Page 167 of Aviatrix

And I’m left, once again, with more questions than answers.

Story of my life.

But readiness means facing whatever’s out there. Head-on. So, I move forward one step at a time. Just like I always do.

By the time I reach the mess hall, the entire base seems crammed into the room. It’s wall-to-wall bodies, but I spot Eli instantly, standing near the front with the General. He’s focused, intense, nodding at something the General says. I ache to be near him. But this isn’t the time for comfort.

Instead, I scan the room for Mom. Predictably, she’s seated next to Lark. They aren’t talking. In fact, Mom looks perturbed.

“Excuse me,” I mutter as I weave through the crowd. A few people shift aside to let me pass.

When I reach them, Mom gives me a half-hearted smile and scoots over. I slide onto the bench between her and Lark.

“Hey,” I say softly. “Thanks for the coffee.”

She runs a hand over my head, the way she used to when I was little. “You look rested. I’m glad.”

I lay my head on her shoulder, but my eyes find Lark. His five o’clock shadow has returned, and there are dark circles under his eyes.

He hasn’t slept.

He’s worried.

About Amber.

I lift my head and gently nudge him with my elbow. “Have you heard from Amber?”

He barely looks at me. “No.”

“From Sasha?”

He shakes his head.

“When we’re done here,” I whisper, “I’ll make that call to Sasha.”

Lark doesn’t respond. He just stares straight ahead like the weight of the world isn’t slowly crushing him.

“Alright,” the General’s voice booms through the room, snapping the tension like a whip. “I know many of you have questions. I’ll do my best to answer them, but time is of the essence.”

Eli catches my eye from across the way and offers a lopsided smile. I try to return it, but worry knots itself like a rope in my gut.

Amber.

I have to get her out of there.

“Here’s what I can share,” the General continues. “More alien ships have arrived. They are now positioned all over the world.”

Uh oh. I was right. This is bigger than just us.

“Contact has been made with the Pentagon and the aliens,” he says, and I curse under my breath. “We’re hoping negotiations go well. But we’re preparing for the worst.” He pauses, visibly winded.

Negotiations? Maybe I wasn’t their main contact. Good to know.

“This base is now on lockdown,” the General orders as the room collectively starts whispering. “No aircraft in or out until we receive the all clear.”

Mom reaches for my hand. Our fingers intertwine.

This is not good. We can’t be grounded. Not when Amber and Sasha might need help.