Brett Battles - Sick

Ash put the license back, then picked up the piece of paper.

“Why is this here?” he asked. It was the pink slip for a 2009 Honda Accord.

“You don’t want to walk everywhere, do you?” Pax asked. “It’ll be waiting when we land. Registration will hold up even if you get pulled over.”

Ash stared at the cash and the cards and pink slip. “What do you guys want from me? You can’t be giving me all this for free.”

Pax was silent for several seconds. “The hope is you’ll come back and help us when your personal business is settled. But that’ll be up to you. It’s not an expectation. We’d do this for you no matter what.”

“Come back and help you do what, exactly?”

Pax leaned back in his seat. “That’s something you’ll have to hear from Matt, when you’re ready.” He closed his eyes like he was going to take a nap.

Ash transferred the items into his bag, then pulled out the two files from the briefcase. The first folder contained a set of grainy, five-by-seven photos, eight in all. Five were of men, and three were of women. A note was attached to the front picture.If you see any of these people, or someone you think looks like any of them, I’d appreciate it if you would contact us.Matt

Ash looked at the pictures again. None of the faces were familiar to him. He put the photos back in the folder and set it aside. The second folder contained newspaper clippings. There was also a note with these.Some things to think about.

This one was not signed, but the handwriting was the same as the other.

Ash looked through the clippings, reading the headlines: Earth Population Hits 7 Bil,Oil Spill Devastates Gulf Coast,Darfur Genocide Sees No End,Ethnic Cleansing a Worldwide Epidemic,Vanuatu Sees Territory Shrink As Oceans Rise .

Cheerful stuff.

“Those you can keep.”

Pax’s voice surprised him. Ash looked over, but Pax was still lying back with his eyes closed.

“The only things I need to take back are the pictures and the briefcase.”

“Are these articles supposed to mean something to me?” Ash asked.

“Didn’t cut them out. Don’t know what they are. Was just told you could keep them.”

Ash wasn’t sure he wanted to keep them, but he slipped the folder into his bag. He could always throw them out later.

“How long are we going to be in the air?” he asked.

“A couple hours.”

“Is there a bathroom on this thing?”

“In back.”

As Ash passed Chloe, she eyed him warily but didn’t pull back.

He had almost forgotten about her as he looked through the things Pax had brought him. Matt had said she would be valuable to him, but Ash was doubtful that whatever value she brought would outweigh the negatives he felt she had. It would probably be best to part ways once she pointed him in the right direction.

Because if she got in his way…

Rachel got out of the car and joined her brother at the edge of the runway. Together they watched the Gulfstream gain speed as it rushed away from them then lift off into the air. It wasn’t until the plane was a little dot in the distance that either of them spoke.

“What do you think his chances are?” she asked.

“You know I’m not good at figuring out odds. But if you pushed me I’d probably say not a chance in hell.”

“We’ve had people beat that before.”

“Yes, we have.”

She smiled. “You once said there was no way we would ever be able to defeat them.”

He took a breath. “I’m still inclined to believe that.”

“Yet we’re still here. Still fighting.”

“It’s a war that should have started a lot earlier than it did. All we’re doing is damage control and catch up.”

They fell silent.

“Do you think he’ll come back?” she asked.

“You mean after he beats no chance in hell? Maybe.”

“We could certainly use him.”

“We already are,” Matt said.

Rachel knew he was talking about the vials of Ash’s blood their off-site team was already working with. Their resources and facilities weren’t as impressive as the organization they were up against, but they weren’t working with kids’ chemistry sets either, and their people were both dedicated and motivated.

“I think he will be back,” she said.

Silently, they both looked west, in the direction the plane had finally disappeared. For the moment, there was nothing more to say.

Confirmation came at noon when Tamara’s mother called, wailing, and told her that someone from the California Highway Patrol had just notified her that Gavin was dead. Thirty minutes later, a list of the Tehachapi casualties was handed out to the media at Fort Irwin.

Tamara knew Gavin’s name would be there, but when she saw it, it was as if the breath had been ripped from her lungs.

Joe put an arm around her. “I’ll call the network and let them know. You won’t have to do any more reports.”

“No,” she said. “Don’t call.”

“You don’t need to be a hero.”

“I need to do this, okay? I need to have this right now. Understand?” What she didn’t say was that while Joe had been off at a logistics briefing elsewhere on the base, she and Bobby had been working on a piece about her brother’s death that she wanted to work into one of her upcoming reports.

“Seriously, Tammy. Your brother died. Don’t push yourself.”

“She’ll be fine,” Bobby said.

Joe frowned. “I don’t know.”

“What else is she going to do out here?” Bobby asked, looking around. “It’ll give her something to take her mind of things until she can go home.”

Joe thought for a moment, then looked at Tamara. “If that’s what you really want.”

She nodded. “It’s what I want.”

She allowed herself a quick glance at Bobby while Joe was distracted by a couple of helicopters landing nearby. “Done?” she mouthed.

He nodded.

Good. As soon as she could figure out how to work it in, the report would be ready to go.

“Who are these guys?” Joe asked.

Tamara turned around. The two arriving helicopters had settled down about fifty yards from where the press was camped out. The only other time helicopters had landed in that area was when they were all evacuated here. Though these were dark green, they had no markings on them, military or otherwise.

Three men jumped out of each helicopter, then gathered on the tarmac. After about half a minute, two of the men broke off and headed over to a waiting Jeep. The helicopters, though, had not powered down, giving the impression their stay was going to be short.

“I have no idea,” Tamara said. “National Guard?”

“Could be, I guess.”

They were just turning away when Bobby said, “Oh, crap.”

Tamara looked over. Bobby, always looking for images they could use, had his camera on his shoulder, shooting the helicopters.

“What is it?” she asked.

He stepped back into the shade of the canopy and said, “Come here.”

Tamara walked over, with Joe right on her heels. As soon as she got there, Bobby handed her the camera.

“The four men,” he said.

She aimed the lens at the men on the tarmac.

“The guy on the left.”

She centered the picture on the guy in question.

“Here,” Bobby said. “Let me zoom it in for you.”

He pushed a button on top of the camera, and the image of the man rushed at her.

“Whoa, whoa,” she said. “Too much.” The picture had pushed past the man, and into the passenger area of the helicopter. There was something yellow clumped on the seat, but she barely registered it. “Let me do it.”

Bobby showed her where the button was, and she eased the zoom out a little, then adjusted the angle so she could see the man’s face. He was in profile, and though he looked a bit familiar, she couldn’t place him. Maybe one of the guys who’d flown them out during the evacuation?