The End of Her World

Chapter Twenty- The Helicopter

Katrina aimed the gun at Fade’s forehead, right between his eyes. “Your mother tried to kill my father! Tell me what you know. Now!”

Fade’s eyes darkened with pure hatred. “I don’t want to talk about this now,”

“Well, too bad!” screamed Katrina. “This is my father’s blood all over the floor! You have to tell me!”

“On his ID, it said to meet him at home if he ever got injured. That’s all I know about your father.” Fade growled.

Katrina lowered the gun suspiciously. “Fine. We have to steal a copter or something.”

A slow smile spread across Fade’s face. “Good. That’s why I’m here.”

Fade ran toward the nearest door, and kicked it deftly. It slid open silently. A man stood outside it. Fade wrapped his arm around his neck and flexed his muscles, breaking the soldier’s neck. He let the man slip to the floor.  He continued forward, not saying a word, grimly.

“The hanger is up ahead,” Fade said. He directed his eyes toward a black door in front of them. “Let’s go.”

Fade tried the handle; it was locked. Unsurprised, he flicked Jason’s ID out of his pocket and slid it smoothly through the pad. A green light flickered into a pinprick of existence, and the door wheeled inward.

A helicopter rested silently, sleeping, it’s eyes closed, cold and unmoving, in the center of the hanger. It’s rotors dripped with black shadows, and the sliding doors were shut. Rows upon rows of spiky missiles and guns weighed down the belly of the enormous beast that was the copter.

Above them was the open night sky, pinpricks of stars dotting the silky blue quilt of the sky. Residual pockets of dull life, flames of existence. A cool breeze fluttered across the hard iron floor, bringing the scent of fire, a searing smell that burnt Katrina to the bone.

Fade vaulted the edge of the cockpit, and picked up the helmet of the pilot. Katrina darted forward, and hurled herself into the seat. The seat was foamy, and supported her back, and was slightly damp. Confused, Katrina ran her hand over the edge of it. When she brought her fingers away from it, they were dyed with red. Blood.

Hundreds of switches sizzled to life around her, a blinking chorus of voices fighting for attention, each representing a vital organ of the plane. The rotors spun into a rough hum, and then a roar. The vibrations traveled up Katrina’s leg, and rattled her bones.

Fade flipped a switch, and pulled back on the control column. The helicopter jerked, and hovered at a crazy angle. Bile rose in the back of Katrina’s throat. Yanking the helicopter to the side, Fade punched the gas pedal and the helicopter shuddered and blasted forward, the rotors spinning furiously.

Behind them, below them, in a different world it seemed, the base came to life, red lights flashing, sirens wailing in a terrifying pitch. Guns were fired into the night sky; but Fade had already manoeuvred them out of the way.

Fade pulled off his helmet, and adjusted the controls. His black hair was spiked with sweat, and his face was calm, a new stone with no scratches. “Damn,” he said. He ran his eyes over the controls again. “I have never seen a chopper like this before.”

Katrina nodded blearily. She blinked, forcing sleep out of her eyes. “Me too,” she muttered.

A knowing smile traced across Fade’s face. “We need to sleep.” He stated quietly.

“What about flying?”

“Autopilot.”

Fade unbuckled his seatbelt, and climbed into Katrina’s seat. It was too big for just Katrina, and with Fade’s bulk there, everything was warm, and in place. His musky scent flowed into her nostrils, a type of lullaby. He wrapped his arms around her, and she closed her eyes in the warm darkness and fell asleep in Fade’s arms.