Dusk had come far too quickly.
Even though he'd had several hours to prepare, Jett wasn't the least bit ready. He wanted to tell Mystery Man to turn the truck around and go back to the farmhouse. Or just slow the truck down so that Jett could throw himself out the passenger door without killing himself. Any option would work, as long as he didn't have to go through with this.
"You okay there?"
The voice sounded slightly amused or concerned; it was kind of hard to tell. Jett's nerves were already firing at max capacity and it took all his focus to not curl up into a ball in the seat and wail. He managed to glance over at the owner of the voice.
Mystery Man looked completely relaxed behind the driver's wheel. One hand rested lightly on the wheel, casually steering while the other tapped lazily on the gear shift. He looked over at Jett, brows lifted in question.
There were a hundred ways to answer that, all in a negative way, but Jett merely said, "Yeah."
"You sure?" Mystery Man stared at him, not even taking a precautionary glance at the road. "You look a little pale."
"I'm fine," Jett said, a little too quickly. It didn't sound convincing in the slightest. In truth, he felt awful. Not only did he feel a little lightheaded from the nerves, but he also felt a heavy discomfort in his gut. Nausea came and went in brief flashes, and he was already regretting that he had pigged out so much on the food Calli had brought. Especially that delicious milk - he should have saved at least half of it for later instead of devouring all of it.
"Nervous?" Mystery Man finally glanced at the road for a full half second.
Jett grimaced, then admitted it. "A bit."
Mystery Man actually chuckled, seemingly amused by the admission. "There's no need to be. If you're worried about being recognized, take another look at yourself. No one will be able to tell you're a flyer now."
Jett glanced down at his knees, which no longer wore the familiar, comforting white.
In order to hide his suit, he'd been given a blue plaid shirt and a pair of overalls. Both were a couple sizes too big, so they were baggy and hung on his small frame, but at least they hid the majority of his suit effectively. A red handkerchief wrapped around his neck covered the collar of his suit that the shirt couldn't, and a ball cap pulled low on his head helped obscure his face.
To complete his disguise, he'd removed the eye-catching white gloves and did his best to scuff his white boots with as much mud and dirt as possible. Now they looked like a dirty gray mess, but their unique design wouldn't fool anyone from Troit if they took a close enough look.
"Just relax. Everything will be fine. You'll see."
Easy for you to say. You're not the one breaking into a military prison. His stomach heaved, and Jett grimaced. He really was not feeling well. Wetting his lips, he leaned forward to snag a water bottle off the floor of the truck.
He drained half of it in one go, but he still felt somewhat thirsty. Sighing softly, he closed the cap and set it back on the floor. He was getting too anxious over this whole thing. Sure, it was risky, but if things went downhill, couldn't he just run away?
With that thought in mind, he managed to relax a little. Everything will be fine. If Mystery Man said so, then it must be true. A inner voice started mocking him, telling him he was being stupid. Jett very purposefully kicked that snarky little voice in the face and mentally ordered it to shut up.
YOU ARE READING
Sequel to I AM A FLYER The common people fear and loathe him, yet he's determined to protect them. The military organization that he betrayed calls for his death. And the madman who has begun sending out armies of mechanical warriors to burn the w...