They'd spent the last two hours together in uncomfortable silence.
Luis had drifted off to sleep as Sheridan put down her magazine and closed her eyes. There were only a few hours left before they reached their joint destination, the one Sheridan thought she was heading toward alone.
It was over a week since Luis had been unable to prove his faithfulness to her, unable to prove that some impostor had conspired with her family to split them up by faking his liaison with another woman. Sheridan couldn't take it anymore, the pain was too much to bear and she had to get away, somehow.
Guess the travel agent wasn't as discreet as I thought, Sheridan grumbled inwardly, edging a bit further away from her former fiance. How he found out about her plans, how he even got on the Crane personal jet she'd probably never know and he was smart enough to wait until they were up in the air before settling in beside her on the small private plane, nearly shocking her out of her seat with surprise.
Part of her debated storming the cabin and demanding the pilot turn back, or maybe even feigning illness and forcing them to land. But they were already over the ocean and by that time, it was far too late.
Instead, she merely treated Luis to her own, special brand of Crane iciness, the silent treatment. He'd tried to talk, but after the second hour he gave and seemed content just to be beside her, even falling into a light doze, one that made him look so innocent and beautiful, Sheridan had to force her attention toward her magazine or be lost all together.
It was six more hours until they reached Tahiti, and the moment the plane landed she'd be free of him, come hell or high water.
The pilot's voice came over the PA system. "We are at a cruising altitude of fifteen-thousand thousand feet and ..."
A shudder went through the plane, cutting off the pilot's words and Luis awoke with a start. Sheridan's eyes widened and she took a deep breath, reminding herself that turbulence was the motion of a plane being forced *up,* not down.
A heartwrenching plunge in altitude, and Sheridan gave a little shriek. Oh dear God, that was no turbulence.
"What the hell's going on?" Luis muttered, grabbing her hand.
She didn't pull it away, instead she clutched him tightly as metal groaned all around them. "I ... don't know," she stammered, and screamed when a terrifying BANG exploded through the cabin. She buried her face against his shoulder and felt his arms go around her, comforting and protecting.
A hazy curtain of smoke filled the air and Sheridan felt Luis pulling a fallen oxygen mask over her face, as outside one of the engines glowed brightly with flames. Her stomach leapt into her throat and she realized numbly they were in a nose dive.
Again Luis' arms were around her and his voice was in her ear telling her how much he adored her, that she was the love of his life, that nothing mattered as long as they were together. Soft prayers in Spanish then, asking God to spare her, and Sheridan fought against the panic racing up her spine.
They ducked together, leaning forward, bracing themselves for the inevitable and the last thing they heard was the sound of the plane hitting water, just before everything went black.
Julian Crane grumbled when he heard the phone ring at the ungodly hour of three AM. He opened his eyes to peer at the woman lying next to him, as she tried to pretend she didn't hear the phone and was doing quite a bad job of it.
With an exasperated snarl, he reached over and picked up the receiver. "Hello?" he answered grouchily, annoyed beyond all measure. To hell with Rebecca, he was the one who needed his beauty rest, so this had better be something out of the ordinary.
He wasn't disappointed. He listened to the voice on the other end of the phone and bolted upright in bed, horrified. "WHAT?" he cried, ignoring Rebecca's wide eyes. "What do you mean she never arrived? Why ... she should have been there hours ago!"
Another moment of garbled replies and Julian slammed down the phone in frustration. "Damn it to hell," he muttered, running a shaking hand over his face.
"Darling, what's wrong?" asked Rebecca fearfully.
"My sister, Sheridan. Her plane never arrived in Tahiti. It's missing."
Julian swallowed hard, feeling for possibly the first time in life, frightened for his sister. There was little or no love lost between them, but in truth, the poor girl deserved better than to die in a plane crash. His eyes stung and he blinked away any ridiculous, errant tears that might have dared to fall.
"Oh darling," said Rebecca, with a strange compassion, although Julian knew in his heart of hearts, it an act of Oscar-winning proportions. "How simply dreadful."
"Yes, it is dreadful," said Julian, snatching up his robe. He angrily slid into it and proceeded to head out the door.
Rebecca gaped at him. "But darling, where are you going?"
Julian shot her a withering look. "I'm going to find my sister. Whether you or my father or anyone else likes it or not."
*~*~*~*~*~
A warm wind played over Luis face and he groaned.
His head was pounding and he didn't dare open his eyes, no not yet. In his imagination things were quite bad, a limb here, the rest of him there, everything else broken to bits. Luis knew through his police training that pain wasn't necessarily a bad thing, especially when you took into account its alternative.
Finally, he squinted through one eye, surprised to see what looked like sunlight. Well, that's better than "The Light" he thought wryly, as a hacking cough racked his lungs. The taste of salt water on his tongue and he wondered where he was. It was far too warm to be anywhere near the US and the palm tress to his left indicated that the plane's navigation system had gone terribly wrong somewhere down the line.
It was a miracle he wasn't dead, and his stomach lurched when he remembered that he hadn't been the only one on that plane. He sat up, ignoring the wrenching pain in his side. "Sheridan!" he cried. He spat a bit of sand out of his mouth and tried again. "SHERIDAN! Are you here? Is anyone here? Sheridan!"
Oh no. No, no ... dear God no. If he'd survived, she must have too. She'd been right next to him, in his arms, and he swore they were going to make it, somehow. She *must* be alive, she *had* to be.
Because if not, his being alive made no difference.
If Sheridan was dead, he was going to die right along with her, no matter what.
*~*~*~*~*~
Sheridan's head hurt. No wait, that was an understatement. Her head felt like it had been placed in a vice, kicked like a football, then shoved into a washing machine set on "spin" a few million times.
