The ancient Cessna rattled as it climbed higher into the sky, each gust of wind feeling like a slap against its battered frame. Inside, Nick clutched his seat, the Nile Stone hanging under his shirt, still faintly warm against his chest.
Kadeem sat at the controls, sunglasses low on his nose, a stick of gum wedged between his teeth.
"You know," he drawled, "they say old birds fly best."
"I think this one's been through a hurricane or two," Amir joked, eyeing the frayed wires dangling near the dashboard.
Aisha sat near the back, checking a small, battered satchel of supplies. Dr. Hassan, flipping through the parchment map again, murmured notes under his breath.
For a brief moment, it almost felt normal.
Four unlikely companions, hurtling through the air on a wing and a prayer.
Nick leaned toward Kadeem. "So, you never told us. Why'd you stop flying?"
Kadeem's smile faded. His hands tightened slightly on the controls.
He let out a long breath before answering.
"Few years ago," he said quietly, "I was flying aid missions down south. Civil wars, famine zones, the worst of it. One day, I was ferrying a medical team out of a bad area. Real bad. Got warned not to land, but I thought I could pull it off."
He stared out the windshield, his eyes distant.
"We got hit. Small arms fire, maybe a rocket—I don't even remember. We went down hard. Lost good people that day. Should've been me too, but..."
He trailed off, shaking his head.
Silence settled heavily across the cabin.
"I'm sorry," Nick said after a moment.
Kadeem shrugged, forcing a smile. "You asked."
Dr. Hassan placed a hand on Kadeem's shoulder. "You're doing a great thing helping us now. Maybe it's a second chance."
Kadeem didn't answer. He only pushed the throttle forward, the engine growling in response.
---
Hours passed.
They flew over the endless tan deserts of Sudan, crossing the scorched skeleton of the Sahara.
Nick dozed off for a time, only to jolt awake when the radio crackled violently to life.
> "Unidentified aircraft, this is Special Security Forces. You are violating international flight regulations. Divert immediately or we will engage."
Everyone stiffened.
Nick blinked. "Special Security Forces? Who the hell are they?"
Kadeem's jaw tightened.
"Not military," he said grimly. "Something else."
Amir looked nervous. "Do we respond?"
Kadeem shook his head. "If we talk, they'll lock our position even faster."
Dr. Hassan leaned forward urgently.
"I don't like the sound of that."
A shrill whine pierced the sky.
A sleek black fighter jet sliced past them — a blur of death and precision.
"They mean business," Aisha muttered.
The radio barked again:
> "This is your final warning, unidentified aircraft. Land immediately or face consequences."
Kadeem's voice was steel.
"Hold on."
He banked the plane sharply, diving hard, engines roaring in protest. The horizon spun crazily.
Nick gripped the armrests until his knuckles turned white.
"They're still following!" Amir cried.
Another jet screamed past, circling them like a hawk sizing up its prey.
"What's the plan?" Nick shouted.
"Pray this bird holds together," Kadeem muttered. "And get ready for turbulence!"
The first missile streaked toward them—
a bright dart slicing through the sky.
Kadeem yanked the plane into a desperate roll.
The missile missed by inches, exploding harmlessly behind them in a flash of white fire.
"WE CAN'T OUTRUN THEM!" Amir yelled.
"No," Kadeem agreed grimly, "but we can outcrash them."
"What?!" Nick shouted.
Before anyone could react, Kadeem cut the engines.
The Cessna dropped like a stone.
Wind screamed around them. The earth rushed up faster than Nick could process.
"Kadeem!" Aisha shouted.
"TRUST ME!"
They slammed through clouds, hurtling toward a patchwork of green and brown. Trees, rivers, scrubland—all blurring together.
Nick braced for impact.
The plane tore through the tops of trees, snapping branches like matchsticks.
Metal screeched.
The world spun.
And then—
everything went black.
---
When Nick came to, everything hurt.
The wreckage of the Cessna lay crumpled around him, wings twisted like broken limbs. Smoke hissed from the bent engine.
The air smelled of burning oil and crushed leaves.
He coughed, struggling to unbuckle his seatbelt.
"Everyone—" he croaked. "Is everyone okay?"
Groans answered him.
Dr. Hassan limped into view, blood trickling from a cut on his forehead. Amir stumbled after him, one arm clutched to his ribs.
Aisha emerged from the wreckage, bruised but alive. Her eyes darted around, assessing their surroundings.
Kadeem pulled himself free of the cockpit, grimacing.
"Alive," he muttered. "Mostly."
Nick sagged in relief.
They had survived.
Somehow.
---
They gathered their supplies quickly.
Much had been destroyed in the crash, but the Nile Stone was intact, still nestled under Nick's shirt.
Aisha squinted at the thick forest surrounding them.
"Where are we?" she asked.
Dr. Hassan pulled out a cracked GPS unit from his coat, smacking it against his palm until it flickered to life.
He stared at the blinking screen, then let out a heavy breath.
"Zimbabwe," he said.
"Deep in the bush."
Amir groaned. "We're supposed to be in South Africa!"
"Still south," Nick said wryly, trying to lift spirits.
Kadeem shook his head. "We're gonna have to go the rest of the way… on foot."
Silence fell.
The dense jungle stretched endlessly in every direction.
Birds shrieked in the canopy. Insects buzzed hungrily. Somewhere distant, something large moved through the underbrush.
Nick squared his shoulders.
"Then let's get moving."
He tucked the Nile Stone under his jacket, feeling its steady pulse against his heart.
Their quest wasn't over.
It was just getting harder.
And he wouldn't let anything stop him now.
--