“I’m sad to say, that his daughter, well, didn’t make it,” Jason whispers.
It’s another moment of ultimate joy tempered with that of extreme sorrow. I see the soldier sink to his knees and bury his face in his hands. His wife kneels next to him with her arm around his shoulders shaking with his sobs. I know exactly how he feels. It’s not something that time heals. You learn to deal with it but that hole will remain forever.
We talk for a few moments and I extend an invitation for his group to join us if they would like. It’s mostly to fill the uncomfortable moments as the sad scene continues a short distance away. I tell Jason it would take us a couple of trips to gather all of them as we are loaded down at the moment. I notice Harold listening with interest. Jason says he will have to talk with the group but gives an indication that not many will want to leave. They have a sense of security where they’re at and are well supplied. I can understand not wanting to leave a place of security for an unknown. He extends an invitation to spend the night with the promise of an answer in the morning.
The soldier asks if he can be given leave to go with his family. I nod and let him know that we are spending the night. I let Jason know that we are used to spending the night in the aircraft but he tells us there are plenty of homes that have been cleaned up and are available. I feel a little anxious about being in an unsecured place like that. He offers to give us a tour of the place and makes vehicles available as long as we don’t leave the base. I talk it over with our group with the census coming to, “It sure would be nice to sleep in a real bed.”
It seems they are secure here and, from what I can judge by meeting others in the little town they’ve created, it seems okay. I meet with those that were assigned to the base and provide security. They report they have had little problems with the changelings and seeing they are “feeding” them today, they don’t anticipate any difficulties. Still anxious but understanding the others wanting to sleep on a comfortable bed, I let them stay. I’ll remain with the aircraft along with Robert and Bri. I tell the team members that if anything happens, they are to make for the aircraft. I also arrange for us to maintain radio contact. And, with that, we dine with the others here and adjourn to our sleeping quarters.
I radio Lynn on the sat phone before turning in. Oranges, reds, and purples paint the sky behind the mountains rising in the west, bathing the cockpit with the last of the day’s rays. We secure the aircraft and make a last radio call to the teams.
“I hope you are enjoying that cot, Jack. Don’t think about me sinking into this pillow top mattress,” Greg says.
“I hope you sleep well. Don’t lose any sleep thinking I might just take off on you in the middle of the night,” I respond.
“You wouldn’t do that. You’d miss me too much,” Greg replies.
“Yeah, I would. And by that, I mean no, I wouldn’t. That popping sound you’d hear would be a bottle of bubbly opening and me celebrating.”
I set the radio by my side making sure the volume is up and turn off the aircraft battery. The kids and I lay in our bunks talking for a few hours before we drift off.
The moon hangs bright and crisp in the velvet black sky. The pinpoints of light that share the night sky are lost from view directly around it from its brilliant glow. The sharpness above goes with the brisk evening below. It and the stars suspend over the earth, witnesses to all that transpire below but not caring. They have their thing to do and those below have theirs. They wheel about the sky as they’ve done for time immemorial. Those below are relatively new to the universe and therefore merit little of their attention. Their trials and glories are short-lived by comparison.
All of that is lost on her as she deals with her own struggles. She is separated from her pack. Those that survived the quick but brutal fight with a large pack of four-legged ones fled. The others that were members of her pack lie on the darkened street where they fell, bathed in the silver glow of the tingly, bright light hovering in the night sky above. She is at least thankful that the four-legged ones fled as well or she wouldn’t be around to have these thoughts.
She and her pack were out hunting when they found themselves tracked and then beset upon. The night hunt had already been a long one, the fight short, and now the time of darkness is drawing to an end. She is badly injured and crawling across the hard pavement as she has been doing for some time. Realizing that time is not on her side, tired and in pain, she reaches out to struggle another couple of inches.
Pain flares inside at the movement but she must make it to shelter before the bright, burning light rises, signaling the end of her time outside. She has felt the agony of it for a fleeting second before and has no desire to experience that again. It’s like a hand on the burner that is quickly withdrawn but the memory of it lasts forever.
