Eric Walters - The Rule of Three

Now I had a close-up view of the ground racing by beneath me. Houses and stores alternately lined the route on both sides of the road. I caught split-second glimpses of broken windows or smashed doors. I could see where more than one building had been set on fire. Not all of those could have been accidents.

I could also see all sorts of people, looking around as they heard me coming, sometimes staring up into the sky before spinning to see me. I was so low that I could see their faces. They looked curious or amused, and always a little shocked. In a world where not much of anything mechanical was moving, I was flying! I was probably the only thing in the sky above the whole city. Now I just had to stay in the sky.

Then again, maybe I shouldn’t even try. I should just bring it down while I could. If I could find a stretch of road long enough, I’d land, run straight to the neighborhood, and bring back my car, some extra gas, and enough support to protect us all. I’d just have to hope that my plane would still be there and in one piece. Of course, that was assuming that both of us were in one piece after I landed. I listened for the engine. It still sounded like it was getting enough fuel. I’d keep pushing forward.

As much as I was worried about crashing I was almost equally worried about my mother’s reaction. I just hoped she didn’t even know I was up here. Okay, that was being ridiculous. I’d taken off from our street in front of dozens of our neighbors, and I’d waved at a whole bunch of other people as if I were the Queen of England. If my mother didn’t know right now, she’d know soon enough and I’d have to figure out what to say to her. But I couldn’t think of that now. I needed to focus—did the plane’s engine just flutter? Was I almost out of gas? I tilted my head to the side and listened. It didn’t sound any different, did it? I gave it a little pulse of gas to rev the engine up. It sounded good.

Erin Mills Parkway appeared below, and I crossed over and started my curve into the neighborhood, heading toward my street. I accelerated a little bit more to compensate for the speed lost through the banking. I couldn’t risk stalling out. Crashing because I had no gas would be unavoidably stupid, but crashing because I was coming in too slowly was just stupid.

Up ahead I could make out the individual houses. There were the two that framed my street, my landing strip.

Underneath me were houses in the subdivision just north of our neighborhood. I was so low I could almost reach down and touch their chimneys. The highway came up below. I was almost there. My street was just ahead. Even if the engine died now, I’d still have enough momentum at least to crash-land in the neighborhood.

I adjusted my course to correct for a slight crosswind, keeping the nose of the plane aimed right between my marker houses. All I needed now was just one more little squirt of liquid into the carburetor—heck, even the fumes should get me home from here.

I passed over the wall, so low I could recognize the sentries, and see their open-mouthed faces. I eased off the throttle even more, just keeping enough speed to avoid stalling. Fifteen feet up… ten feet. I leveled off a little to get across the intersection and onto my street. I looked forward and I could see my house—and Lori and my mother and Herb standing on the front lawn.

Deliberately I looked away from them and back to my task, focusing on the road coming up toward me. Less than ten feet, now lower than five. I had to touch down now or overshoot the street and end up on somebody’s lawn. I pulled the stick slightly toward me to lift the nose up, and the wheels hit the road and bounced a little and then settled down. I eased off the throttle and put pressure on the brakes.

“Come on, slow down, slow down,” I yelled at the plane, and it seemed to listen. It came to a stop, with five houses’ worth of road to spare.

“Thank you,” I said to the plane. I looked skyward. “Thank you as well.”

I reached for the kill switch to turn off the engine, but before I could touch it the engine coughed, sputtered, and died. That could mean only one thing. I was out of gas. I undid my seat belt and climbed out as my mother, Lori, Herb, and a bunch of my neighbors rushed toward me. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was going to say, but I knew I wasn’t going to mention the empty tank.

“You shouldn’t have done that!” my mother shouted. “You know that.”

I nodded. There was no point in arguing. She was right. I stood there next to the plane, looking down, trying not to say anything to get her madder and embarrass me further in front of all the neighbors who were standing around watching. Then I saw the twins come barreling out of the house, shouting in excitement.

“I’m so angry and so relieved all at once I don’t know whether I should hit you or hug you.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I just didn’t think that—”

“You’re right, you just didn’t think!” she exclaimed. “What if you had crashed?”

“But I didn’t. It flew, the way Dad and I knew it would.”

“What do you think your father would say to you if he were here right now?” she demanded.

“He would have yelled at me, and then congratulated me… and then wanted to fly with me. He had faith in our plane and faith in my ability to fly it.”

“ I have faith,” Danny said, jumping into the conversation. “Can you take me up?”

“Take me instead!” Rachel exclaimed. “You know you like me better than—”

“He’s not taking either of you,” our mother said, cutting her off. She let out a big sigh.

“It’s not that I don’t have faith, young man.” She paused and I waited anxiously for what was going to come next. “Actually, I can’t believe what I’m going to say. I need you to fly me somewhere.”

“What did you say?”

“I need you to fly me somewhere.”

“And then can he take me?” Danny asked.

She silenced him with a glare.

“Or maybe not,” he said.

“Where do you want to go?”

“To the other precinct station.”

I was so surprised I didn’t say anything.

“Can you do it?”

“Um, I could get you there in thirty minutes, but I don’t know if there’s a place I can put down when I get there.”

“I don’t want you to put down. I just have to see it.”

Herb stepped forward. “There have been rumors, Adam.”

“What do you mean?” Lori asked.

“Let’s talk in a little more private spot,” my mother whispered. “Danny and Rachel, I want you to watch the ultralight.”

She walked away and Herb, Lori, and I followed, leaving my ultralight—and the twins—behind. She stopped when we had separated from the crowd gathered around it.

“I really shouldn’t say until I’ve got confirmation,” Mom said. “I don’t want to spread false information.”

“It’s only the four of us,” Herb said. “Nobody is going to spread anything.”

She didn’t answer right away. Then she sighed. “I heard that it was gone.”

“Gone? How can the station be gone?” I asked.

“Not gone. That’s the wrong word. No longer in use… abandoned. I have to find out if that’s true.”

“You do have to find out,” Herb said. “But maybe you shouldn’t be the one to go.”

“I can’t send Adam there by himself.”

“He won’t be by himself. I’ll go with him,” Herb said.

“No, it’s my responsibility. I’m the commanding officer.”

“That’s why you can’t go. You need to be at your command. Besides, you’re also a mother and you have children who need you, especially when their father isn’t here.”