The Crash

This is Breeze13's fan fiction. Enjoy and please rate! Sorry if there are any typos I missed.

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## Day One

Adam, Bree, and Chase hurry into Donald’s jet, wearing their mission suits and rather concerned expressions. Douglas sits in one of the seats, Leo beside him, who also wears his mission suit. They both gesture toward the cabin, where Donald is piloting. He works quickly, seeming rather tense.

  “We just got the mission alert, what’s going on?” Chase asks as he walks toward another seat, sitting down before Donald can answer. Adam and Bree join him expectantly.

  “There are three fugitives hiding out in northern Alaska. The FBI says they’re pretty dangerous and they are extremely difficult to find. They’re a group of bootleggers.” He says as he fires up the engines. “We have the general coordinates, but the range is pretty far from the nearest landing strip. Hopefully, we’ll be able to catch them before they get too far.”

  “Ha, bootleggers.” Adam chuckles. Chase rolls his eyes with irritation.

  “Bootleggers are people who make, distribute, or sell things illegally, not… you know, just never mind.” Chase tries to explain before plopping his back against the seat behind him. The jet takes off and there is a long moment of silence before Donald turns on autopilot and swivels his chair around to face the team.

  “I need you guys to be careful, alright? These people are dangerous.” Donald tells them. Douglas leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, looking down at the floor. He has an unsettled expression on his face, eyes shadowed with deep thought.

  “Bootleggers aren’t that bad.” He murmurs to himself, running his fingers through his spiky hair. Chase glances at him before turning to look out the window as if he heard nothing, though he bites his lip thoughtfully. Bree glances at both of them before taking out her phone, texting and ignoring her brothers. Adam takes a large sandwich from what should’ve been his weapon holster, smiling and savoring every bite. Leo sits silent for a moment, gazing off into space before he pulls out his ePod and earbuds. All the while, Douglas twiddles his thumbs, troubled. His eyes never leave the floor. After a long, silent flight, the inside of the plane becomes shadowed. Thunder rumbles and Chase scrambles away from the window and onto the floor, covering his ears and cringing. The entire jet shudders as the winds pick up and the turbulence is increased. Chase quickly returns to his seat, fumbling with the seatbelt this time. Douglas clutches the armrest to steady himself, closing his eyes and clenching his jaw grimly. Leo turns and glances out the window, biting his lip as he taps his fingers along the table. Bree merely glances up from her phone, oblivious, and Adam busies himself with picking crumbs from his suit.

  “Guys, you might want to hold on.” Donald calls from the cabin. “This storm wasn’t supposed to come in until next week, but-“ His voice is cut off as lightning flashes, striking the wing of the jet and sending it shaking violently. Chase releases his grasp of the seat to cover his ears against the noise and braces with his legs, bouncing in the seat as he tries to sit. Bree drops her phone, which slides to Douglas. He looks down on it accusingly before looking up at her sharply.

  “Have you been using this the whole flight?” He hisses. She nods quizzically as she steadies herself. “This signal can interrupt the jet’s navigation system, Bree!”

  “What does that mean?” She asks frantically. Suddenly, there’s an earsplitting roar behind the three as the engine explodes, sending fragments of the wing through the window and the jet toppling sideways. Adam grabs Bree’s hand and she reaches out to Chase, who is falling out of his seat. He clings with everything he has, a pained gasp escaping his lips as the jet shakes again, slamming him against the floor. Bree’s seatbelt snaps and she puts her right leg out to brace herself with a surprised gulp, still grasping Adam’s hand with all she has. Leo reaches out, holding onto the seat with his right hand and offering his left to Chase, a desperate look in his brown eyes as he stretches out to his friend.

  “Hold on!” Donald yells as the jet gives a final thrash and Chase releases his grasp, slamming against the wall with a cry of pain. Bree slips from her seat, only her right leg keeping her from falling any further. Adam leans forward in attempt to help her, but is immediately thrust back sideways against the seat with immense force that sends him wheezing. Leo, in a desperate attempt to help Chase, slides from the seat himself, wrenching his right arm and sliding back against the table, but is unable to let go. Douglas clings to his seat for dear life, but lands on the floor as well. In a matter of hardly a second, the team is in complete peril. The windows cave in, followed by freezing lake water. Donald, recovering as quickly as he can, escapes and pushes through the water to grab Leo and Bree. Adam falls forward stiffly, landing into the rapidly rising water. Chase, now hardly conscious, slips under the water just as Adam weakly pulls him away with a grunt. Douglas is nowhere to be seen. Donald looks back for a split second, seeming to consider his priorities as he holds Leo and Bree with a tight grasp. He turns back toward the door and they push their way out the emergency escape just as the water reaches the inner roof. Together, they surface, gasping for breath. Adam keeps hold of Chase, who coughs and stares blankly ahead, his soaked hair covering his forehead and some of his face. They all move clumsily to the shore and Adam releases Chase on the grass, lying in the shallow water for a moment. Bree holds Leo’s hand as she pulls herself onto the dirt, taking him up with her. Donald falls against the ground, taking in labored breaths one at a time, frame rattling.

   “Are you all… okay?” He asks, his voice raspy.

   “I hurt my knee, I can’t move it.” Bree answers.

   “I think I dislocated my shoulder…” Leo says with gritted teeth as he clutches his right shoulder, wincing. Adam still inches his way out of the water, unable to use his upper body.

   “My back really hurts.” Adam mumbles through the pain as he rolls onto his side. Donald clutches his ribs as he approaches Chase, who stares up at the sky, completely dazed. He moves Chase’s hair away from his face and lays his finger against his bloodied temple, a grim expression on his face.

   “Wait, where’s Douglas?” Bree asks as she and Leo sit upright. Donald looks back at her, then at the jet, a guilty, knowing look in his eyes. She recoils, gazing down at the ground with a shiver. They glance at Donald and he shakes his head, unable to speak.

   “I’m fine, thanks.” Douglas calls sarcastically as he swims toward the shore, his movements not making a sound. He clutches a seat cushion, a flashlight, a first aid kit, and a can of hairspray. Donald pulls him onto shore, groaning from the effort. “Am I the only one who considered the fact that we are now stranded in Alaska?”

   “You brought hairspray?” Leo asks sharply as he shifts his weight. Doulas shrugs, seeming a bit annoyed. He passes Leo and goes straight to Chase.

  “You alright?” He asks as he drags Chase to the nearest tree, leaning him against it.

   “No.” He answers slowly. “My head really hurts.”

  “Yeah,” Douglas says as he looks into Chase’s eyes. “You hit the wall pretty hard, cut your temple. I think you got a concussion. There’s not much I can do.” He says dolefully as he rummages through the first aid kit. With a moment of hesitation, he pushes Chase’s wet hair back up and merely sticks a bandage over Chase’s temple with a grimace. “I know you’re not supposed to take most painkillers after a concussion, so you’ll just have to suffer with that. Sorry, kid. Just don’t be using your bionics at all.” Donald sits by Chase, looking up at his brother thankfully. Douglas pats Chase gently on the shoulder, ignoring his brother completely, before turning to Adam, who still struggles to get completely out of the water. “Take this.” He says as he hands Adam a pill.

  “What’s this?” He asks after he pops it into his mouth.

  “Ibuprofen. It’ll take the swelling down, apparently. Just… no using your super strength, you’ll hurt yourself even more.” Douglas answers and moves on to Bree. “Looks like you hurt your knee pretty badly.” He tells her as he wraps it and hands her another pill. “It should go without saying that you shouldn’t use your super speed.”

