Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN...
When the plane takes off and heads to Cuba, I almost puke over Erik's shoes. Despite Hank being incredible at many things, flying does not seem to be one of them. The jet jerks and shakes like a mother rocking her child to sleep, and everyone is queasy by the time Hank announces we're almost at the war zone.
My heart leaps to my throat as he says the words, and I look over to Erik, who is staring at me with a burning intensity I've rarely ever seen pass across his face.
"Are you alright?" he whispers so only I can hear. I look up into his eyes, and worry gnaws at my stomach. It feels like a hot drink is being poured down my throat, so I know it's not just my own emotions. Darkness clings to the side of my vision, and my face contorts at the blast of fear that overtakes my senses.
Hank swerves the plane, and when I look out the window, I can see the jet passing over crystalline waters disrupted by a dozen military ships cutting through the sea like a knife through butter. It's not my own fear that renders me useless for a second, it's the men on those boats. No one wants to cross the embargo line and start a war. They're just men following orders. For some reason, my blood boils at the thought.
They might be men doing what they were told, but they are also men that could stop a war if they only listened to their hearts.
I can feel it in their bones, in the way a thousand shadowy figures wail on their knees at the back of my mind. They are frightened and worried. They don't want any of this. They think they are about to die.
I look back up to Erik. "Yeah, I'm fine." I turn to look across from me. Sean, Raven, and Charles all sit in their seats, incredibly uncomfortable. Charles grinds his jaw and Raven grabs both sides of her chair. I guess everyone has realized that this trip is not going to be a comfy one.
The plane dips slightly, and my stomach drops. Instinctively, Erik reaches out a hand to his side, and I take it without hesitation. My headset digs painfully into my skull, and my thoughts are a spiral of darkness.
He's here, I can feel him, but I don't know where he could be.
"Looks pretty messy out there." Hank says over the headset. His voice is a vibrating baritone in my head, and I take my other hand to keep the headphones from falling off. Erik and I both look to Charles, and the man places a tentative finger on his temple. We all wait in silence as Charles searches through the corners of each mind. By habit now, I place a wall of shadows around my thoughts, as impenetrable as a brick wall. No one could see into my mind even if they tried their hardest.
Charles gasps slightly and opens his eyes once more, his expression pained. "Crew of the Aral Sea are all dead," he says slowly. "Shaw's been there." my blood turns to ice. I knew it.
