Page 197 of Aviatrix

I don’t know if forgiveness fixes anything. But it keeps us from breaking further.

“You what?”

“I said I forgive you.”

Whatever reasons she had, I don’t think they matter anymore.

“I don’t want to look back,” I add. “I want to figure out what comes next.”

“Is that all you want?” she asks softly.

I don’t even hesitate. “I want to know what happened to my dad.”

“I’ll help you,” she says. “Whatever it takes.”

“All I need is your honesty now.”

“You have it.”

“Atlas is gone,” I say, and the words hit like barbed wire right to my heart. “We’re all we have.”

She rubs a hand over her jaw, solemn. “We are.”

I look her in the eye. “Are there any more secrets?”

She goes still. Then breathes in, sharp and shallow.

“I haven’t told anyone,” she says. “But when I was in the air, I saw an alien ship. The cockpit wasn’t blacked out. I could see inside.”

I lean forward, heart pounding.

“They’re worse than what we’ve seen, Nova,” she whispers. “The thing that came here? That was nothing. This… this was monstrous. Skin like rotting flesh. Eyes everywhere. Like something out of a nightmare.”

My stomach turns. Whatever we’re fighting… it isn’t just advanced. It’s ancient.

For a moment, I swear I hear the same voice that called my name at the hangar.

I want to tell her she imagined it. But I know better.

“I heard over the radio that they’ve retreated, but I don’t think they’ve really left,” she continues. “They want us to think they did. That ship over D.C. they left behind? That’s not a retreat. That’s a reminder that they’re not done with us.”

A silence falls between us.

“I think it’s more than that,” I say finally. “I think it’s a countdown.”

Thea stares at me, unblinking. “Then, we need to figure out how to stop it.”

No one says the next part.

If we don’t, we’re already out of time.

FORTY-ONE

SOMEWHERE BETWEEN SKY AND GRIEF

The wind whistles through the ravine as we stand in uniform, solemn and still. Scooter holds Gary’s recovered ashes in a plain brown box, his hands trembling slightly as snow flurries drift from the storm-choked sky above. Fitting. Even the sky is leaking grief today.

Everyone hiked the partially snow-covered path overlooking the valley beside Camp Obsidian. Patches of white glisten around us, while the evergreen trees stand tall and formidable despite the cold. Even in May, winter still owns the mountain.