  “Thanks, Douglas.” She says as he brushes her wet hair from her face encouragingly. She looks up at him quizzically, seeming irritated. He frowns, hands in the air as he backs away.

  “Alright, Leo.” Douglas says as he turns to him, his gaze resting on his shoulder. “I’m not liking this pattern.” He mumbles as he gives Leo the same medication and ties a makeshift sling around his arm to relieve the pressure. “No bionics for you, either.” Douglas then takes some ibuprofen for himself and places bandages on all his cuts before merely tossing the first aid kid to Donald.

 “Gee, thanks.” He mutters as he opens it.

 “And who forgot me in the jet, Donny?” Douglas snaps as he helps Adam to his feet. Leo gives Bree his left hand to pull her upright, but Chase still leans against the tree, looking around with eyes glazed. As soon as Donald finishes, he helps him up as well and they head into the dense forest. “First things first-“

  “Build a shelter, I know.” Donald interrupts as he sits Chase down on the nearest rock. Doulas begins to gather branches and take them back to where the team waits helplessly. He begins weaving every branch between two large trees.

  “No, not there, Douglas.” Donald says as he starts on a wall just behind where Douglas works. “We’re supposed to be breaking the wind, not putting up a weak little roof.”

  “Well, what’s a shelter without a roof?” Douglas growls as he continues working.

  “What’s a shelter without a wall, hmm?” Donald retorts.

  “Did you consider the weather? Oh wait, that’s what you failed to do on our last camping trip!” Douglas accuses as he weaves skillfully, picking up speed as if to race with his brother.

  “We were teenagers and we only had a tiny tent!” Donald responds, but is silenced when a snowflake blows against his cheek. He wipes it off and shakes the water from his gloved hand. “You’re right, we need a roof.”

  “And a wall.” Douglas admits as he shields himself from the bitter-cold wind. After what seems like hours of working, the shelter is finished with an elevated floor to insulate from the cold of the ground. Douglas then fetches firewood while Donald adds a few touches to their shelter. Much to Leo’s surprise, Douglas coats the wood with his hairspray, a calculating look in his eye while the others watch, puzzled. He shrugs off their stares and leads Adam over to it. “Here, use your heat vision and we’ll get this going real quick.” Adam does as told and the wood bursts into flame. With a smug smile, Douglas sprays some of the substance into his own hair and primps while heading slowly toward Donald.

  “The many uses of hairspray.” Donald sighs as he roughly takes the can from his brother. Bree limps into the shelter with assistance from Leo to escape the rapidly falling snow.

  “Leave it to you guys to find all sorts of uses for your most cherished substance.” Bree mutters bitterly as she sits down, scooting to the back to claim the corner.

  “Well, they might as well take care of their hair while they still have a little.” Leo adds on, receiving a sharp look from Douglas and Donald as he sits down and leans against the tree. Adam follows stiffly behind, struggling to bend down to get into the shelter. Douglas guides an off-balanced Chase in after them and sits down next to him, gazing toward his son with pity in his eyes as the sun sets. A whole new intense cold comes down upon them and the others find their places in the shelter before going to sleep with an exhausted silence.

  “Sorry, Chase. I don’t think you’re supposed to sleep after a bad concussion.” Douglas says through the silence. “How are you feeling now?”

  “Where can I start?” Chase murmurs, his speech slurred. “My head hurts, I can’t think, everything’s blurry, I feel sick, and I’m really tired. How do you think I’m feeling?”

  “Well, I’ll keep you company, alright?” He says as he pats Chase on the back. “Besides, someone has to keep wood on the fire.”

  “Uh huh.” Chase mutters absentmindedly as he leans against Douglas, who gently smoothes Chase’s hair back into place.

  “It’s going to be a long night.” Douglas whispers. “Should’ve grabbed the coffee, too.”

## Day Two

The rest of the team awakens to snow covering everything but the fire, which still blazes. Chase is dozing off as he continues to lean on Douglas, who stares blankly ahead, completely exhausted. Donald is the first to sit up stiffly, clutching his ribs yet again.

  “I think I broke something.” He mutters as he stands up, his boots becoming powdered by the dry snow.

  “Yeah, your jet?” Douglas replies sarcastically.

  “Well, isn’t someone especially cheerful this morning?” He retorts.

  “I’ve been up most of the night, Donny.” Douglas responds. “What do you expect, a ‘good morning, welcome to paradise’?”

  “Sorry I said anything.” Donald grumbles as he pops his back. Douglas smirks as he twiddles his thumbs silently. He soon shrugs and Chase flinches away, suddenly awake. He holds his hand to the side of his head, cringing. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

  “Do I have to answer?” Chase mutters as he rests his back against one of the trees holding up the shelter. Douglas and Donald exchange concerned looks and they both stand by the fire, gazing toward their broken team. Douglas sighs as he scrapes a handful of snow off the ground, alarming Donald.

  “Not the time, Douglas.” He criticizes.

  “I wasn’t going to throw it at you. I might now, though.” Douglas counters before turning away from him. “I was just thinking that we don’t have any water. Might as well take advantage of the fresh snow, right?”

  “Do you have a container?” Donald asks and Douglas steps toward the base of a tree, pulling a dirty, empty water bottle from the roots.

  “We do now.” He says as he examines it and dusts it off. Donald rolls his eyes as Douglas fills it completely with snow and rests it a safe distance from the fire.

  “And what’s your plan for food, little brother?” Donald asks cockily.

  “That lake might have some fish. You know, the ones you didn’t kill when you crashed your jet.” Douglas retaliates with a smug expression. Donald gives him a hard shove, only to wince and rest his hand against his ribs. He turns to Leo, who is just squeezing past Adam to get up and stretch. “Wanna come, Leo?”

  “After hearing your conversation, I think I might enjoy this.” He says as he stands next to Donald. Bree is the next to make her way out of the shelter, startling Chase and Adam on the way. She puts her feet on the ground and frowns, shoulders sagging as she remains seated.

  “Bree, Adam, Chase, you all stay here. I need one of you to keep Chase awake, alright? And keep the fire going.” Donald instructs. “Hopefully, we’ll come back with something to eat.”

  “Good, I’m starving.” Adam says as he stiffly stands up. He stretches slowly and takes a few steps forward, shoulders drawn back in discomfort. Donald smiles dolefully as he turns and leaves, Douglas and Leo trailing behind. Douglas shivers as he tromps through the snow, his breath visible in the cold. When they reach the lake, Donald gives an exasperated groan. The lake has a thin layer of ice from the shore to about seven feet out and around where the wing of the jet barely protrudes through the water.

  “If there is anything in this lake… don’t say it, Douglas!” Donald catches himself before his brother can respond. Instead, Douglas grins halfheartedly, backing up a step. “We still don’t have a way to actually catch anything.”

  “Well, you two are inventors. The solution is obvious.” Leo replies in a cheeky tone. Douglas snaps his fingers, pointing at Leo and turning back toward the trees. He snaps a long branch from a tree and takes a paperclip from his pocket. As he walks back, he removes the leaves and connecting branches with ease.

  “We have a pole and a potential hook. Then all we need is a line, sinker, and bait.” Douglas says as he begins to bend the paperclip, careful to not break it. Donald picks up a long stick from the ground and begins peeling the fibers from the bark, receiving long strands. He sits down and braids them together until he has a long, durable line. He returns to Douglas, handing him the string.

  “What about a reel?” Donald asks as he watches Douglas finish the hook, breaking the tip and leaving a sharp edge.

  “We don’t need one. Besides, we don’t have the resources or the time.” Douglas replies.

  “And how do you suppose we get the fish in without a reel?” Donald challenges.

