Emmy Laybourne - Savage Drift

“He said don’t worry about the headgear,” I said. “So Jake’s probably right.”

“Oooh, he said I’m right,” Jake lisped, mocking me.

Getting dressed in the tiny chamber, along with three other people, wasn’t easy.

When we were all geared up, and looking pretty ridiculous, I might add, Niko tapped on the door.

The giant pilot opened it up.

“Took y’all long enough,” he said. “Come on out.”

Niko must have looked timid, because he added, “Stand tall and proud. Confident. You’ve as much a right to be here as anyone else.”

He helped Niko down, then me, adding, “As least that’s what we want folks to think. My name’s Edward Francois Roufa, the third. But y’all can call me Roufa. Everyone does.”

Jake hopped down from the cockpit.

When Roufa took Astrid’s hand he gave her half a smile, “Pleasure to meet you, miss. Hank’s told me all ’bout you and the others.”

Roufa looked Astrid over in the suit.

“Nice and baggy, just like I hoped,” he said.

The protective suits were very loose, and because the material was so thin, they sort of bloused out. The belt was needed to keep the material close to the body, as well as hold the cartridges. Otherwise you’d be wearing a gauzy cloud.

There was lots of activity on the tarmac, even though it was the middle of the night now.

“Excuse me sir,” Astrid ventured. “We were wondering… about the suits…”

“Protocol, sweetie. Everyone here is required to keep one on at all times. Waste of money, if you ask me.”

Night crews were servicing helicopters around us.

I saw everyone had safety suits like ours. Most of them wore their safety suits tied off at the waist, instead of fully on, like us.

“This way,” Roufa said, ushering us toward a metal hangar. Just as we walked away, a jeep with a flatbed pulled up to the back of McKinley’s chopper. Two men went to the chopper and opened it, starting to inventory the boxes inside.

“Guess that timed out pretty well, considering,” Roufa quipped.

“Can you tell us where we’re going?” Niko asked. “Where you’re taking us?”

“I’m taking the four of you to Lackland Air Force Base. Believe it or not, I rearranged my schedule to fly at this godforsaken hour. Running a bunch of medical supplies and more of these fancy ki-mo-nos you’re wearing down to Lackland.”

Soldiers and workers passed us as we walked. One or two shot glances our way, but most were busy.

How many Air Force and Army personnel had stuck their necks out for us so far? Roufa made four. No, five if you counted Pete.

I hoped they were good at covering their tracks.

“Lackland in San Antonio?” Jake asked.

“The very same,” Roufa answered.

“San Antone is maybe three hours away from my mom’s place in La Porte!” Jake said.

“Well, that’s good, son. My advice is to get there, find yourself a good doctor, and hole up with your girl for a while,” Roufa said. “I guess we’re all pretty inspired by your story. McKinley told me what y’all did for his kids. I even saw your newspaper story. It’ll be nice to get you settled somewhere nice and cozy.”

“We’re headed to Pennsylvania,” Astrid said pointedly.

She gave me a smile.

I could’ve kissed her.

Jake rolled his eyes, pissed.

Roufa held up a hand. “Don’t tell me your plans; I’d rather not know ’em.”

We skirted a giant, truly gigantic hangar and went over to a row of parked vehicles.

Roufa got into a jeep and gave an underhanded wave, motioning for us all to get in.

“Hey!” came a voice. “Wait!”

It was Captain McKinley. He jogged over to the jeep.

“Roufa-man!” McKinley said. He was grinning. The two men hugged.

“I can’t thank you enough for this,” McKinley said.

“It’s nothin’ you wouldn’t do for me,” Roufa answered seriously. He clapped McKinley on the shoulder and gave him a shake. They were really good friends, it was easy to see.

“They’re asking questions inside. I gotta get back,” he told us. “Ed will get you safe to Texas. From there you’re on your own.”

Everyone chimed in thanking Captain McKinley and saying good-bye, but he still hadn’t answered my question.

He started to walk away, waving to us.

“Captain McKinley,” I said, raising my voice. “Before you go, did you really see Astrid slated for removal? Were they going to take her away?”

Captain McKinley walked back to us, the smile slowly fading from his face.

“I did, Dean. They were going to take her tonight. If you’d stayed, she’d be drugged and on her way to USAMRIID right now.”

“Oh,” Astrid said and gulped. “Oh.”

“Yeah. And… I couldn’t let that happen to Mommy Junior,” he said.

Captain McKinley’s voice was full of emotion.

He patted the jeep.

“Good-bye, you kids. Good luck!”

Between Alex’s nest egg, the cash Mrs. Dominguez had given us, Jake’s poker winnings, and Henry’s five dollars—we had a grand total of $418.

“How much do you think?” Niko asked us, counting off bills.

“Two hundred?” I said, unsure.

“One fifty,” Jake cut in. “Trust me, one fifty’s fine.”

We drove away from the large planes, onto an outlying tarmac.

We stopped in front of a large beige cargo plane.

“This is for the crew,” Niko said, holding out the little wad of cash.

“What? Well. That’s very kind of you. They’ll appreciate it.”

There definitely were plenty of crew members around.

Two workers were running checks on the engine. The tail of the plane was flipped up to reveal the cargo space inside and there was a ramp leading out of it.

Another guy drove a jeep up into the belly of the plane. The jeep was fitted with a big, strange contraption. Two huge tanks were hooked up to some kind of compressor. Hoses and cables were wrapped in loops, hanging off the side. Most of them led to a giant funnel that sat on top of the machine.

What the heck was it?

“You all head to the nose. There’s a gangplank there. My copilot will help you up. It’s a lady copilot. Leslie Fox. She’s nice.”

Roufa headed off toward the crew with our money.

We climbed out of the jeep and went over to the gangplank.

Captain Fox, a thin, pretty blond woman in her late thirties, maybe, got us seated in the cargo area. She seemed okay. Hardly said a word to us, just showed us into the cargo area from the open cockpit door.

There were four more of those jeeps inside the body of the plane. That’s how big it was.

There were jump seats on either wall of the plane. Most were folded up, but Fox folded them down.

The only thing Fox said was to Astrid.

“You need a special seat belt,” and she switched out a part of the harness on Astrid’s belt for one that wouldn’t cut across her belly.

“Try to get some sleep,” she told Astrid. Then she handed us all noise-blocking earphones.

And somehow, we did manage to sleep. At least I did.

“We’re here,” Roufa shouted over the engine’s thrum. He nudged us awake with his boot. “Landing soon, sleepyheads.”

I had drool on my shoulder. A big wet spot. I wiped it off.

Of course Jake saw me.

“Nice,” he mouthed.

I mouthed back a popular two-word curse phrase.

The landing was bumpy. Not like flying in a jet airliner at all.

The jeeps bounced on their shocks, jostling the strange contraptions they carried.

“When we land, I want you four to just get out and walk directly into the brush. You’ll see what I mean. Walk straight and you’ll come out on a street near government housing. Take your suits off then. Keep walking and you’ll find yourself in town.”