Brett Battles - Sick

His eyes slammed shut as a new wave of pain washed over him. He took several deep breaths, trying to regain a little control. When it happened to Ryan, the school nurse had come down to the field and slipped it back into place while the rest of them stood around and watched.

Paul didn’t have anyone to put it back in place for him. He was going to have to do it himself.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” he said out loud. “Two seconds and it’s over.”

He arranged his leg so that the back edge of his shoe’s heel was on the ground. He then put his left hand on his kneecap, and his right on his thigh. Taking several quick, deep breaths, he tried to calm himself. Then, before he could talk himself out of it, he pushed down on his thigh and in on his kneecap. As the leg straightened, the cap moved back into place.

He yelled out, not so much in new pain, but in memory of the old. Because while his knee was indeed throbbing, the sheer intensity of the pain he’d been feeling had subsided.

He lay against the desert floor, panting.

It was several minutes before he finally pushed himself up. His bike was about ten feet away. At first glance, it didn’t look like it had suffered much damage. He took a tentative step toward it, but immediately his left leg howled in pain. There was no way it was going to be able to hold his weight for any length of time, so he hopped as best he could to the bike.

As he pulled it off the ground, he smelled gas. There was a wet spot on the dirt under where the tank had been. He looked at the bike, checking for a hole, a loose hose, anything.

It was the cap. It had come loose somehow. He tried to think back to when he’d siphoned the gas from his brother’s bike. Had he not made sure the cap was on tight? There was really no other explanation.

He took it off now and looked inside. There was still some gas sloshing around in there, but how much had he lost?

“Dammit!” he yelled. I’m such an idiot.

He put the top back on, making sure it was secure this time, then wheeled the bike over to where he’d left his helmet.

Once he was re-outfitted, he got on and started up the bike. His left leg was already starting to stiffen and was going to be a problem. With more than a little pain, he bent it enough to get his foot on the peg.

He coughed a couple times, and he couldn’t wait until he could drink some water and get the dust out of his system.

Then he resumed his journey to freedom.

It wasn’t until they landed that the window shades rose again.

Ash looked outside. They seemed to be at a small airport. He could see a few planes parked off to the side and a hangar in the distance.

“Where are we?” he asked.

Pax glanced out the window. “Well, unless we got lost on the way, this should be Sonoma County, California.”

Though Ash had been stationed twice in California, he only had a vague idea that Sonoma County was somewhere in the North.

“This is where my children are?”

“As close as we can get.” Pax tilted his head toward the back. “Chloe will take you the rest of the way.”

Though they were still taxiing, Pax unbuckled himself and got up. He retrieved the metal case from the cabinet, then set it on the floor between his and Ash’s seats. He undid the clasps and lifted off the top. Protective foam lined the box, while another thick sheet covered whatever was inside. Pax pulled this away, revealing a small arsenal.

“You liked the SIG so much, I got you three,” Pax said as he touched the hilt of one of the three SIG SAUER P229 pistols inside. “You have four boxes of ammo, three extra mags…well, five if you only use one gun. I also packed a pair of binoculars, and something we call little bangs.”

“Little bangs?”

Pax moved a few things around, then pulled out a hard plastic rectangular box about an inch thick, and opened the top. The inside was divided into two parts. On one side was a device that looked like a cell phone, complete with a touch-screen display. On the other side were a couple dozen half-inch squares lined up like crackers in a box, the majority of which were gray.

Pax pulled out one of the squares. In the center was a smaller black box that barely rose above the surface. Running out from it were tiny wires that spread over the gray square.

“See the number?” Pax asked.

Ash took a harder look. On the black box a number had been painted in gray. Hard to read, but not impossible. This square was numbered one.

“I see it.”

Pax turned the gray square around. “This other side will stick pretty much anywhere. But you’ve gotta remove this first.”

He flicked his finger across the edge, and Ash could see there was a clear plastic sheet covering the back.

“Put this wherever you need it. Then you use this thing here.” He pointed at the black cell-phone-looking device. “This is your trigger device. Interface is easy. You input the unit number, then either set it off manually or set up a timer. These things don’t create a lot of damage, but they’re quite the noisemakers. Good for diversions if you need them.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Careful, though. You see these four here?” He touched four tiles that were grouped together. Unlike the others, they were white. “These do more than just make a noise. They’re what you use if you do need damage. They’ll blow a hole in pretty much anything you’ll come across. There’s only the four, so don’t confuse them with the others.”

He closed the box and tucked it back in the case. He then gave Ash the emergency phone number Matt had mentioned, making him repeat it several times. It was an easy number. Ash knew he wouldn’t forget it.

As soon as the plane stopped rolling, Pax said, “I believe this is your stop.”

There was no one around as they stepped out of the jet. In fact, the whole airport seemed quiet and deserted. It was tucked between several green hills, and though Ash could see a few houses in the distance, there was no town visible.

Pax nodded toward the hangar. “Your ride’s right over there.”

Parked near the closed hangar door was a silver Honda Accord.

The metal case went in the trunk, while Ash put his messenger bag in the back seat. Chloe had a dark green backpack. She tossed that into the footwell up front before climbing into the passenger seat.

“You got GPS in there,” Pax told Ash. “It’s already preset to get you to the highway. Chloe will take over after that.”

He held out his hand, and Ash took it.

“You’ve been put in a terrible position, Captain,” Pax said. “Most people would have given up already. Think they crossed the wrong man when they found you.”

“Yes,” Ash said. “They did.”

Pax stepped back. “Don’t be a stranger.”

By the time Ash got the car to the airport exit, the jet was already racing down the runway and taking off.

He let the voice of the GPS guide him through the countryside. In his other life, he would have appreciated the beauty of the area, mainly because Ellen would have loved it.

I should have brought her here.

I should have brought her a lot of places.

He gritted his teeth and continued to drive.

When they finally reached the highway, the GPS stopped giving directions. Ash looked over and saw that Chloe was staring out the window.

“Which way?” he asked. It was the first thing either of them had said since they’d gotten in the car.

She didn’t move for a second, then she pulled up her head and looked over at him. “What?”

“Which way? Pax said once the GPS stopped, you’d know where to go.”

“Oh.” She leaned forward, looking out the window again, and seemed to notice their surroundings for the first time. “Where are we?”