Eliot Strange and the Prince of the People

2) From Above

After the EMP shut down most of the country, it was not uncommon to see aircraft in the sky. First, it was jets, roaring in packs across the sky making enough noise to unravel your last frazzled nerve. But, they were headed away from us, never towards us, so we felt relatively safe. Wherever they were going was the danger zone, and we were still safe here.

As the world ground slowly to a stop, we occasionally saw small aircraft, but never commercial aircraft. We heard that hundreds, maybe thousands, of flights fell out of the sky the day of the EMP. After the last of the real army marched through Mount Airy months ago, we had not seen so much as a hot air balloon or drone. We never saw a helicopter, not until today.

One thing about it, a regular helicopter is not stealth. It is not going to sneak up on you. We are ready when the helicopter flies over. Every single person who can carry a gun is armed and looking up. All the children are hidden because we have been practicing this drill for days.

The helicopter circles overhead like it is looking for something, and I pray it is not looking for a prince. He is awake, and I am standing over him like I can protect him from whoever wants him. Precious Millicent, and a few other children whose names I don't remember, are hiding in here too. They ducked in from the porch and are hiding under the bed. Clay and Hellman are in here, and Clay is looking through his scope. He is whisper shouting what he sees.

"Not military. No big guns. Looks like it is a commercial helicopter. Says Bobby Wray's Tours on the side. Out of Pilot. Looks like it is going to drop something."

I take a peek. White papers reign down like confetti. A helicopter might not be the perfect vessel for dropping papers as the rush of wind from the blades scatters the papers across the whole farm. As if an afterthought, a way to say - trust us, we come in peace - small packages follow the papers.

Clay gives a play by play as the helicopter hovers loudly, and the people below collectively hold their breath. Minutes pass and life is paused, but you can count on one thing not changing even after the world ends. We all love surprises. I peek out the window with Clay. A man, it looks like Adam from here, runs and picks up some papers and a package. He does not blow up or in any other way die. He holds the package over his head like a trophy. This, of course, is irresistible to children, not to mention adults, and soon they are all running outside to see if there are presents.

"Damn," says Clay. "We're going to have to work on that drill. Be a good way to wipe us all out."

Millicent and the other children peek out from underneath the bed. Clay says, "Looks like a red cross label on those packages. Bob Wray's flying, I've known him a long time." He sighs and puts his gun down and waves for the children to go and check out what fell from the sky. The kids squeal in delight.

We watch as the children dance with their ears covered and their hair blowing like they're in a real live tornado drill. Most of them are opening their new found treasures and waving at the helicopter. It is so low now I can see a man and woman waving back. It tips its nose and flies off.

I watch as Cindy Lou, with Baby Christopher on her hip, picks up a package and hands her baby a treat. Is that a tootsie roll pop? If it is, please bring me a pomegranate one. I quickly pray there are still some of that obscure flavor on earth, and by some miracle, one was delivered to me. I scan the other children and see a sucker in every mouth and one in each hand. The kids are doing a happy dance due to the sugar rush, I am sure. Candy? Really? We could have used something nutritious, thank you very much - phantom helicopter from the sky. But, at least, the kids are happy. And I will be too, if they dropped my favorite.

Torin joins me at the window. "Don't think it meant to harm us," says Torin.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," says Doc who has just arrived with a piece of paper and a handful of tootsie roll pops thrown from the helicopter. She hands the paper to Clay.

Even from across the room, I can read the heading - WANTED. And there's another word - REWARD.