unconscious. He was tall and muscular.
    She looked around for something to cushion his fall and gathered a few of the many pine boughs severed during the crash, piling them outside the door. With as much gentleness and care as she could muster, she pushed his slumped form back so she could get to his harness. This time she had to stop because her fingers were getting cold. Lucy blew on them, rubbed them together and then tried once more to unbuckle. Damn it. It was jammed. An image flashed into her mind of their first day out on the ski slopes. Her binding had jammed. In an instant, Brandon had produced a jackknife from his pocket. Would he still have it? She eased her hand into his jeans, her fingers just touching the knife. Digging a little deeper, she grasped hold and pulled it out.
    She was hoping she could use it to give her leverage. If she had to cut through the tough nylon belt, there was no telling how long it might take. Luck was with her. At the point where she feared she would snap the blade, the latch released. She had just enough time to flick the knife closed and shove it in her pocket before Brandon’s unconscious form started sliding toward her. His ankle smacked the plane and he moaned.
    “I know,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, baby, so sorry to cause you any pain. And I wish I could bind your ankle for you right now, but I have to see if I can get Mr. Hanson out. I’ll be as quick as I can.” She wasn’t sure if he could hear her, but talking to him calmed her too. The fact she’d heard nothing at all from Hanson turned her stomach, but she crawled into the cockpit anyway, pulling snow away from him.
    She freed his face and gasped. His eyes were wide and staring into nothingness. Teeth chattering and hands shaking, she made herself look for a pulse, but she found none. Oh God. Frantic and frightened, she pulled at the snow, and her hands came away bloody.
    “Hanson! Tom!” She shook him, but his head lolled, and then she uncovered the branch that had pierced his chest. There was nothing she could do for him. He was dead. Lucy’s stomach lurched. She stumbled from the cockpit, barely missing Brandon in her haste and tripping over a couple of branches. Bending over, she threw up what was left in her stomach, heaving until nothing remained. Lucy had seen a lot of things during her life people shouldn’t have to see, but never anyone dead. When she had control over her emotions and her stomach, she made herself return to the plane.
    She found the mic Brandon had used and traced the wire to the control panel. A lot of things looked smashed, but she had to give it a try. She clicked the push-to-talk button, but there was no indication anything was working. She stared at it in frustration. Weren’t these things supposed to have some sort of emergency beacon that automatically activated? Somewhere, she had read something about transponders and emergency signals, maybe in other crash stories that had made the news. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms for comfort and to ramp up her circulation.
    The radio didn’t seem to be working, so she would have to trust that some emergency locator signal was going out. She didn’t know how flight plans worked, but even if no one official was expecting them, the kid at Air Service would be. He would call the guy at Coyote Creek when they didn’t show… Someone would look for them. The question was how long until they did?
    Lucy looked around. Hanson had said they would be short of Haven Lake. If she assumed the plane was facing in the direction they had been going, then she could use it to orient. From the glow of the sun, her assumption felt valid. She was no navigator, but