Page 32 of Aviatrix

Instead, I’m here. On the run. With him.

The man who broke my heart and called it a mistake.

“You sleep well?” Lark asks as he peels off his sweat-drenched T-shirt, his skin flushed from an early morning run in the middle of the godforsaken desert. Who does that?

I don’t look at him. Not directly. Not at the chest I used to fall asleep against. Not at the arms I used to trust.

“No,” I say flatly, eyes locked on the chipped edge of my tray.

“Was it too hot in your room?” he asks, like we’re back at Langdon, back in that little base house with the creaky floors and the shared toothbrush drawer.

“No,” I snap, rising so fast my chair screeches. “It was just fine.”

“Alright.”

“This might be an odd question,” I begin, “but if you’re in charge of Alien Warfare, putting a team together, why are we here?”

Lark raises a calculated eyebrow. “Let me worry about that.” There’s a beat before he adds, “You going to tell me what Major Kopelman gave you?”

I ignore his question. “When are we leaving? You said we were going to San Diego. When?”

He grabs a newspaper off the table and flips it open. “Whenever you’re ready to share what your ex-boyfriend slipped into your back pocket.”

I leave the mess hall before I throw my tray at his face. Or admit I’m too afraid to look at what’s on the thumb drive.

One day. Then two. We don’t leave. We don’t speak. We just circle.

Stalemate.

By the fourth day, I’m beyond frustrated. There’s no time for this. I need to get to my team. There’s an imminent alien threat, and eventually, they’ll come back. I can feel it. And what is Lark doing? Wasting time. Because he’s stubborn. Because he’s scared.

So, I stop waiting.

I get up before sunrise, wait until Lark heads out for his daily run, and slip down the barely-lit hallway toward the control room.

The base is silent. My footsteps ring like a countdown.

Inside the room, I shut the door and pull out the thumb drive. My fingers tremble. The wall of screens bathes everything in a cold, digital glow.

Whatever’s on this thing, it's important. Eli made sure I got it secretly. Which means he didn’t want Lark to see it.

I glance over my shoulder, then shove the drive into the computer.

The screen flashes black. My pulse spikes. Words appear, one line at a time.

Quay, are you alone?

A blinking cursor waits. The silence wraps around me, loud in its own way. My chest tightens as if even the air is holding its breath. Something is coming. I can feel it.

I type: Yes.

The words vanish.

New text appears:

Meet me in...

Blink.