D. MacHale - Storm

“Not here you’re not. You’re going back to Area 51. Now. Right now.”

The pilot gave a questioning glance to Feit.

“Let me see,” Feit said. “That would be… no.”

I fired the weapon at the plane’s console, blasting out two of the video monitors.

Feit and the pilot threw themselves out of their chairs for protection.

“Those jets may protect you from SYLO,” I said. “But they can’t get to me. You’ve got a choice. Turn this thing around and fly back to Area 51, or I’ll take it down right here. One way you lose this plane and die. The other way you give yourself a chance.”

“Take this down and you die too,” Feit said, though with a hint of genuine concern.

I answered by firing two more shots into the console, hoping I wasn’t hitting anything vital.

“A Retro said we primates were already dead, we just didn’t know it yet. I guess that means we have nothing to lose. If we go down, so be it, but we are not going to Los Angeles.”

I raised the baton, aiming it directly at Feit’s head.

I saw terror in his eyes.

I loved it.

“Bring us around,” Feit ordered the pilot.

“But, sir,” the pilot protested. “We’ll face court martial—”

“We’ll deal,” Feit shot back. “Bring us around.”

“Yes, sir,” the pilot said and crawled back into his seat.

After a few swipes of his finger on a screen, the plane banked hard. We were constantly being buffeted by the force of missiles that were exploding all around us. I had to have faith that the Retro fighters would continue to protect us… even though the mission had been aborted.

“I’m getting questions,” the pilot said as he touched his ear. He was being contacted by someone. “They want to know why we’re coming about.”

Feit said, “Tell them we’re having technical difficulties.” He gave me a snide smile and added, “I’d call this a technical difficulty.”

“Step on it,” I said.

“Isn’t there somewhere else you’d like to go?” Feit asked sarcastically. “The Bahamas? Paris? Sydney? You’ve got the most advanced aircraft ever created. Let’s take it for a spin.”

“Area 51 will do just fine,” I said. “Not that I don’t trust you, but you’ve got ten minutes to get us there. If we don’t make it by then…”

I raised the baton threateningly.

I felt a slight surge of power as the pilot accelerated. The ground sped by in a blur. There were fewer explosions and no jets in sight. SYLO must have thought that they had repelled the dark invader.

“Why are you here, Feit?” Tori asked. “I thought you were all about slave labor and rebuilding. Does this mean you get your hands dirty with the killing too?”

Feit didn’t answer. It was the first time that he wasn’t quick to run off at the mouth.

“I’ll take a guess,” I said. “I think you’re a bigger part of this deranged mission than you’ve let on. If you’re on the deck of this new plane, you’re not just some officer who’s carrying out orders.”

“I’m flattered,” Feit said. “Is that why you keep following me?”

“I guess it is,” I said.

“How do you feel, Tucker?” he asked, regaining some of his confidence. “Did it feel good to shatter my nose? And shoot at me? Which is better? Causing physical pain, or knowing that you outmaneuvered me this time? Does revenge feel as good as you imagined it would?”

I didn’t answer right away. Feit really was an expert on human behavior. He knew what was driving me. I wanted to give him an honest answer, but first I had to decide for myself how I actually felt.

“What do you say, dude?” Feit pressed. “Doesn’t revenge feel great?”

“No,” I said. “But it will.”

The smile fell from Feit’s face. For a change, he wasn’t laughing.

Time was running out.

I glanced down to see that we were back in the desert and flying over the desolate landscape. I noticed a few shadows streak by below us and looked to the remaining video monitors.

We were being escorted by Retro fighters.

“One minute out,” the pilot announced.

I glanced at my watch. Five minutes till the boom.

“What happens when we land?” Feit asked.

“Nothing,” I replied. “Set down in the middle of the base, and we’ll all get off.”

“And then?”

“Then Tori and I leave.”

Tori stood up and limped over to me.

“Can you walk?” I asked.

“It hurts,” she said. “But I can move.”

“You’re a lousy shot,” she said to the pilot.

The pilot ignored her.

The base appeared below us. The plane slowed and hovered above the runway, then began its descent.

“What are you going to do, Tucker?” Feit asked. “You realize there’s nowhere to hide.”

“Who said anything about hiding?” I said. “Maybe you’re the one who should be looking for cover.”

Feit laughed, but his heart wasn’t in it. He knew something was going on but had no idea what it was.

The landing tripod extended, and with a thump, the plane set down. I heard the whine of the engines as the ramp was lowered to the ground.

“Everybody out,” I said.

My heart was racing. I stole a quick look at my watch. Three minutes left.

Feit and the pilot walked ahead of us down the ramp.

I held the black weapon in one hand and had my other arm around Tori’s waist to help her walk. She was in pain, but she wouldn’t admit it. We walked down the ramp and didn’t stop, moving past Feit and the pilot.

“That’s it?” Feit asked, genuinely surprised. “You’re just going to walk off into the desert?”

“That’s it,” I said and picked up the pace. “See ya!”

“How big is this going to be?” Tori whispered to me.

“No idea.”

The pilot had set us down in the middle of a nest of idle planes. The survivors may have disabled hundreds of them, but that had barely dented the fleet. Any one of them could have come after us.

I picked up the pace, but it was hard for Tori to move any faster.

Retro fighters hovered over the giant plane like vultures.

“How much time?” she asked.

“One minute.”

I glanced back at Feit.

He stared after us, looking confused. He sensed that something was wrong, that he had missed something, but he didn’t dare come after us. He knew we’d both shoot him without a second thought.

We hurried past an endless row of Retro fighters.

“If the charge tears into the power plant,” I said, “there’s not going to be much left of that plane.”

“Or us,” Tori said nervously.

Headlights appeared in front of us, headed our way. I feared it was a Retro plane coming to life but realized it was too small… and too loud.

Tori lifted the pistol, but I put my hand on hers to push it away.

“Don’t bother,” I cautioned.

“We can’t let them recapture us,” Tori cried.

“I don’t think we have to worry about that,” I said. “Retros don’t drive dune buggies.”

Tori squinted ahead, trying to make out detail as the headlights grew closer.

“Survivors?” she asked.

The buggy sped up to us, and for a second I thought it was going to run us down, but the driver flew by and skidded to a stop, spinning the buggy until it faced back the other way.

“Kent!” Tori exclaimed.

“Need a lift?” Kent asked.

I jumped into the seat next to him and pulled Tori down on top of me.

“Drive!” I demanded.

“What?”

“Go!” Tori shouted. “Punch it! Get us out of here!”

Kent didn’t get it, but he obeyed. He jammed his foot down on the gas and launched us on our way.

I looked back to see that Feit was watching. He took a dazed step toward us. I could sense the wheels turning in his head, calculating the facts. He knew something was wrong. Suddenly, he spun around and ran back up the ramp. The pilot was right behind him.