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Sergeant Reynolds stops and really takes us all in. His eyes search every single one of us, knowing these injuries were caused by humans.
He can tell there’s a story but doesn’t ask.
The chopper takes off once we are all on board. The silent sobs and blind panic consume me as we rise into the air, matched only by the overwhelming grief of never seeing Micah again.
Once the chopper lifts, I peer outside. The view is hidden by the smoke, and I lurch off my seat. “No. No. No! You can’t leave him.”
Beg. Begging always works.
The officer has me in his grasp while the others just stare at my outburst. “Please, we have to find Micah. He’s alive. I know he is.”
“We’ll come back for him, Ms. King. You need to take a seat.”
Ms. King…
He knows my name. He knew Micah’s name…
The entire world knows my name.
When we step out of this chopper, they will watch and see who steps out—who survived…
Forty-two people left New Ocean that day, but only seven will return. He has no fucking idea what we endured to get here, no one does. But they will… The world will want to know what happened out there.
They will force us to tell them as if we owe them something.
I sit with my head in my hands, rocking back and forth, looking at my peers who are all silent and thinking the same thing as me. Each of them is truly a stranger to me, just like when I stepped on that doomed plane all those months ago.
I never want to see any of them again.
Only now that I’m soaring through the air and the rush of the wind against my face is bringing back memories do I remember a promise I made to myself never to fly again. I spend the remainder of the flight trying to keep my food in my stomach. It’s a lovely distraction from the pain in my heart, which is in literal pieces in my chest.
I wait in extreme anticipation until the chopper lands at an outpost, and we all get carted onto a large airplane, even bigger than the one we crashed in.
“I shouldn’t have left him,” I whisper to myself, knowing it’s too late.
I repeat those words without a care about how crazy I look. I close my eyes and sway as panic grips me.
On the plane ride back, everyone has their eyes closed, dealing with their own internal torment. I’m in utter shock the entire plane ride to New Ocean.
I can’t get Micah out of my head. His dark eyes, his olive skin, his warm, muscled body… How he looked at me and had been watching me from day one.
The day at the beach when he scrutinized me as I lay in my bathing suit, angry with the world. How alive he makes me feel.
I just left him… abandoned him to that inferno. I will never see him again, and that thought utterly destroys me.
The airplane lands abruptly, the screeching sound of the brakes piercing the air, and I take a deep breath as blind panic consumes me. I keep my eyes open because it’s easier than closing them and reliving the horror of watching people die. And no one is here to comfort me this time.
Breathe.
I’m still breathing…
I’m at the back of the plane. In fact, if I ever fly again, I will only ever sit in the back since it did, indeed, save my life. I finally blow out a breath once the plane comes to a halt and the lights come on.
Air is coursing through my lungs at an alarming rate, going from not breathing to breathing heavily in a matter of seconds. I stare outside at the town I left, at the sea of people waiting for us. My stomach crawls its way to my throat.
I exit the airplane last and walk down the steps onto the tarmac of the small airport in New Ocean. They took us directly home. Word must have spread of our arrival and they let the media in because the place is swarming with reporters, people, and flashing lights.
The world is waiting to see what’s left of us.
