“Same with mine,” Emily said, staring down at hers. I’d looked for my own phone but hadn’t seen it anywhere. It’d likely rolled under something in the mayhem of the descent and the crash, but since we had two phones and the smell of jet fuel was strong and worrisome, I had decided it wasn’t worth the risk to search for mine.

“They weren’t low in charge, so maybe they got banged around in the crash,” Emily suggested, turning hers over as though there might be evidence of damage on some part of the device.

“Even if it starts working, we’re probably too far out in the middle of nowhere,” Charlie said, his expression glum as he put his phone in his pocket.

The blanket from which they’d retrieved their phones lay open on the ground, the water bottles, snacks, and other items I’d deemed useful still inside. Of course, I hadn’t had any idea where we were or what we might be up against, so who even knew if I’d gathered anything useful, other than food provisions.

All I did know was that we seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, the sun was lowering in the sky, and Charlie was right about one thing: it was cold as fuck.

Emily had put on a white jacket with a fur collar and a pair of tight black leather pants, but she was still shivering. “Do you have anything warmer than that?” I asked.

She looked down at her outfit and shook her head. “I have a pair of pajama pants.”

“I’d put them on. Layer up.”

She appeared ready to argue, but then nodded, bending toward her luggage. Charlie had put on a jacket too and was sitting on his suitcase, fiddling with his phone again.

I opened my duffel bag and pulled out a jacket and some boots, and then tossed the useless clothing items on the ground and began transferring the things I’d gathered from the plane into the bag.

“What are you doing?” Charlie asked.

“It’ll be easier to carry this,” I told him, zipping it closed.

“Carry?”

“Yeah. Carry. I’m going to start walking.”

“Walking?” Emily balked. “Why would you start walking?”

“Because there’s probably some sort of civilization within a few miles, and it’s better than sitting here and freezing our asses off.”

“But…but air traffic control must know our plane went down,” Charlie said. “Help has to be on the way.”

“Didn’t you hear Russell?” I asked.

“Who’s Russell?”

“The pilot.”

“Oh,” Charlie said, his gaze skittering toward the place where his body lay and then away.