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address?”
    I repeat his address for confirmation and hang up. Time to find me a flight.
    I return to the control tower and ask for flights to McCarthy. When I find out there aren’t any for two days, I ask for an alternative.
    “You should go see if you can charter a flight since you’re in a hurry. I can give you a list if you’d like.”
    I take the list and arrange for a flight in two hours. It’s close to the sunset but it’s only a fifty minutes’ flight. Hopefully Mr. Sawyers’ money will be well spent and I will find Damon in McCarthy.
     
    I don’t know how long we’re on the air when it happens. The twin-engine aircraft I’ve charted seems like it was taken right out of a bad movie scenario and I had to close my eyes during the take-off, praying that it would stay in one piece long enough to get me to McCarthy. When the plane starts to shake and I hear the pilot cursing, I know we’re in deep shit.
    “Fuck! Hold on, Miss Hale. We’ve hit a bird. We’re going down.”
    That’s bad. Oh, that’s so bad. I have no idea what to do. We’re crashing and I really feel like I’m in a movie now. These things don’t happen in real life. They just don’t.
    “What do I do?” I yell out in terror.
    “Not much you can do, now. Put your head between your knees and pray.”
    I was never good at praying. I never believed in anything but my gut and now it has failed me. It had assured me I’d find Damon but now I’m going to die. There’s no way anyone would survive a crash landing. The last thing in my mind is him.
    I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t find you. I’m sorry I let you down.
    Then everything is made of noise and pain. And finally darkness.

Chapter Four
    F ire. Scrunched up metal. Cold. Pain. That’s all that exists in my world. Consciousness though is elusive and I find myself delving into the darkness once more.
     
    The world is shaking. No. I’m shaking. I’m cold. So cold. Where am I? What is that crisp smell? And that sound. It reminds me of burning wood. Yes. That’ it. Burning. Am I near a fireplace? If so, why do I hurt so much? Like I’m pressed against metal. So cool and hard.
     
    A strange feeling. Warmth. Safety. The pain is not gone but it’s not all I’m feeling. I slowly manage to open my eyes and what I see has me blinking again. I must be dreaming because I think I’m being carried by Bigfoot. Oh, fuck I died. I died and I’m in a strange limbo where the ferryman is the Bigfoot. Fuck it. If I’m really dead then there’s nothing wrong with going back to sleep. I’m so tired and my head hurts.
     
    I’m weirdly comfortable. I’m lying on something warm and soft. Are these… sheets? Am I on a bed? God, I must have been sleeping because I had the worst dream ever. That I was in a plane and we hit a bird and crashed. Then something was burning and I was being carried away by the Bigfoot. Only… now that I think about it, it looked more like a man. And why am I in pain?
    I peel my eyes open and my sight slowly focuses on my surroundings. Wooden walls. Wooden furniture. A cabin? Why am I in a cabin? How am I in a cabin? I was… Where was I before I went to sleep? Alaska . Memory comes back slowly. I came to Alaska. To find Damon. McCarthy . I was trying to get to McCarthy. The plane. The crash. It really happened.
    I stir, trying to lift my body. Oh my God, the pain. The pain is getting stronger when I move. My head feels like it’s being split open. And my leg burns. Oh fuck, have I broken it? No. No, I can move it. And then it hits me.
    I survived a plane crash.
    The pilot. Where is the pilot? Where am I and how did I get here? Movement on my peripheral vision catches my attention and I try to spin my head to see who’s there. A man. A man with long, wild, dark hair and an equally long, wild and dark beard. He’s wearing heavy khaki cargo pants and a gray, long-sleeved tee. So not Bigfoot. Or a Yeti for that matter.
    He’s bent over a fireplace, rearranging