Jackson Ford - Random Sh*t Flying Through the Air

One of the soldiers grabs my wrist. I’m so wired that I nearly brain him with a nearby tent pole, but he just jabs a black permanent marker at my hand, marking the back of it. I’m sure there’s a reason for it, some system they’ve devised, but I’m fucked if I can figure it out.

“What is our plan?” Africa says. He and the others have all received similar marks.

Annie runs a hand through her hair. The damp air has frizzed it, sending it out in weird directions – mine isn’t doing much better. “I’ll, um – I’ll take Reggie to the medical tent. Africa, Teags – you guys try find us something to eat and drink.”

“Annie, I don’t know if they’ll give two of us enough for four people,” I say.

“Figure it out,” she snaps. “When you’re done, I’ll meet you there.” She points to a section of the bleachers on our right, a relatively clear one, just beyond where third base would be.

As it turns out, we can’t go our separate ways yet. The way the tents are, we’re forced to walk in an uncomfortable group around the edge of the field. “Eh, Teggan,” Africa whispers at me. “What is the plan?”

“Annie already told you. We’ll go find some sandwiches or whatever they’re dishing out.”

“No no. About the boy. On the video.”

“I dunno.”

“We cannot just do nothing, huh? We the only ones who know. I think maybe—”

“Jesus-fuck, Idriss , give it a rest.”

I don’t mean to shout at him, but I am reaching the end of my tether, and I like to think that particular tether is pretty long.

I expect him to subside, like he always does. Instead, he gives me a weird look – almost disappointed. I turn away from him, keep trudging, feet squishing into what’s left of the muddy grass. Forget food – I would sell my stomach for a pair of dry shoes.

“Medical tent’s over there,” Annie says, when we reach a gap. “Teagan, take Africa and – wait, did you guys hear that?”

Africa bends his head, as if listening hard. “Ya, I think so. Teggan, here.” He shoves Reggie into my arms, so suddenly that I nearly drop her.

“I’m not a sack of grain,” Reggie snarls.

Annie isn’t listening. She’s got a finger to her ear, head bent.

“Move it along,” a soldier says from somewhere to my right.

“Yeah, just a second.” Annie bends her head even further.

“Yo, Annie,” I say. “What’s—?”

Then I hear it too. Our earpieces have still been connected this whole time, although we obviously didn’t need them on the bike ride down to Venice. And because we were so close, there was minimal interference. But now… now there’s a crackle on the line. I can barely hear it over the noise around us, but it’s there.

And then, out of nowhere, a voice. Intermittent and crackly, but…

“—can you read me, I—”

“Paul.” Annie starts moving again, quick steps. “Paul!”

A few seconds of silence. Then Paul’s voice, stunned. “—if you can hear me—at the—”

“I hear you!” She actually laughs. “We’re in the stadium too. Where are you?”

“—west bleacher – row twenty-thr—”

Annie doesn’t wait for the rest. She takes off, ignoring the three of us, heading for the bleachers.

Africa’s eyes are wide. Despite our ugly exchange earlier, there’s a stunned, almost goofy smile on his face.

“So,” I say to Reggie. “You still wanna go to medical, or—?”

“Forget that,” she mutters. “I want to see the reunion as much as you do.”

We find Paul higher up in the bleachers, far back enough that he’s under the angled roof, out of the rain. His arm is in a blue medical brace, his shirt is torn, and his face is covered in a thin film of dirt. None of which stops Annie nearly knocking him over. She wraps her arms around him, buries her face in his shoulder, rocking from side to side. She’s making the strangest sound – a kind of gasping sob. Paul holds her tight.

At first, I don’t understand why she’s so emotional. Paul’s ex-Navy. He can handle himself, even when he’s stranded at an airport with a broken arm in the aftermath of a massive earthquake. Even I knew that. But for all of these past few hours – through all the chaos and insanity, finding the Boutique destroyed, discovering that the quake was caused by a person – which is still so terrifying I don’t want to think about it – Annie’s hardly mentioned Paul. She pushed all her worry down into a tiny part of herself, held it there, not letting it budge an inch this whole time.

All at once, she rips out of Paul’s grip, shoves him hard enough to nearly make him stumble. “You piece of shit, don’t you ever tell me to leave you again, I will slap the taste out your mouth.”

“…OK?”

“And don’t you fucking dare say you love me. I will break your other arm.” Then she grabs him a second time, kisses him, long and hard.

“Hey there, neighbours,” he says to us, when Annie finally lets him go.

“Boss!” Africa roars the word with delight. He lowers Reggie carefully onto one of the seats, thrusts his hand out to shake Paul’s. Unfortunately, Paul’s right arm is his injured one. When Africa realises, he snorts with laughter, claps Paul on his good shoulder. “Thought you left us, huh?”

I flash Paul a smile. “’Sup, Jasmine.”

The corners of his mouth flick ever so slightly upwards. “Hey there.”

“How’s the head?” I say.

He shrugs. “Better. I definitely have a concussion, but they think it’s minor. Or at least, they don’t believe I’m going to drop dead on them.”

“You sure? You were pretty out of it back there…”

“No, I’m good. Hurts to look at lights for too long, but I think I got off easy.” His eyes go wide. “The office. Did you—?”

“Toast,” Annie’s gone back to hugging him, her voice muffled by his shoulder.

“ What? ”

“Yeah,” I say. “Guess the construction guys owe us a refund.”

“I have someone,” Africa says. “When we build it again, I know a company. I am friends with the CEO. He’ll give us good price – it will be even better than before.”

After a little more hugging, Annie gets busy, flipping open the laptop and screening the video. Paul absorbs it silently, his expression not even changing as the kid cocoons himself and his mom in dirt. When the video is done, he leans back on the plastic seats. Scratches his chin. “We’re sure?”

“You saw the video,” Reggie says.

“You don’t think that maybe—?”

“Paul, I’m positive. It was the boy.”

“Not his mother?” He glances at me. “A person Teagan’s age would make sense, we saw that with Jake, but a child…”

“Trust me, I’m as weirded out as you are,” I tell him.

He lowers his eyes, and I can almost see the gears turning; the mental whiteboard, rapidly filling with mind maps and brainstorms and long, intricate lists.

“OK,” he says eventually. “Everybody huddle up.”

There are a few seconds of awkward silence, the rest of us glancing at one another. Mostly because we are already standing pretty close together in the narrow line of seats, and it’s a little hard to figure out what he wants us to do.

He realises this. “Never mind. Our first priority is to inform Tanner. I’m guessing she doesn’t know yet, right?”

Annie glances at Reggie, shakes her head.

“We’ll need a satellite phone,” Paul continues. “Some type of communication, anyway. There’s military presence, and I’m guessing they’ll have a line out.”

“I will find us a phone,” Africa says, squaring his shoulders.

Paul talks over him. “But before we do that, we actually have something more important to discuss.”