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When I was tracking the army’s drone movements, I investigated their different types. There are those for kids playing in their backyards that start at under a hundred dollars, and non-military-grade varieties that go up to the thousands. Military-grade can be much more. Because they have weapons capability.
Chance knows none of this. I don’t want to mention that in addition to the unblinking red eye of the camera, the drone could open fire on us without a moment’s notice. Instead, I let him focus all his attention on getting us to the southern barracks.
I’ve never been on this part of the property, but I’ve looked at the aerial footage I found in the military database. I’m not a good judge of these things, but I think we have several more minutes before we get there, even at top speed.
My arms are hugging Chance’s waist as I grip my wrists to keep from letting go. I guess I’m as close to death as I’ve ever been. My heart is pounding, I’m swallowing convulsively, and I’m gasping for breath.
Instead of worrying about my possible impending death, though, my thoughts turn to the male I’m riding.
Chance. The male who has been generous in his praise, kind with his words, and unafraid to use the L-word on more than one occasion. I’ve always loved Maya Angelou’s quote, “When someone shows you who they are, believe them.”
Perhaps even more to the point is what my mom always told me. “Sometimes you have to ignore the words coming out of someone’s mouth and listen to what they aredoing.”
Well, no matter which quote fits best, Chance is a great guy. Considering that drone might open fire on us at any minute, I think now is as good a time as any to say something I should have said a few days ago.
“I love you, Chance.”
To his credit, he doesn’t break his stride, doesn’t falter, doesn’t lose us one nanosecond of time. He simply whinnies so loud I not only hear it over his pounding hoofbeats, I feel it vibrating from deep in his chest.
I’ve seen lights up ahead since shortly after we caught sight of the drone. We’re so far from civilization that a single light can be seen from a great distance. I wasn’t sure how far we were from the barracks, but now it seems the lights are getting closer fast.
“Almost there,” Chance bites out, then presses forward, huffing with exertion.
When I see the barracks, a series of connected Quonsets surrounded by a fence topped with barbed wire and dotted with floodlights, I almost breathe a sigh of relief. The drone, rather than peeling off as I expected, stays with us as we approach the facility.
“Hang on tight!” Chance shouts as he approaches the fence.
The fence must be at least eight feet tall. I don’t care how superhuman they bred him to be, he couldn’t possibly jump that high, especially with me on his back.
“Help!” I scream.
They call this the reject barracks for a reason. It must be guarded by a cadre of soldiers.
“Help!”
Soon, soldiers are pouring out of doorways. Some, I guess those who were on duty, are in uniform and have their weapons in hand. Others must be coming from their dorms. A few are pulling on pants as they hurry toward us.
“Drone!” I shout, pointing to it.
Numerous rifles aim at the thing, and it flies off, zigzagging to avoid being shot.
As if this night couldn’t get any more surreal, what I see out of the corner of my eye grabs my full attention.
“Hawk! Come back here!” One of the soldiers calls. “Hawk! You’re not authorized!”
Chance faces the action. Keeping himself between me and the drone, he backs up as we watch a splicer male with a wingspan more than twice his height chase after the drone.
“Hawk won’t listen,” Chance murmurs. “He’s one of the bravest of us. They bred him for this. It’s in his DNA.”
“Stand down!” one of the soldiers calls over a loudspeaker. “Hawk, you’re too valuable to lose. We don’t want you dead. That’s an order, soldier.”
What must be the commanding officer of the southern barracks shouts, “Our radar can track the thing. Let the men in the command center do their jobs.”
Hawk keeps pursuing the drone for a few more seconds, but his wings aren’t beating; he’s sailing on air currents. Finally, he gracefully turns in mid-flight and glides towards the ground, like an angel descending from the heavens. His magnificent wings begin to fold, revealing a silhouette that embodies strength and gentleness all at once.
Hawk eases in for a landing next to where we’re standing. The male almost died up there. He could have been hit by the enemy or friendly fire. If the focus of his gaze is any indication, though, he’s more concerned with me.
“A female, Chance? A human female?”