  “‘If you want to make one, you go right ahead.” Douglas grumbles as he ties the string to the end of the branch. He removes a charm from his necklace and secures it on the line, then plucks a worm from the dirt. Just then, Donald comes back with a reel made only from sticks, along with three rings to guide the line. Douglas rolls his eyes and unties the string, compensating. They modify the pole and put the worm on the hook. As soon as it’s ready, Douglas casts out and the line catches, landing on the ice. Donald laughs and Douglas glares up at him before casting out again. With adequate placement this time, they sit on the ground and wait.

  “Let’s hope your hook doesn’t break.” Donald mutters.

  “Let’s hope your weak reel doesn’t seize up.” Douglas retorts, turning toward him.

  “At least mine isn’t made of a paperclip!” Donald responds sharply.

  “Whatever you say, Donny.” Doulas snaps.

  “Whatever you say, Dougie.” Donald counters. Leo shifts his weight and smirks. The brothers exchange glances before getting comfortable and waiting it out. Later on, the sun is low in the sky, casting shadows upon the campsite and intensifying the cold. Bree shivers and wraps her arms around her left leg, trying to keep warm. She pulls her right leg closer and cringes before extending it again. Chase sits, elbows resting on his knees and head in his hands as he absentmindedly watches what goes on around him. Adam slowly drags a small branch into the fire, groaning as he straightens his back. It’s a moment before he turns to his siblings, a look of bitter defeat on his face.

  “What if we never get out of here?” He asks quietly, breaking the silence. Bree looks up at him, a knowing frown on her face. Her despondent gaze leaves him speechless and crestfallen. It is a moment before Donald, Douglas, and Leo return, all of them seeming disappointed.

  “Well, we have dinner.” Donald tells them as he holds up a single fish. “Just one for all six of us.” Douglas nods bitterly as he holds the makeshift pole and a flat rock, which he puts between two burning pieces of wood. Donald lays their dinner upon it and watches it slowly cook. Leo sits on the other side of Chase, Douglas on the other side of Bree, and Adam sits stiffly beside Douglas.

  “Chase? Are you doing any better?” Leo asks and receives no answer. He waves his left hand in front of Chase’s face, trying to catch his attention.

  “No.” He finally replies, his voice dull.

  “How’s your head?” Douglas asks this time.

  “It hurts.” Chase answers. Bree scoots a bit closer to him and lightly side-hugs him, causing him to wince. After a moment of waiting, Donald finally serves the fish in small portions. He escapes into the shelter just as the snow starts to fall again. Adam scoots over the best he can and Donald sits next to him, trying to manage with the lack of space. They start eating, though it doesn’t take long to finish the small meal.

  “This is it?” Adam complains, his mouth full with his only dinner.

  “Yes, Adam.” Donald replies as he finishes. “It’s all we have.”

  “We’re going to starve, you know?” Bree responds sharply as she shivers. “Or we’re going to freeze to death.”

  “We’ll be fine, Bree.” Douglas says encouragingly, but he doesn’t seem to believe it himself.

  “For how long? How long can we survive like this? What about our capsules?” She asks, voice wavering. She looks up at Douglas and he puts his arm around her side, hugging her closer to him. She finally accepts his comfort as a tear rolls down her cheek. He looks up, biting his lip and tapping his foot against the snow beneath.

  “I don’t know.” He whispers as he wipes his own eyes. “But I do know that ‘girl tears’ is possibly the best ability you have.” She laughs weakly as she pulls away from him and heads for her corner.

  “Thanks, Douglas.” Bree says as she turns her head back toward him.

  “If you want, you can call me Dad.” He replies, a nearly desperate tinge to his voice. She shakes her head with a warm grin before leaning against the shelter wall.

  “Softie.” Leo mutters, smiling as he turns and scoots toward the back of the shelter. Adam is next to find his place, leaving only Donald, Douglas, and Chase, who still remains dazed. It isn’t long before Donald falls asleep, leaning against the tree in an undignified manner. Douglas, just realizing this, groans and pats Chase, who flinches, startled.

  “This just isn’t right.” Douglas mutters. “Would it kill him to give me ten minutes of sleep?”

  “Guess so.” Chase replies absentmindedly as he blinks slowly, leaning on the other tree holding up the shelter. Douglas keeps an eye on him as he watches the snow fall and piles more branches onto the fire, taking a drink of water before returning to his post and struggling to stay awake.

## (After midnight) Day Three

The storm worsens, the snowflakes becoming larger and the wind becoming stronger, the cold of the night intensifying. It is eerily silent, the type only deep cold can bring. Douglas sits and twiddles his thumbs, pondering. His thumbs stop and he freezes before glancing around. Hushed voices break the silence, though they sound more like the wind, along with muffled tromping through the deep snow. Douglas stiffens as he tries to identify where the sounds are coming from. Donald’s eyes open as he hears it too. Adam, Bree, Leo, and even Chase become alert, but not one of them moves a muscle. Three figures appear from the trees not far away. Two are rather large men, one taller than the other and both with thick jackets and satchels. Between them and slightly ahead is a sleeker, smaller figure, the only one not wearing a jacket, but holding it, folded, instead. They step into the limelight and the smallest is revealed first. The young girl stands with her legs braced slightly apart, her knee-high boots powdered in snow and jeans torn jaggedly just above her knee, cuts found on the unprotected skin. Her shirt is a dark teal camouflage with long, frayed sleeves and is covered in snow. Her thick blond hair is long, almost to her hips, and she wears a necklace, along with a charm bracelet wrapped multiple times around her wrist. She looks at Douglas, contemplating. It’s a moment of hesitation before she approaches and bends down a bit to look at him with intense, searching green eyes that seem to miss nothing. She looks into his and he leans a bit away from her, uncertain.

  “Was that your plane that crashed?” She asks quietly, glancing at the team before returning to his eyes. Her voice was not the one of those heard.

  “Yeah, uh, it was.” He tells her cautiously.

  “So you’re just stranded out here?” She inquires, though her voice has an undertone that makes Douglas visibly suspicious. He nods, watching her carefully. “We are too. Well, kind of.”

  “Just kind of?” Douglas dares to persist. She shifts her weight and glances as Douglas’ necklace. Hers is matching, but has three nearly identical charms. Her steady gaze falters for a moment as she touches her own charms, which dangle from a thin silver chain. Donald finally gathers the courage to sit up, on the edge of the platform as he watches the girl. Even Chase stares at her with confusion, shaking his head and looking again with a bewildered expression.

  “What are you doing in Alaska?” She asks, readily changing the subject.

  “Looking for criminals.” Donald answers this time, tone coated with suspicion. The girl shifts her gaze to him, eyebrows raised in a knowing fashion. She doesn’t care to hide it. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen anything?”

  “The proper term is bootleggers.” She replies sharply, voice edged with audacity. She glances at him, but her gaze is drawn away toward Chase, eyes flicking toward him with concerned interest. Donald opens his mouth to respond, but she pays no attention. She approaches Chase, much to his delayed surprise. Before he can react, she puts her hand lightly on his cheekbone as she brushes his hair away from his temple. He stares at her, petrified. She takes in a breath and peers at his eyes, a look of hardened concern on her face. “Risky, leaving a concussion untreated like this.”

 “Well-“ Donald tries to reply.

 “I’ve treated twenty concussions before.” She interrupts. “Nine of them were mine. Not fun when there’s blood, you’re on the run, and have nothing but manzanita leaves to stop the bleeding.”

 “Manzanita leaves?” Leo questions from behind.

 “Yes, they have their own medical properties, like just about everything else.” She answers before turning to Douglas. “I could help him, if you like.”

