The Atlantis Gene (The Origin Mystery, #1)

The lake rushed toward them quickly now. David leveled the plane. Or tried — the plane was much harder to control without the force of the engines.

Scenarios of doom raced through Kate’s mind. What if they went nose first into the lake? There were mountains around them. The lake could be incredibly deep — and cold. The plane would pull them down. They’d never survive the icy abyss. What if they did level-off? How would they stop — they’d hit the trees at full speed. She imagined a series of tree branches stabbing a dozen holes in them, like needles in a voodoo doll. Or the gas, the fumes in the tank would explode at any spark; that would get them fast.

The pontoons skidded unevenly on the water, and the plane rocked from side to side.

One of the pontoons could come off — that would tear the plane — and them — to pieces.

Kate tightened her lap belt. Should she take it off? It could cut her in half.

The pontoons kissed the water again before reeling back into the air, wobbling and wounded.

Kate leaned forward, and for some reason, put her arms around David’s neck, holding him tightly to his seat and pressing herself against the back of his seat. She rested her head at the base of his neck. She couldn’t watch. She felt the plane plow into the water more violently. The floor shook constantly. The turbulence spread to the thin metal walls, she heard a series of cracks, and she was flung back into her seat, the breath almost knocked out of her. She opened her eyes and sucked in a breath. They were stopped. Branches! In the cockpit. David’s head hung lifelessly.

Kate lunged forward but the lap belt nearly tore her in half. She reached for him, disregarding the belt. She felt around his chest. Had a branch gone through him? She couldn’t feel anything.

He lifted his head lethargically. “Hey lady, at least buy me a drink first.”

Kate slumped back in her chair and shoved his shoulder. She was glad to be alive. And glad he was too, but she said, “I’ve had better landings.”

He glanced back at her. “Over water?”

“As it turns out, this is my first water landing, so, no.”

“Yeah, my first water landing too.” David unbuckled himself and climbed out the passenger door. He got his footing on the step and released the passenger seat so Kate could get out.

“You’re serious aren’t you? You’ve never landed a plane on water? Are you out of your mind?”

“No, I’m just kidding. I land on water all the time.”

“Do you always run out of gas?”

David began unpacking supplies from the plane. “Gas?” He gazed up, as if remembering something. “We didn’t run out of gas. I just killed the engines for dramatic effect. You know, just hoping you would do that reach forward hug from behind thing.”

“Very funny.” Kate began organizing supplies, as if they had been doing this routine for years. She looked over at David. “You’re uh, certainly more… lively, than you were in Jakarta.” She had considered not saying anything, but she wondered… “I mean, I’m not complaining—”

“Well, you know, surviving certain death always puts me in a good mood. Speaking of,” he handed her the end of a large green tarp. “Help me spread this over the plane.”

Kate ducked under the plane and caught the tarp when he threw it over, then rejoined him at the small pile of supplies. She glanced back at the covered plane. “We’re not going to… will we be flying out on…”

David smiled at her. “No, I’d say that was its last flight. And besides, it’s out of gas.” He held up three MREs, fanning them out like playing cards. “Now are you continuing your hunger strike or do you wish to partake of one of these fine delicacies?”

Kate pursed her lips and leaned closer as if inspecting the brown packages. “Hmmm. What’s on the menu this morning?”

David turned the boxes around. “Let’s see, for your culinary enjoyment, we have: Meatloaf, Beef Stroganoff, and Chicken Noodle Stew.”

Kate’s last meal had been yesterday — late afternoon, before they had retreated into the bomb shelter below the cottage. “Well, I’m not really all that hungry, but the Chicken Noodle Stew sounds simply irresistible.”

David spun the pack around and ripped. “An excellent choice, Ma’am. Please wait several moments while your entree is heated.”

Kate stepped toward him. “You don’t have to heat it.”

“Nonsense, it’s no trouble.”

Kate considered the tarp covering the plane. “Won’t the fire give away our location… put us at risk—”

David shook his head. “My dear doctor, I admit we’re roughing it a bit today, but we’re not living in the stone ages, cooking our food on stone hearths like Neanderthals.” He plucked what looked like a small pen light from his pack and held it up to her. He twisted the top and a torch-like flame sprang up. He moved the flame back and forth under Kate’s meal.