Nearly all the volunteers had gotten to safety.
At present, only five individuals were missing, Raegan and Misael included.
âMiss Foster stayed behind to rescue a child, which delayed her escapeâ¦â
Before the guard could finish, blood burst forth from Mitchelâs mouth.
Mitchelâs pale lips were stained crimson, the blood trickling down.
âMr.
Dixon!â The guards hurried over, trying to lend him some support.
Yet, Mitchel waved his hand dismissively.
He slowly rose to his feet, his voice cold as ice, âGet a helicopter, bring more rescuers, and widen the search perimeter.
We must find Raegan, even if we have to search every corner of this damned village!â
The guards wasted no time and got right to it.
A helicopter soon landed in an open field.
Mitchel climbed aboard, adjusted his specialized glasses, and signaled to proceed.
The helicopter swept low across the area.
After multiple passes, no signs of life appeared, not even a small indication of any living creature.
The whole ground was a dull gray.
No signs of life anywhere.
Debris continued to cascade down from Mount Burwood.
This spot remained the heart of the disaster, deemed too hazardous for entry.
After making a second pass, the sense of despair in the helicopterâs cabin was noticeable among the guards.
It seemed impossible to locate a breathing Raegan.
Mitchelâs gaze was locked on the gray landscape beneath him, his handsome features filled with sorrow.
Given the situation, was there any chance of making it out alive?
Yet, he couldnât bring himself to accept Raegan had died.
It was unthinkable that fate would be so harsh on him! It just couldnât be!
Seeing Mitchelâs ghastly pallor, one of the guards softly suggested, âMr.
Dixon, maybe you should take a break.
Let us continue the search.
âHead toward latitude 45 degrees.
Angle it!â Mitchelâs voice turned cold as he spoke abruptly.
The pilot adjusted the helicopterâs course accordingly.
To the guardsâ amazement, they noticed a red ribbon moving on a bare tree branch.
Approaching, they spotted a little boy, covered in dirt, waving a red scarf.
Mitchelâs pupils contracted sharply.
That scarf belonged to the volunteers.
Raegan had one just like it.
And such a layer of dust was unusual for a child to equip with.
Mitchel grabbed the gear from the guard beside him and hastily strapped it on.
âIâm going down!â
Caught off guard, the guard began to protest, âMr.
Dixon, you.
.
â
But before the guard could even complete his sentence, Mitchel had already descended from the helicopter using a rappelling rope.
The pilot skillfully adjusted the helicopterâs position.
Taking the chance, Mitchel leaped and grabbed a thick branch.
He then gestured with his white glove, signaling that he had landed safely on the tree.
Misael had been clinging on without sleep for so long that he felt utterly drained, yet he continued to shiver uncontrollably.
visibly frightened.
Mitchel gently took Misaelâs hand, embracing him firmly, and asked with a deep voice, âCan you talk?â
Misael nodded and then quickly shook his head.
Mitchelâs eyes were pitch-black, his body colder than it appeared.
âWho handed you this scarfâ¦â
Mitchel seemed to be suppressing his voice, as if afraid that even a slight carelessness would shatter his hopes.
Misaelâs face was streaked with tears and fear.
âA lady⦠A stunning ladyâ¦â The fear of the night and his empty stomach made it hard for Misael to put his thoughts into words.
But the most crucial message stuck in his mind.
âShe told me sheâs Janeyâs motherâ¦â
At that moment, Mitchelâs deep, dark eyes filled with intensity, his heart sinking.