6
Mary watches intently as Sam slowly back-steps until he disappears entirely from view.
“Dear God, where is he going?” she whispers to herself.
She wonders what the hell she should do. She’s freezing. They aren’t flying nearly as high as they had been before the explosion, but the air is still so cold it’s making her numb. In a very strange way, she’s thankful for the laptop pressed against her chest since the hard, plastic device guards against the relentless wind. She knows that if she were seated in the chair closest to the hole, she would not be able to survive the attack of frigid air. Seated where she is in the outer chair, however, she’s far enough away from the windy onslaught that it is somewhat bearable but still painful.
Staring through the opening, she can see nothing but