 “By all means, thank you.” Douglas answers gratefully, shooting Donald a warning look as he tries to object. The girl sits next to Chase, taking a flashlight from her belt, next to her loaded gun holster. She shines the light through his eyes and nods, her expression softening slightly, seeming almost sympathetic.

 “What’s your first and last name?” She asks.

 “Chase Davenport.” He answers quizzically and she glances at Donald, who nods. She ponders for a moment before turning back to him.

 “Oh, a Davenport, huh? Nice name, first and last. I’m not a fan of Davenport Industries, but I suppose they make a decent computer. So tell me what happened, Chase.” She says as she combs his hair out of the way and removes the bandage from his temple. She takes a new one from her pocket and replaces it while he speaks. She is well aware of Donald’s glares landing on her back.

 “I just was sitting by the window, thunder just about blasted my eardrums, I fell, got back in my seat, then the jet started thrashing and I lost my grip, started sliding down the isle. Next thing I know, I’m colliding with a wall and going underwater.” He explains briefly, seeming puzzled that she’d ask him such questions.

 “Sounds like an adventure.” She jokes dryly. “Alright, what’s your full list of symptoms?” Chase hesitates before answering, seeming a bit delayed in thought.

 “Dizziness, headache, I can’t think, I’m tired, and and I… stopped feeling sick.” He replies uncertainly.

 “You’ve been awake all night, haven’t you?” She asks. He nods and meets her gaze again. She exhales sharply, indignant. “Well, that would be very misguided information, but I’m certain none of you know much about medical treatment, so I can’t say I’m surprised.” She pulls a bottle from another pocket and hands him a pill. “Tylenol. Approved for concussions and does an adequate job of relieving pain.” She takes her canteen from a strap around her shoulder, handing it to him and standing up. The last thing she does is scoop up a large ball of snow and hold it lightly against Chase’s temple before he takes it from her gratefully. She nods and stands up, gazing upon the team. Her eyes rest on Leo’s sling and she snorts, gesturing for him to come outside. He complies nervously, standing before her with his arm out. She pulls off the sling and holds onto his elbow.

  “So, you’re-“ Leo’s comment is cut short with a high-pitched shriek as the girl resets his arm in one quick motion. He plops on the platform, cringing. “A very harsh young lady.” His voice is pressing as he finishes what he was saying, edged with annoyance and pain.

  “You’ll be fine.” She tells him as she puts the sling back on and pats him on the back. She glances under the platform and sees the first aid kit, taking out the Ibuprofen with a raised eyebrow. She hands him one of the pills and heads toward Douglas. “I don’t suppose the rest of your team needs medical attention.”

 “If you’d be willing to help us, then yes.” Douglas answers carefully. She tilts her head, shrugging before looking at their team. “Bree hurt her knee, Adam hurt his back, and my brother, Donald, thinks he broke some ribs.”

 “And you?” She asks, gaze falling on the large bandages on his arm.

 “I’m fine, thank you.” He replies and taps Donald’s shoulder, gesturing toward the girl. He looks up at her with hostility, crossing his arms and wincing.

 “Well, there’s nothing I can do for broken ribs. I know, I’ve tried.” She tells him, looking toward Adam. “There might be something I can do for you, though.”

 “Is this gonna hurt?” Adam grumbles as he struggles upright. She helps him from the shelter and turns him around.

 “Probably.” She says as she runs her hands along his vertebrae, pushing harder and harder as she rolls her knuckles along his muscles. Adam winces and with another moment of pain, the girl sits him back on the platform, his arm over her shoulder as she sits next to him for support. He stretches, clenching his jaw before exhaling with relief. He smiles and pats her hard on the back, accidentally pushing her slightly forward. She merely closes her eyes and puts her leg out in front of her, a bit startled, but not at all surprised. One of the men stands, his amber eyes alert as he pushes his dark hair from his chiseled face. His other hand rests on his gun holster as he takes a step forward. The girl glances at him and he immediately looks away, crossing his arms instead. “Excuse my partner, he knows better than to even touch that gun of his.”

 “I’m not-“ He tries to reply, voice deep and smooth, though rather annoyed. The girl spins to look at him, eyes colder than ice as she stands up. He lowers his head this time, raising his hands and backing up a couple steps.

 “Alright… Bree, is it?” The girl asks, her expression friendly again as she glances toward her. Bree looks at her nervously and scoots to the edge.

 “I’m afraid to say yes.” She replies.

 “Why the fear?” The girl asks as she unwraps her knee. “Your knee buckled, that’s all. Just a bit of swelling this time.”

 “That’s not what I meant.” Bree mutters and meets the girl’s eyes.

 “Then what did you mean?” She asks as she places snow in the wrap and folds it over. She rewraps Bree’s knee and stands up. Her eyes say that she already knows.

 “Well, you are a criminal. You people are kind of known for being ruthless.” Bree answers shyly. “I’m sorry if that offended you.” The girl looks toward Donald this time and her face softens.

 “No, I understand. Stereotyping isn’t always accurate, but people tend to believe it. Most think we’re heartless, greedy individuals who will do anything to get what we want. I’m sure you understand, considering you three were one of the biggest news stories in history.” She explains. The team looks at her guiltily and she shrugs, shaking the snowflakes from her shoulders and hair. Thunder rumbles in the distance, catching her attention. Lightning suddenly flashes in the clouds and she looks up. “Lightning in a snowstorm; rare. Meteorologists would pay to see this.” She murmurs in fascination. Thunder crackles and she inhales deeply, eyes closed for a moment, as if savoring it.

 “You know…” Donald says hesitantly. “The weather’s getting pretty bad. I don’t suppose you’d like to stay until it passes?”

 “Really?” She asks and Donald nods. For the first time, she smiles. “That would be great, thank you.” She gestures to her team and they approach. She points to the younger one. “This is Jason and that is Mitchell.” Upon a closer examination, the older one, Mitchell’s, face is revealed.

 “Hey, you’re the guy who kept two of my students hostage!” Donald exclaims and Mitchell recoils. “I thought you were in prison, like you should be.”

 “You know those two little boys?” Mitchell asks. “I never got to apologize to them.” Donald stares at him, silent, before scooting over and allowing Mitchell to sit beside him. The girl plops herself between Chase and Douglas, laying her folded jacket in her lap. Jason remains, uncertain, until the girl gestures for him to sit. He maneuvers all the way in the back, between Bree and Leo. He is obviously uncomfortable in a crowd.

 “So… you’re Jason.” Bree says, breaking the awkward silence.

 “And you’re Bree?” He inquires and she nods. His voice is edged with the slightest of accents, perhaps British. “And you’re Leo Dooley, from the commercial? And the business cards?”

 “You saw my commercial?” Leo asks, a broad smile on his face.

 “Yes, and might I just say that your biceps are nowhere near that size.” He jokes before leaning on the back of the shelter. Bree shivers and Jason takes off his coat, handing it to her. He wears a thinner denim jacket beneath, but appears warm enough. It is rather tight on his body, hugging his muscles. Bree smiles and stares at him for a moment, making Jason even more uncomfortable. Douglas glances back before returning to the still unnamed girl. She has her back turned to him as she unfolds her jacket. She places it around Chase’s shoulders with a warm smile.

  “Thank you.” He whispers, his speech still a bit slurred.

