AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Fix it now.” Kurt shouted.
“Can I look?” Sawyer stepped forward.
Rohde clenched his jaw. “Not unless you’re an expert in remote control airplanes.”
“No. But the tanks have a lot of similar mechanics.”
Kurt’s eyes grew wide. “You know about RC tanks?”
Was that a shadow that flashed across Sawyer’s face?
“I do.” Sawyer nodded at the controller. “Do you want me to see if I can help?”
Kurt shoved the device at him. “Yes.”
Rohde looked like he was torn between yanking Sawyer back, and relief that someone might have a solution.
“We playing?” Someone called from the field.
“Go,” I said to Rohde. “I’ll sit out, so the teams are even, and I’ll watch him since I brought him.” Besides, football wasn’t really my thing. I was more of a hockey guy.
Sawyer, Kurt, and I moved back to the pavilion, and an empty table, with Sawyer carrying the plane like it was precious cargo, and Kurt hovering inches away.
Sawyer set the vehicle down, and reached for a series of metal objects attached to one of the wings. “Pretty sure these aren’t standard issue for an F4-U.”
“They’re the zombie bombs,” Kurt said.
“Nazi zombies?” Sawyer looked completely serious.
Kurt shook his head. “Zombie Nazis.”
“What’s the difference?” I couldn’t believe I was asking this.
Sawyer gave me a look of disbelief. “Nazi zombies became Nazis after they died. Zombie Nazis were Nazis who became zombies.”
Kurt grinned. “Exactly.”
“Don’t the bombs kill all of them?” What was I missing?
Kurt huffed as if that was the dumbest question he’d ever heard.
Sawyer sighed and rolled his eyes. “Be useful. Hold this right here.” He pointed me toward one of the metal things.
The way Kurt watched me with expectation, I didn’t have a choice but to comply.
“Here’s the thing about zombie Nazi bombs.” As Sawyer talked, he pulled out his keys, and removed a small pocketknife from the ring. He flipped the blade open. “Sometimes they interfere with radio signals.”
“You can’t remove them.” Kurt’s shout drew glances from the field.
“I’m not taking them off. I’m moving them.” Sawyer’s tone never dipped toward frustration or condescending. “Gage is friends with Evie, right?”
Kurt nodded.
“And Evie knows how to fix the plane?”
“Yes,” Kurt said.
Sawyer moved the pocketknife toward the piece I held. “So Gage will make sure I do things right.”