She slowly raises her head to see she is close to the side of the hard path. Ahead is high grass with an abandoned two-legged lair beyond. That is her goal, her salvation, shelter from an excruciating, painful end. With a grunt to mask the pain that shoots through her body, she pushes up and over the small rise at the edge of the street. She then collapses again waiting for the pain to subside. Behind her, a dark smear along the pavement marks her path. It doesn’t look far but, to her, it seems like she has been crawling for an eternity. She looks at the distance she’s traveled and eyes the shelter ahead. A measure of despair and fear, the feelings different to an extent to what we’d know as feelings, enters as the distance looks impossible.
With the pain reaching a tolerable level once again, she stretches her arms forward, lifts up slightly, and pulls herself forward a little more. That’s the way it’s been for hours — reach, rise, pull, collapse, wait… reach, rise… Her senses tell her she doesn’t have long which pushes her to greater endeavors — reach, rise, pull, collapse, wait. The pain she is feeling now is nothing to what she’ll feel if she doesn’t reach the lair.
Her mind reaches out but the only packs she senses are far away with many already heading back to the lair. She’ll get no help there. Reach, rise, pull, collapse, wait. The white hot pain encompasses her entire body, flooding her mind with the shooting agony. Reach, rise, pull, collapse, wait. She makes it to the edge of the grass and, with another effort, enters it. The safety of the lair draws closer.
It’s a race against time. Distance is her enemy and will-power her only tool. She wants to just lie down and give up. The desire to live won’t let her. She has no idea how she’ll enter the lair just a short distance away but will deal with that when she gets there. First things first, she has to make it there. One thing at a time. Reach, rise, pull, collapse, wait. She knows she is badly injured and not even sure her body will make it through the night. That worry will be dealt with later. She does feel her life force ebbing from her with each effort. Each exertion tires her even more and she feels her energy being sapped. Reach, rise, pull, collapse, wait.
Her surroundings are lost from view in the tall grass. The world has collapsed down to the foot she can see around her. The next few inches of progress require her entire focus. Off into the distance, she can barely hear the shrieks from the returning packs. A few howls of the four-legged ones drift on the night air. A hissing scream issues from nearby as two feral animals meet and fight for territory. Reach, rise, pull, collapse, wait.
Her senses tell her that the sky toward the high rises of land is lightening. She has made it far but her crawling isn’t the only thing that has been moving. Time has followed her every effort. She feels a trickle of blood escape from her lips, hanging down from her mouth in a long string. Pain grips her insides as the throws up a mixture of liquid and the remains of the little food in her, hitting the ground with a splash. Reach, rise, pull, collapse, wait.
She can’t see anything but the very top of the shelter ahead, appearing to loom over the top of the reeds. She’s close and a small amount of hope enters. Along with that measure, another tearing pain grips her and she slowly folds into a ball attempting to ward off the agony. With a small part of her mind that is still hers through the pain, she tries to will the hurt to go away. She needs to keep moving. Her panting breath is the only sound as the misery begins to ebb. On her side, she makes out the blackness of the night sky lighten, becoming the dark blue of the impending day. Her heart races with fear.
Uncoiling, she pulls herself another foot. She wishes her legs would work so she could push off and not have to rely totally on her arms, but she lost the feeling in those long ago. The stalks of grass surrounding her become more defined as the light increases. Panic enters her mind and she reaches out again, the dread of what is coming overpowering the pain to an extent. More of the shelter appears. She’s close and her mind begins to have thoughts of how to enter. Hope increases. Reach, rise, pull, collapse, wait… closer by another few inches.
A flare of golden light strikes the top of the lair and then the grass, slowly traversing down the stalks. She shrieks with fear and despair. Reach, rise, pull, collapse, wait. The light from the bright, burning ball inches slowly downward. Reach, rise, pull, collapse, wait… Reach, rise, pull, collapse, wait.