  “You looked cold.” She replies with a shrug. She runs her fingers gently through his hair, rubbing the bandage down a bit more. Her eyes remain serious and unaffectionate, but sympathetic in their own way. She doesn’t seem to do anything out of tenderness, but out of habit or perhaps mere duty. “Now, go to sleep. I’ll wake you up a couple times, alright?” Chase smiles and pats her on the back and she shifts her weight with surprise. He lie down behind her, pulling the fuzzy hood up. She moves over to lean against the tree, looking out into the night as the snow continues to fall. Douglas is next to move over and lean against the wall behind the girl, Chase at his feet. “Goodnight, Douglas.” She says softly.

  “How do you know my name?” He asks.

  “Your charm bracelet. Pretty bold for a criminal to put his name on anything he wears.” She answers.

  “How do you know I’m a criminal?” He inquires, becoming more and more suspicious.

  “Your necklace, obviously.” She answers before closing her eyes and pulling her legs up, wrapping her arms around herself. It’s a moment before only Donald and Mitchell remain awake. They exchange untrusting glances as they keep watch, not just for dangers in the night, but also each other.

## Day Three (continued)

In the morning, Mitchell and Donald are the only ones awake. The unnamed girl is the next to wake up, startled to see that she leans on Douglas’ shoulder. She moves quickly away, waking him as well, who, in turn, lands an alarmed kick in Chase’s shoulder.

 “Douglas!” Chase snaps, rubbing his arm and sitting up. The girl is first to stand, stretching with a short yawn.

 “Mitch?” She asks and Mitchell looks up. “Where’s your satchel?”

 “Here, Sampson.” He replies, reaching under the platform and pulling out a well-worn denim satchel. She opens it and pulls out a metal canteen and a bag of jerky.

 “Sampson?” Donald questions. “Some name for a girl.”

 “It’s a last name, Davenport.” She retorts, obviously annoyed. He looks up at her quizzically.

 “You’re telling me that people, even grown men, call you by your last name?” Donald asks sharply.

 “I’m well-known and respected in the black market community.” She replies levelly. “I bootleg, design and repair weapons, and I’m an arms dealer. I’m good at what I do.”

 “You design and repair weapons?” Douglas inquires.

 “Yes, I do. You too?” She asks, glancing at his necklace.

 “Used to.” Douglas replies. She smirks and he looks away uncomfortably. She reaches over to pat him on the shoulder, offering the bag of jerky. He takes a strip and she hands him the canteen before going back to her own, which remains on the platform. She drinks and takes a piece of jerky from the bag before tossing it to Jason. They pass the bag and canteens until everyone has their breakfast in hand. Sampson quickly treats Adam, Bree, Chase, and Leo again in a nonchalant manner before they eat.

 “How do you people live off this?” Bree asks as she chews with difficulty.

 “Uh… we eat it?” Sampson replies with an uncertain expression. Her and Bree exchange confused looks.

 “I think what she means is how we can bear eating only this tasteless waste of meat every day.” Jason cuts in as he chews scornfully. His voice has undertones, emphasis on select words that catch Sampson’s attention.

 “Jason?” Sampson says with a pressed tone.

 “Yes, Raine?” He asks, amused. Upon hearing her first name, she winces and glares at him, green eyes livid and face with an icy, calm expression. She seems even more threatening this way.

 “Be grateful for a change, why don’t you? I don’t need to put up with your hostility.” She tells him, voice menacing. “And it’s Sampson to you.”

 “What, can’t take a joke?” He laughs.

 “No, I can’t take disrespect. That’s all you’ve shown me throughout this entire trip. I don’t care if I’m just a fifteen-year-old head case in your eyes, but you forget all I’ve done for you. I ask you to do one thing and I get disappointed.” She answers coldly. “I’m in much higher ranking for a reason, Jason.”

 “What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks, coming out of the shelter to tower over her. She looks up at him confidently, shoulders drawn back and chin held high. Everything about her is authoritative.

 “I know what I’m doing. It’s in my blood.” She replies, voice and eyes even more intense. There seems to be some kind of secret. Jason cowers and steps back, refusing to meet her eyes. The team looks on with surprise and Sampson leaves, heading toward the lake without another word. Mitchell leans toward Donald, watching Jason as he drags more wood onto the fire as he bites his lip, his amber eyes never leaving the ground in embarrassment.

  “Sampson’s a bit… reserved, as you can see.” Mitchell explains. “I’m sorry you had to see her handle that.”

  “Wasn’t she a little harsh with Jason?” Donald asks and Mitchell immediately shakes his head.

  “She saved him from a group of very unhappy customers recently. She was kind enough to fix everything for him with a lot of difficulty, but he never thanked her or showed her any respect. She knows him well enough and Sampson really misses nothing. It’s literally impossible to lie to her, believe me. That’s probably why she can look a police officer in the eye and lie through her teeth; because she knows how to hide it. She can sense all the undertones in Jason’s voice. Everything he says or does has different meanings to her.” Mitchell shrugs and turns to Adam, who remains asleep and snoring faintly. “She’ll be back… probably.”

  “I have her canteen, she’ll have to be back.” Chase says with a smirk as he sprawls out on the platform with a yawn, folding his hands behind his head with a wince.

  “Wouldn’t bet on it, kid.” Jason mutters as he squats by the fire, rubbing his gloved hands together and not daring to make eye contact. Bree carefully climbs from the shelter, standing up and putting a bit of weight on her knee. She crouches next to Jason, looking at him with a concerned gaze. Leo joins her, pulling his hood up. It’s a moment before Douglas, Donald, and Adam join around the blazing fire, trying to keep warm while Chase dozes off in the shelter, seeming perfectly warm in Sampson’s coat. The morning passes by slowly and not much is done around camp except for the occasional small talk. The sun is becoming low in the sky, shadows casting over the camp and sending the team into a deep cold yet again.

  “You know, it’s been way too long. Shouldn’t someone go after Sampson?” Donald says, serious, but not overly concerned. “There are too many bears out here.”

  “She’s armed, I wouldn’t worry about her.” Mitch says with a sigh.

  “She’s still a little girl.” Donald replies, standing up. Douglas looks up at him and smirks.

  “I’d love to see you say that to her face.” Douglas laughs, crossing his arms and pulling his denim jacket tighter. “She’d probably put a bullet in you instead.”

  “And how would you know? Unlike you, I actually raised a daughter.” Donald retorts. Bree merely smiles and shakes her head, rolling her eyes. “Girls are sensitive; I’ll just talk to her.”

  “Have you met Sampson?” Jason snaps. “She looks like a little pansy on the outside, but I’ve never met a girl with such a cold, impenetrable heart. She doesn’t even know how to trust, Donald. She’s almost completely immune to human emotions and-” Jason stops himself as he hears movement nearby, the entire team falling silent as they hear it as well. Chase is awakened and sits up, looking toward the sound. Sampson appears from the trees, her eyes shadowed with a hard, guarded expression.

  “Talking about me behind my back, are we now?” Sampson sighs as she walks closer. She carries a frayed rope with four fish attached. Her jeans are wet and shirt sprayed with water, which is already starting to freeze on the fabric. Somehow, she doesn’t even seem cold. Her voice is filled with bitter sarcasm as she continues. “Thanks, Jason, for singing my praises.” Everyone is silent as she hands the fish to Donald and walks toward the shelter, sitting down next to Chase with a grim countenance. She looks away from him and something different, perhaps sadness, flickers in her eyes before she blinks it away and looks toward the group again.

  It’s awhile before they eat the dinner Sampson caught and finish off the canteens, which Mitch refills with snow to later melt. They all sit in the shelter soon enough and Bree is first in her corner, Jason leans against the back wall with Leo a couple feet away, Donald and Douglas sit next to each other with their backs to the side wall, Mitchell sits opposite with Adam near him, and Chase leans against the tree once again. Sampson merely sits in the middle, gazing out at the snow thoughtfully, fumbling with her necklace and charm bracelet.

