Page 131 of Aviatrix

“You okay?” Lark mutters, not moving his lips.

“Not even a little,” I whisper back.

But I don’t let go of his hand.

Somewhere, VAL is being moved to a secure location. Amber and I will get to her, squeeze into her cockpit, then give Rourke a show he’ll never forget.

The hymn begins, the same one I heard once before in that little church in Oklahoma, standing beside Eli with his hand resting in mine. He hummed along, off-key but smiling, and I remember the warmth of his palm, the rhythm of his thumb tracing figure eights. A promise wrapped in silence.

I almost believed it would last. That maybe the world could stay that still forever.

But it didn’t.

And now I have to live in the world that kept going without him.

My heart aches for a life that will never be mine. A quiet life. One where Eli and I exist in a small town untouched by time.

I force the ache into a box. Just until we survive this.

If I had to guess, I’d say the attack is coming from the sky. But I can’t be sure.

Goosebumps rise on my arms as the sky darkens not from cloud cover, but from something far more sinister.

Gray, sleek ships.

The same ones that destroyed Wingard. The ones that gunned down Eli.

And now?

Now they’re coming for us. And this time, they’re not just sending a message.

TWENTY-NINE

LIKE HELL I AM

“You ready?” Lark says beside me, his fingers tightening around mine.

“Ready.” I step forward to shield Amber. She presses close, her hand trembling in mine.

Lark raises a hand to his ear, speaking low into the mic tucked there. Gary and Scooter are in the sky, following the exact flight path Jan mapped out. One mistake and they’re visible. One mistake and we’re dead.

“You remember what I told you?” I whisper to Amber as the ships grow closer, their engines a low, predatory thrum echoing through the air.

“I remember,” she replies quietly.

Lark lets go of my hand and slips into the aisle, heading straight for the three agents blocking the exit. Thea follows. Bug Eyes, too. They’ll disarm them. Extract who they can. We’ve accepted the brutal truth that people will die. We can’t save everyone. We’ll save who we can. And hope that’s enough.

I stay rooted, heart pounding now in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Not panic, focus. But it won’t last. The ships are dropping lower. Too low. Eyes turn skyward. People gasp. Something’s wrong and everyone can feel it.

The hymn keeps playing, haunting now, the melody fraying at the edges of something terrible. I force myself to stay still. Just a little longer.

One of the ships veers off. Quietly. Too quietly. I lock onto it.

“Kinley,” Amber voices, her hand slick with sweat.

“Just a little longer,” I reply, eyes never leaving the rogue ship.

Sasha slides in beside me, replacing Lark. “You’re sure this is going to work?” she asks.