He looked over at Hernandez and scrutinized the man’s pale skin color, the sweat on his forehead, and the increasingly more pronounced lean to his left side. “Is that because of the ash plume pushing down on us, the fact that we’re practically running on fumes, or because you can’t even hold onto the stick anymore?” Jason was trying to lighten the mood, but it wasn’t possible. Everything he said was true, and there was no getting around any of it.
“We knew it was coming,” Hernandez replied without any resentment. “All of it. Though, I think it’s going to come down to a toss-up between the fuel and my ability to stay conscious.”
Leaning across the space between the seats, Jason put a hand to the skin of the other man’s face. “You’re beyond burning up,” he scoffed. Twisting around in the seat, he found Eddy was already there, watching.
“He had four Tylenol two hours ago,” he said, already anticipating Jason’s question.
Nodding, Jason grimaced and rubbed at his jaw. “Let’s give him four more. I don’t think we need to be concerned about his liver at this point. And see if anything you grabbed from the vending machine has caffeine in it.”
“There was a reason I had you help me land this thing for the past two days,” Hernandez said, ignoring the conversation about his liver. “I sincerely hope you were paying attention.”
Jason took a closer look at him, and realized they were in more trouble than he thought. Turning back to the window, he studied the landscape with a growing sense of urgency. There was nothing below them but rugged mountains, dotted with jutting peaks that reached thousands of feet into the air. It was an impressive range called the Sierra Nevada National Park. According to the map, it separated Merida from Barinas in Venezuela. They had to make it over, because as far as he could see, there wasn’t currently anywhere to land.
Jason had suggested stopping near Merida a half-hour earlier, but Hernandez wouldn’t even discuss it. It would have meant driving across the mountain range, and would have added several hours onto what was already going to be a horrendously long, arduous trip on the ground.
“You’ll get to your daughter,” Hernandez said.
Jason stared at Hernandez before offering him a tense smile. They’d had a lot of time to talk while Jason was doctoring him and doing his best to keep him going. They also had a lot in common, between the military and mutually strained relationships with their fathers. Jason was several years older than Hernandez, but it didn’t make a difference when it came to deep conversation in the middle of the destruction of the Earth. He appreciated having someone he could relate to, especially since Eddy…well, wasn’t the same man anymore.
He’d had such little interaction with Peta, Devon, and Tyler, that Jason hadn’t gotten a solid feel for them yet. While Hernandez claimed they were all good people, Peta was especially standoffish with him, except that could be Jason projecting his own hang-ups. He tended to do that, and given everything that had and was still happening, he couldn’t really be blamed for not wanting to get too close to anyone.
Hernandez was the perfect example as to why, and Jason had learned that hard lesson during his time in Iraq. It was why he had so few friends since being back in the States. There was a certain amount of sick irony to be found in his situation with Eddy. That the one person Jason allowed himself to get close to other than Marty, miraculously survived The Kuru, only to be stripped of his ability to be a true friend anymore.
Jason turned to watch Eddy as he returned with the requested medication from their limited first aid kit on the helicopter, and a bottle of Pepsi. He was unexpectedly hit with an overwhelming feeling of loss. The loss of his best friend, and then the only other person left alive he could relate to was going to be torn away from him, too.
Jason fought against the upwelling of emotion that threatened to unbalance him. He wanted out of there. Out of the helicopter, and away from Hernandez so he wouldn’t have to watch him die. Away from Eddy, so he wouldn’t have to be constantly reminded of the friend he no longer had. Away from the persistent memories of loss, and death, and suffering. He—
A cold nose pressed into his hand, and Jason looked down to find Marty sitting in the narrow space between the two seats. He didn’t realize he’d even closed his eyes, and his thin grip on reality scared him more than anything else.
“Are you okay?” Peta asked. She had replaced Eddy at some point, and Jason briefly wondered if it had been intentional, or if she was simply following the dog. She knelt down beside Marty, next to his seat, to make talking more feasible.
Jason had learned years before that the best way to address his issues were with honesty. It was too easy to try and believe your own lies if you spoke them out loud. Ignoring it would only lead to things worsening, and would ultimately put himself and others at risk. Their situation was already risky enough. “I will be,” he said, pulling Marty in close enough to reach the favorite spot behind his left ear. “I just need a minute to clear my head and get a better grip. Unfortunately, I don’t think the universe has one to spare right now.”
Studying his face, her blue eyes narrowed and then sparkled when she smiled in understanding. “I can relate.”
Surprisingly, Jason found that he believed her. That was something else he’d learned from group therapy. Once you started opening up to people, you’d often be surprised to discover how many others suffered from similar