  “Sampson?” Chase whispers.

  “Yes, Chase?” She replies quietly.

  “I don’t think you’re cold-hearted.” He answers softly and she turns toward him, a look of confused incredulity on her face, deeply etched in her intense green eyes. Her guard drops as she meets his eyes, hers full of uncertainty. After a moment, her gaze softens a bit and her lips just barely curve into a smile before she looks away, out into the dark night.

## Day Four

In the morning, just after sunrise, Douglas is the first to wake up and leave the shelter to stretch. He turns back toward the team, thoughtful. Sampson is finally asleep, lying on her side in the middle of the platform where she has enough space. Her breathing comes in erratic and shallow, which Douglas seems to notice.

 “Sampson?” He whispers, laying a hand on her shoulder and gently shaking her. Her eyes snap open and she immediately kicks out, barely missing Douglas. She breathes heavily as she glances around, sitting up to make better sense of her surroundings. Her eyes are wild, frantic even, as she looks upon the team. By then, the commotion has awoken them. “Are you okay?” She sits stiffly before Douglas, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. She holds the edge of the platform firmly, hands shaking as she stares blankly ahead.

 “Um, yeah, I’m fine.” She replies, voice raspy. “A nightmare is all. Nothing to worry about.” She stands up quickly and her legs shake beneath her. She sways for a moment before Douglas catches her arm. He locks his concerned gaze with hers. She shakes her head and looks down at the snow.

 “Is there anything I can do?” Douglas asks. After a moment of silence, she looks up at him, green eyes guarded.

  “Uh, I just need to go for a walk.” She tells him as she pulls away. Instead, she starts jogging, breaking into a full run as she slips between trees. Adam slips out of the shelter and stands up, stretching as he looks into the trees.

  “What was that about?” Adam asks as he takes one of the canteens and some jerky. Donald and Douglas stand next to him, looking toward Mitchell questioningly. He rolls his eyes and leans back against the wall.

  “I suppose you want me to tell you.” He mutters matter-of-factly.

  “That would be nice, yes.” Bree replies with a smile as she leans on Jason, who grimaces with discomfort.

  “To be honest, I don’t know much.” Mitchell says. “All I know is that Sampson has a bit of a problem with nightmares. I’ve seen her wake up screaming before. I woke her up once and I ended up with a black eye and four cracked ribs. Her reflexes… they’re different when she has nightmares. Normally, she just pushes you away or restrains you with a quick, easy movement. When she has nightmares, she hits, kicks; everything is perfectly aimed, about as hard as she possibly can, and, well, calculated. You’re lucky, Douglas, that she missed. She cracked my ribs with one kick when I did that. She once sent her partner to the emergency room when he woke her up. You know criminals, we can’t risk going to the hospital for anything, but it was so bad, he had to. She broke his jaw, kicked him so hard there was internal bleeding, and he actually lost a rib. After all this time, she still won’t say what her nightmares are about. Why they seem to shake her up so much is still a mystery.”

 “Why do you think they make her so unsettled?” Chase asks, holding onto her round canteen, tracing his gloved fingers over the fabric Sampson obviously glued or stitched on.

 “Not a clue. I’m afraid to ask.” Mitchell answers. “She’s a damaged girl, Chase.”

 “Well, I’m going after her.” Donald says and looks back as he turns to follow her. He follows her footsteps in the snow, though she is effective at making her trail nearly invisible. He soon reaches the lake, where he sees Sampson bent down, washing her face in the icy water. Her long hair is pulled back and she wears a black tank top this time, her long sleeve shirt tied around her waist. Donald stops dead in his tracks as she pulls her arms back, resting her elbows on her knees. She reveals a long, thick scar on her upper left arm, part of it more than two inches thick and jagged. Black is blurred in the center of the large area, then the rest is narrow and crooked going to her shoulder and elbow.

  “Yes, Davenport?” She mutters, pulling her hair back down and draping it over her arm, hiding the scar, before turning toward him.“Tell me what you think of me. Right now. I won’t run away, I won’t shoot you, just tell me… Other than the obvious hatred you seem to have for me, what’s your problem?”

  “You wanna know? It’s because you’re one, a criminal, two, you’re completely untrustworthy, and three-“

  “I seem to have no natural affection for people.” She finished for him. She met his eyes, hers filled with something foreign to her face. She appears more guarded than ever, hiding something. Her voice is raw as she continues. “I have my reasons.” He stands, staring at her with uncertainty. Her voice changes as she continues, serious and hardened again. “Well, I was thinking that tomorrow, Mitch, Jason, and I could take you and your family back to civilization. If we leave at sunrise, we ought to arrive by sunset, get you on a plane back home.”

 “Sounds perfect.” Donald replies.

 “Then you can just turn us into the authorities, complete your little mission, go back to being heroes.” She keeps up, voice edged with spite as she pulls the long sleeve shirt back over her tank top and starts heading back. “We’ll go to jail, pay for all our mistakes, for the mistakes of others, and you can just pretend this never happened. How does that sound?”

 “Okay, you will only be paying for your own mistakes, all your debts to society.” Donald retorts. Sampson snorts and turns to him just as they reach camp. She’s deciding to handle this in front of everyone.

 “Really? Just my own mistakes? You have no idea whose mistakes I’ll be paying for; much more than what I, personally, have done.” She hisses through her teeth and returns to the shelter, sitting down next to Bree.

 “What’s going on?” Bree asks. Adam finishes dragging a branch onto the fire and stands, watching. Chase scoots over to pat Sampson on the arm. She flinches and glares at the ground. Mitchell and Jason back away slowly, heading toward the lake to avoid the awkwardness.

  “Sampson is deciding to give me a hard time about turning them in for being criminals, like they should be.” Donald answers accusingly. Douglas’ eyes widen, but he says nothing. Adam, Bree, and Leo stare at Donald with uncertainty while Chase gazes at Sampson, shocked.

  “Don’t we kind of owe her?” Leo asks timidly, glancing between Sampson and Donald. Her eyebrows raise and she looks up for a moment, surprised.

  “Yeah, she did kinda save us.” Bree adds on. Donald looks at both of them accusingly, as if they betrayed him.

  “Chase, back me up here.” Donald says, gesturing to him. Chase shrugs and looks at Sampson instead with a nervous grin.

  “Uh… No, I really can’t.” Chase says with an apprehensive laugh. Sampson looks at him and smiles with appreciation. “She’s done too much for all of us.”

  “Adam?” Donald asks in desperation. “Douglas?”

  “Don’t even ask me, Donny.” Douglas snaps. “If you think I’m going to stand by you, which you never did for me, when you’re completely and entirely wrong… well, that just shows how wrong you really are.”

  “I side with Douglas.” Adam says simply.

  “Oh, so you’ve all turned against me for a criminal?” Donald accuses.

  “Yeah, that’s what we just said, weren’t you listening?” Adam replies. With that, Donald storms off, heading in the same direction Mitchell and Jason did. Douglas goes to follow him after a moment of hesitation, throwing his hands up in the air with irritation. Summer sits awkwardly on the platform, seeming very uncomfortable.

  “Thanks, guys.” She says quietly, face softened, though the pain is still behind her eyes. “I’ve never had people stand up for me before.”

  “Really?” Bree asks. “Well, you’re too nice to not stand up for.”