No ... hold on ... it felt worse than that. Much worse.
Memories of the crash came floating back and she vaguely remembered the chill of water against her skin, the sensation of floating, and of Luis holding onto her, telling her they were going to make it and that she just had to hang on, hang on just one minute longer.
The minute had passed and Luis ... oh dear God, Luis. Oh please, please, don't let him be dead, she thought, rising and ignoring the pain that ripped through her skull, nearly causing her to fall. She staggered a step forward, then tripped over a large lump laying on the ground.
She fought to catch her balance and looked down, horrified to see the pilot's body, dead in the sand. A shriek caught in her throat, and she looked around wildly, panicking. "LUIS!" she screamed, her vocal cords feeling as if they'd been sanded.
Oh, what if he were dead as well, she thought, as a terrible wave of guilt washed over her. What if Luis were dead and their last memories were of them fighting with one another? What if Luis had died thinking she no longer loved him when nothing further could have been from the truth?
What if he thought he'd died truly and utterly alone?
She shook her head, sobbing. No love, you won't die alone. Never.
Because I'll be there, right along with you.
Julian had been on the phone the entire night and surprise, surprise, no one would cooperate with him. He threatened, he bribed, bamboozled, then actually begged for help.
It took exactly twenty seconds before he lost his temper. "Excuse me, young man, but do you LIKE your job? Would you like to KEEP your job? Then if you do, I suggest you find me some answers and find them NOW! Yes, right now! You're supposed to look into these things!" Loudly, and his jaw clenched painfully. "No, I don't think you're doing everything you can, because if you were you useless, pathetic, excuse for a ... hello? Hello?"
Snarling, he slammed down the phone, just in time to hear his study door slam. He turned to see his former "son" standing over him, glowering at him with narrow eyes.
"Where is she?" asked Ethan, his face lined with fear and anger.
Julian shrugged. "Who?" he asked benignly, wishing a hole would swallow the infernal boy up like so many other things had disappeared in Harmony recently. Alas, his poor sister ...
"Sheridan, that's who. I heard the Crane jet didn't reach its destination." Ethan's mouth set in a hard line. "And that she was aboard it."
"How did you hear about this?"
"Word gets around, especially about Cranes. If you and Alistair had *anything* to do with this, I swear that I'll ..."
Julian cut him off with a dismissive wave. "If you'd come in a moment earlier you'd have just heard me yelling at those fools who are supposed to be looking for our plane. Idiots," he growled, then sighed. "I'm trying my best, pulling all the strings I can." He rubbed his temples with a pained expression. "If I knew what happened, I wouldn't be suffering from this infernal headache right now."
Ethan looked troubled, whether it was from his aunt being missing or Julian actually doing something about it, that was anyone's guess. "I called the rescue teams too. They say the radar records are in conflict and without them ... " A shudder passed through his slim frame. "Do ... do you think she's dead, Julian?"
"I don't know," was the stark reply. "I truly don't know."
*~*~*~*~*~*~
Luis had been walking for a while feeling more alone and frightened than he ever rememered. Trudging through the sand was hard work and his mouth was parched with thirst.
There were no signs of life, least of all Sheridan. He closed his eyes for a moment and prayed for her safety. Prayed that she was still alive and that he'd find her in one piece.
"Luis?" Familiar voice, carried over on the warm tropical breeze and he took off toward it, his heart racing with joy.
"Sheridan?"
Faster he ran, and a moment later they were in each other's arms embracing for all they were worth. She'd nearly knocked him over in her happiness, and he laughed as he buried his face in her hair, trying to stop the tears that were already streaking down his face.
"I ... I thought I'd lost you," he shuddered, squeezing tighter.
"Me too," she whispered, and suddenly the world was right again, the miserable past as far away as civilization. "Oh Luis. When I saw the pilot's body ..."
He pulled back. "The pilot's dead?"
She nodded sadly. "Yes, he was next to me on the beach. And I thought ..." She bit her lip and began to cry softly against his chest.
He rocked her in his arms, smoothing damp hair away from her forehead. "It's going to be okay, darling. Everything's going to be fine now. It's you and me, and we're going to make it through this I swear it." He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, wiping away her tears. "Okay? We're going to be all right, I promise."
"All right," she sniffled. With a heavy sigh, she looked around. "Do you have any idea where we are?"
"Geography was never my best class," he said with a grimace. "But I have a bad feeling this is one of those islands you read about in National Geographic."
"The ones with the gila monsters or the man-eating tigers?"
"Neither, I hope." He took her hand and squeezed it. "But before we try to find the wildlife, we have to find fresh water. Are you up to a little hike?"
"Yeah, I think so." She absently straightened out her ripped pantsuit. "Oh, and our luggage washed up, next to the pilot. We ... we have to bury him Luis."
"Water first," Luis insisted, leading her toward what looked like a promising grove. "He won't begrudge us a couple of hours, I think. And then I'll take care of it."
"Okay. And some wood for a fire." She smiled at him, for what seemed like the first time in weeks. "A Crane can't be caught in damp undies, you know."
"Heaven forbid," he laughed, and together they began the search for water.
*~*~*~*~*~
Sheridan has been missing for over forty-eight hours. No sign of the plane and Julian and Ethan were spending the better parts of their days meeting with investigators from the FAA, the Coast Guard and other various agencies to no avail.
The Coast Guard captain began to use ominous words, "retrieval" versus "rescue" and Ethan would have none of it. He screamed and yelled in a manner that would make even Alistair proud Julian thought with surprise, pulling the younger man away from the captain's throat.
But for all their badgering there was no denying it. The search was going nowhere fast.
And the clock was ticking.
To be continued.....