Expect the Sunrise by Susan May Warren Page A

idea the resources they were consuming?
    “Making a signal fire,” Nina said. Fatigue lined her eyes, sank her face, but her movements betrayed a woman on a mission. Apparently a mission to return to her children. “We figured that if they were looking for us, it would help to have smoke.”
    That’s what the Emergency Locator Transmitter was for. The ELT operated on the VHF range of 121.5 kHz, with signals that bounced off satellites designated to listen for distress calls. Not only that, Andee, along with many other pilots, kept her radio receiver on “guard” frequency of 121.5, just in case. Even though no one had located them yet and they weren’t on any normal flight path, someone could still hear them. If help didn’t arrive soon, using up the matches was the first of many bad ideas.
    Andee dropped her blanket and strode over to the airplane, grabbing the cushion just as Phillips emerged from the plane. “There is still avgas all over the place. This thing could go up.” She shoved the cushion at Phillips. “Stay out of the plane.”
    When he blanched white, she felt instantly sorry. Out of all of them, Phillips seemed the one person she could count on. His prayer last night and his words about the apostle Paul and Timothy had touched her soul in a way she still couldn’t voice. She hoped he’d keep praying for God’s deliverance. She needed a reminder of God’s presence right about now as she faced a day of keeping everyone alive.
    As she moved away from the plane, her gaze fell on a backpack—Sarah’s backpack—wedged against the instrument panel. It held Sarah’s Bible and possibly supplies.
    Andee took a deep breath and squeezed into the cockpit, reaching for the pack. Her gaze fell on the ELT, their only hope of—
    She felt hands on her legs, pulling at her. “Let me go, Phillips! I gotta get the ELT!” The hands tugged at the back of her jacket. “Stop—” She turned.
    Mac. And he had her by the arm, his face twisted in fury or panic. “Get out of here!” He yanked her away from the plane, practically dragging her over the tundra.
    She stumbled behind him and saw the blaze had caught, fueled by the wind and spray of gas on the vinyl seats. A bonfire of smoke and flames plumed, the fire hot and roaring, melting the snow around it, sparks showering down.
    On the plane. And the damaged wings that stored fuel.
    Run. She’d barely put thought to action when the plane exploded.
    Ka-boom!
    One second she was running, and the next she’d landed facedown in the snow while a scorching, roaring fireball rolled over her head. Andee couldn’t breathe, let alone think. Atop her, she felt something—no someone —heavy pushing her head to the ground, breathing hard into her neck. Mac?
    She listened to the flames growl around her as the fire consumed the plane in mini-explosions and found her extra gas can.
    She shook. Mac’s arm covered her head. He felt so close and so protective, she didn’t know what to do with the feelings that rushed through her. His breaths came in ragged puffs. Then she lifted her head and looked at him. His blue eyes so luminous, so shocked, even worried. Another emotion followed. It dried her throat.
    Anger.
    He pushed away from her, turned on his hip, and stared at the plane. Andee’s eyes followed his gaze. Flames clawed out of the windows, chewed at the cover, and peeled the paint.
    Mac turned and looked at her. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he blamed her.
    “You okay?” he growled. He stood and pulled her up, staring at her for a long time.
    She wasn’t sure how to respond. She nodded slowly.
    “So much for getting out of here,” he said and marched away.

    Mac’s suspect list had just expanded to three. His scrutiny ranged from Nina and Phillips, standing wide-eyed ten feet behind him, to Emma, who held a backpack in one hand as the flames roared through her plane. She seemed shaken when he met her gaze, and he saw fear ring her eyes. But