  “Me? Nice?” Sampson laughs to herself before going to the back of the shelter, uncertain. Bree and Leo stand up and walk over to the fire, Bree hardly limping. Meanwhile, Chase scoots over to sit next to Sampson. She grins sheepishly and extends her slender legs, crossing them. Her fitted boots clomp on the platform as she does so. She wears shiny English-type spurs, the tips sharpened into harsh points. She likely uses them for self defense rather than riding. Chase extends his legs as well. Hers are almost as long as his.

  “If you don’t mind my asking, what were you and Mr. Davenport talking about? You said you were going to be paying for more than just your own mistakes.” Chase inquires. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Sampson stiffens at his words and bites her lip before returning her gaze to his. There’s something different in her eyes, as if she longs to tell him, but wants to keep guarded at the same time.

  “There’s not much I’d be willing to tell anyone, but let’s just say that there’s someone from my past that I’d rather not speak of for many reasons. Due to my prior affliction with said person, authorities will punish me far more for his mistakes.” She whispers. “I can’t escape the effects of all he’s done and nobody can seem to catch him, so I’ll be the one to pay.”

  “That doesn’t sound legal.” Chase says in disbelief.

  “It isn’t.” She replies immediately. It’s a moment of silence before Chase looks her in the eye with a sympathetic gaze. He lays his hand on her shoulder and pats her lightly. Then he points to the cut on her leg, which is aligned with the rip in her jeans.

  “What’s this from?” He asks, changing the subject.

  “This one with the questions!” She laughs playfully. “I believe that one is from barbed wire. You know, again.”

  “You believe?” He inquires with a questioning smirk.

  “Chase, when I’m on the run, I don’t feel pain.” She explains. “Besides, I don’t really keep track of my injuries anymore. Too many to keep count of.”

  “Sounds like a dangerous job.” He replies.

  “It is, but the danger is what keeps it so exciting.” Sampson laughs. Chase can’t help but smile this time, though he doesn’t seem to agree. After a moment, Sampson gets up and drinks from her canteen before getting into one of the satchels. She takes out a damaged gun and pulls a pocketknife from her belt. “It’s a .44 Magnum Revolver. Lovely, isn’t it? It’s just a project of mine. I found it on an exchange. Apparently, something went wrong inside and the barrel exploded. I’ve been trying to fix it, then I might resell it.” She says as she sits down and tinkers with it, trying to work the knife into a groove. After a few hours of working, Mitchell and Jason return with several fish, a handful of berries, herbs, and whatever else they could find. Sampson doesn’t seem to notice, Chase watches her work with interest, Adam is asleep in the shelter and snoring faintly, then Leo and Bree are chatting by the fire.

  “Sampson?” Jason asks quietly and she looks up while she digs her fingers and knife into the barrel, the blade cutting into her skin. She hardly notices as blood drips into the barrel. “You want me to make rose-hip tea, like you taught me?”

  “That would be great, Jason.” She answers with a smile. “Mitch, would you and Donald like to fry up those fish? Those herbs would be lovely with that, even if they are a bit frostbitten. I would if I could get my finger out of this.”

  “You know you’re drawing blood, right?” Douglas asks as he sits next to her. She shrugs and cringes as she moves her finger, slowly working it out of the barrel. She pulls out a deformed bullet along with it, holding it up victoriously.

 “I was completely aware. I couldn’t get even my finger out if I didn’t. Finally got that stupid little bullet, too.” She says as she wipes the blood from her finger. “Now I just have to get the other two that caused the problem and weld the crack to take care of the damage.”

 “Want a bandage?” Douglas offers.

 “Nah, blood clots. It’s just a little nick, nothing to worry about.” She says nonchalantly. “Oh, that reminds me. I need to call my informant, get that plane ride arranged.” She takes a phone out of a separate holster on her belt. It is wired around the screen and thick, appearing rather heavy. Douglas stares upon it quizzically and she rolls her eyes at him. “I built it myself, it has a keypad, a number pad, it doubles as a satellite phone, it works off of solar and electricity, it’s waterproof, it also has a touch screen, and it has an amazing amount of storage. It ain’t pretty, but it works like a charm.”

  “Not what I was looking at. That was a Davenport Industries phone, wasn’t it?” Douglas asks. Sampson nods with a sly smirk as she dials in.

  “Hey, it’s Raine Sampson… I’m fine, thanks. Listen, I need to cash in a favor.” She pauses. “Yes, again! It’s not a big one, either… Well, you know those bionic kids? They’re sitting next to me, their jet crashed and now they’re stranded… I don’t care if they work with the government, they’re decent. Besides, I’m pretty sure my team isn’t being turned in… I’m aware! They won’t cause you trouble, as long as you don’t… Well, whether or not you like it, you owe me. Besides, one of the Davenports was one of us, the one who faked his death… Good, I need you by sunset tomorrow, we’ll meet you on the outskirts of town. Thanks.” She hangs up and returns her phone to her holster.

  “Sounds like a lively conversation.” Douglas laughs. “I’m glad my being a criminal still comes in handy.”

  “You and I both, Douglas.” She responds. After awhile of waiting, the dinner is done and the large group eats, chatting for awhile before everyone finds their places and goes to sleep. Only Chase and Sampson remain awake for awhile. She looks out into the dark, sitting on the edge and seeming to have no intentions of going to sleep. Chase gazes upon her, concerned.

  “Are you afraid?” He whispers. Sampson looks back toward him with an unsettled stare.

  “Of what?” She stalls timidly, though she obviously knows exactly what he meant.

  “Another nightmare.” He clarifies, still leaning back against the shelter. She meets his eyes, seeming emotionally drained, but relieved to be talking about it.

  “Yes.” She admits quietly.

## Day Five

Early the next morning, just before sunrise, Sampson has dozed off, but wakes up slowly. Though she seems rather tired, she gets up smoothly and without hesitation.

  “Alright, everybody up!” She calls, gathering her things quickly. She drapes her canteen strap over her shoulder, grabs one of the satchels, and loads the gun that lies in her holster incase of bears. Mitchell is the first one to heed her command, springing up and getting ready himself. He hands out jerky and fills the canteens with more snow, moving very efficiently. Jason is next, taking his own things and putting out the last coals of the dwindling fire. Bree and Adam get up, yawning and moving a bit stiffly.  Donald and Douglas both fix their hair and eat, helping out the best they can in the process. Leo, too, does the best he can. Finally, Sampson helps Chase up and knocks down the support beams of the shelter, sending it tumbling to the ground.

  “What are you doing?” Donald asks.

  “Minimizing the evidence.” Sampson answers as she finishes up. “Now, come on. This time of year, daylight isn’t long enough in Alaska. We’ll have to really hurry. Jason, you and Adam will have to take turns supporting Bree. Adam does have super strength, but his back is still healing. Her knee isn’t well enough to take the pace we’ll have to move at. The terrain is hard going into town. Leo, you go with Jason and Adam. Chase, you come with me. I have to make sure your concussion has healed enough for you to keep up and not stumble over yourself. Mitch, I need you to keep track of Donald and Douglas, make sure neither of them fall behind. I’ll lead, I’ll take care of any bears, I’ll keep track of the footing. Alright?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Mitch and Jason say in unison. With that, Sampson nods and starts walking. She moves quickly, her stride long and confident as she moves through the trees. Chase walks behind her, watching his steps and hurrying to keep up. Adam lends Bree his arm and she puts a lot of her weight against him, trying to keep up as well. Mitch moves at the back, prodding Donald and Douglas to move faster. Though the trees are thick and the underbrush is tiresome, the terrain is relatively level and the footing isn’t bad. They keep at this fast pace and on such terrain for about four hours. It is going nicely until Sampson stops at the edge of a deep, wide gully. Icy water flows at the bottom, weaving between rocks.

