Page 198 of Aviatrix

Eli stands at my side, his hand warm in mine. Lark is to my left, hands clasped behind his back. Thea stands off to Scooter’s right. Sasha, Amber, Mom, and a handful of flyers gather quietly behind us.

“I tried to prepare something to say,” Scooter begins, each word heartbreaking, “but how do you sum up my dad in a few sentences? It’s impossible.”

I nod, throat thick. There wasn’t much Gary couldn’t do. He was a phenomenal pilot, a brilliant strategist, and a fiercely loyal friend. He never chased a higher-up position like Lark. He preferred the field, preferred rookies.

His loss isn’t just personal, it’s a devastating blow to all the future flyers who’ll never have the chance to learn from him.

Scooter tries to hold in his emotion, but it gets the best of him. His throat catches, and he can’t continue.

I step forward, gently slipping my hand from Eli’s.

“Are you okay if I finish?” I ask Scooter quietly.

He nods, unable to speak.

I take a deep breath. “Atlas was more than a co-worker or a leader. He was family. The guy you always wanted in your corner, even if you didn’t always understand what he was doing.”

I pause as the sun breaks through the clouds, bathing us in a warm, golden glow.

“He didn’t care about power, or titles, or medals,” I continue. “He cared about us. About people. About teaching and pushing others to be better. Not because it made him look good, but because he truly believed in who we could become.”

Scooter half-laughs, half-sobs.

Thea exhales softly. “He was the best.”

“Atlas gave me more than guidance, he gave me VAL. He gave me a piece of my dad,” I go on, as the sun shifts behind the clouds again. Somewhere between sky and grief, I find the strength to keep going. “He always believed in me. Even when I didn’t believe in myself. He gave me something rare in this world—unconditional loyalty.” I swallow. “And then he gave the ultimate sacrifice. He gave his life to save ours. To save countless others by warning them what was coming.”

A tear slips down my cheek.

“There’s nothing I can say that will ever make that okay. But I can promise you this, Fox, your dad didn’t die for nothing. He didn’t just sacrifice himself so we could escape. He did it because he believed what we were doing mattered. That we had a shot at making this world better.” I pause to look around at everyone. “So, we’ll carry that torch. For him. For all of us. Fly high, Atlas. We’ve got it from here.”

Silence settles over us as Scooter opens the lid. One by one, we each take a handful of Gary’s ashes. They’re coarse and light in my hands. So much lighter than the weight of this moment.

And when Scooter’s ready, we scatter him into the valley below. One by one. A quiet farewell.

Gary wasn’t just an aviator. He was the very fabric of this mountain, of this base. The last place he stood, declaring that no matter what happened, he’d take the bullets and the blasts if it meant we could be safe.

“Rest easy, old friend,” I hear Eli murmur as the ashes fall through his fingers.

The sun eventually disappears, and we make the short trek back to Camp Obsidian. No one talks. No one cries. There’s just silence. Quiet reflection. A moment to give Gary’s memory the honor it deserves.

But the moment passes. They always seem to.

“Can you come with me?” Eli asks softly.

“Yeah,” I say, as Mom squeezes my arm and heads off with the rest of the group to the mess hall for Gary’s favorite—burgers and hot dogs.

Eli wraps an arm around my waist as we walk, his fingers gentle against my side. It reminds me of our Academy days. Inseparable. Easy. Simple.

Maybe now that Rourke is gone, and the aliens have retreated, we can try something that actually resembles a normal relationship. I mean, sure, we’ll both still have missions. But we’re older. Wiser. More mature. Well, I’ve grown up. Not sure Eli ever will, but I kind of love that about him.

We’ll figure it out. I just know we will.

We stop outside his room, and he opens the door, letting me in first.

I stretch, my limbs numb with sadness. “Everything okay?”

Eli exhales. That’s not good.