  “Careful, alright.” Sampson calls as she takes Chase’s hand. “Feeling alright?”

  “Fine.” He answers, holding her hand visibly tighter as Sampson takes the first step down the steep descent. With each step, he follows, leaning far back and boots slipping. She sticks every careful step, not letting go of his hand for even a moment. Suddenly, Chase slips, landing on his hip and skidding past her. He tries desperately to regain his footing.

  “Chase!” She yelps as he sets her off balance, but she doesn’t fall or let go. Her feet slide on the frosty dirt as she leans back, going down on her knee and clenching her jaw. They both stop and Chase breathes a sigh of relief, going back up on his knees until he can stand. Sampson gets back on her feet and guides him down carefully, keeping her elbow against his and catching him with every tiny slip. When they reach the water, Sampson puts his arm over her shoulder and they splash through, both cringing at the intense cold. They reach the other side and Chase keeps his arm over her shoulder, his knees shaking. She looks at him and meets his eyes, concerned. “Sit, I’ll talk the others down. Just relax, okay?”

  “Okay.” He answers, voice wavering as he rests on the nearest rock. Sampson remains standing and waves. Jason, Adam, Leo, and Bree are next, Bree clinging to Jason’s arm as she slides. Adam gets down low and eases down the slope. Leo merely scoots down on his rear end.

  “Adam, watch that rock.” Sampson calls and Adam complies, stepping by it and slipping down without losing his balance. He makes it down to the water and steps quickly through, Leo trailing behind in cautiously. He almost makes it when he slips and goes down on one knee, soaking his entire leg. Sampson pulls him out Adam groans. Leo reaches her and she grabs his left hand, pulling him out toward her.

  “Wow, that’s cold!” Adam exclaims as he walks it off, rubbing his back.  Jason and Bree still carefully traverse down the side.

  “Well, when you-“ Leo tires to say, but Sampson cuts him off.

  “Wait, don’t step there!” Sampson calls, but she’s too late. Bree takes another step and the ground gives way. Bree slips, screaming, and collapses. Jason stumbles forward, trying to keep her from going any further. They slide almost to the water before Jason digs the heels of his boots into the ground and stops them both. Jason hesitates before picking her up and carrying her the rest of the way, keeping her out of the water. As soon as he gets her to the other side, he plops her down next to Chase and turns to Sampson. Bree sits there, blushing and staring at Jason. Chase just rolls his eyes and looks up at the ridge.

“Okay, Mitch!” Sampson yells. Donald nods and starts heading down, Mitchell moving slightly ahead. Douglas cowers behind them, flinching as his boots slip on the loose ground. He looks at Sampson and she give an exasperated groan. “Douglas, come on! You’re a criminal like I am, you should know this! Just relax and stay low.”

 “I’m a little rusty!” Douglas responds before doing as told, taking a deep breath and getting lower. He picks his way down the slope, his skills seeming to come back to him. He makes it across the stream and Sampson pats him on the back.

 “Now, was that so hard?” She asks, a sly smirk on her face. It’s a moment before Donald and Mitchell make it down. The group rests for a moment while Sampson waits impatiently, pacing and looking up at the ridge that awaits them. “Okay, I’m going to start climbing. Come on, Chase.”

 “Coming.” He says as he gets up and stands next to her.

 “Going up is a lot easier. Keep your momentum.” She instructs and takes off at a run, jumping at the hillside and digging into the stones and dirt. Chase follows with uncertainty, catching up alongside her. Sampson takes it easily, hardly sliding as she nears the top. When they almost reach the ridge, she claws her way up and perches at the top, reaching down and grabbing Chase’s hand. He kicks off and she pulls him hard, leaning back and dragging him up to the top. He pushes off again and she falls backwards with a dissatisfied groan. Chase finally gets himself past the edge and rolls over onto his back, panting beside Sampson.

 “Thanks.” He whispers between breaths. Sampson smiles and sits up, waving to the others. Adam is climbing, pulling Leo along behind him. Sampson offers her hand and Adam grabs ahold, accepting her help. She pulls him up with everything she has, taking Leo up behind him. Jason and Bree aren’t far behind, though Jason has Bree hauled over his shoulder. He is dripping sweat by the time he reaches the top, no matter the cold. Sampson and Chase immediately come to their aid. As soon as Chase pulls him to safety, Jason collapses and lie in the snow, coughing. Soon, Mitchell, Donald, and Douglas are hurrying up the slope. As they reach the top, Sampson grabs onto Donald’s hand, struggling to help him over the edge. Chase helps Douglas and Adam helps Mitchell, though all of them are exhausted at this point. As soon as Sampson gets Donald over the edge, she lets go and falls into the deep snow, enervated.

  “Sampson?” Jason sighs from a few feet away. “I think we’re losing daylight.” She groans and sits up, elbows shaking.

  “You’re right.” She says, speech heavily slurred with weariness. However, she doesn’t hesitate to stand up. Her knees shake as she starts walking. The rest of the group follows, having trouble keeping up. After awhile, the large group seems to be recovered. Sampson steps up the pace as the sky becomes colored with the sunset. “We’re almost there.”

  “Good.” Chase replies and walks alongside her. The sun is almost disappeared behind the mountains by the time the forest opens up to the runway. The man Sampson spoke to stands next to a relatively small plane, checking his watch. He has dark brown hair and brown eyes, his face unshaven. Upon seeing Sampson, he scowls.

  “Took you long enough.” He snaps. When she takes a bold step toward him, he looks down at her tattered jeans. Fresh blood drips from her knee and she is covered in dirt, mud, and ice. He is immediately silenced.

  “It’s been a long day.” She sighs. “Ready?”

  “Yes, let me just go make sure the skies are clear. Be right back.” He says as he goes into the plane. The large group gathers near the door. Mitchell turns to Donald, Douglas, Leo, and Adam with an awkward grin.

  “Thanks for not turning us in. You guys hold up, okay?” He says and gladly shakes their hands. Jason and Bree stand for a moment, shy smiles crossing over their faces. Jason looks very different with a smile. He appears young and rather handsome, something Bree takes notice of.

  “You’re alright, Bree. Take care.” He says and offers his hand. She blushes and accepts his offer, shaking his hand lightly. Meanwhile, Sampson stands next to Chase silently, looking at the ground. It’s a moment before she turns toward him, eyes flicking between him and the ground. He raises his eyebrows as he gazes at her, unsure of what to say.

  “Well, I guess this is goodbye.” Sampson says, seeming slightly disappointed.

  “I guess it is.” Chase replies. “You were a great girl to be around, Sampson.”

  “Chase… that’s actually not my name. Raine Sampson is just an alias.” She admits, meeting his eyes with something different in hers. Her green eyes sparkle in the dwindling light just as the sun disappears over the mountains, casting shadows over the landscape. “My real name is Summer Davis.”

  “Why tell me?” He asks in shock. The pilot opens the door and waves to them, gesturing for them to get in.

  “I don’t know.” She says softly before nodding to the pilot. The rest of the family is heading onto the plane, but Chase is unable to tear himself away. Summer soon continues, voice warm. “Well Chase, I hope I get to see you again someday.” Chase’s eyes widen and his cheeks flush red, his hazel eyes locked with her green ones.

  “Come on, Chase!” Douglas snaps and pulls him aboard. Chase watches Summer leave as the door is closed and the engines start.

## The End

I hope you enjoyed it! By the way, this is my first time writing fan fiction. ChaseIsTheBomb is the reason I wrote this, she inspired me to actually get it written! Okay, so... the polls now.