Sky Fighters

CHAPTER 15

       I looked at Michael. He was trying not to show he was devastated. He turned back and headed for the bridge. As he did, a plane suddenly appeared on our right. It was a big one. I looked at it but was blinded by the reflective aluminum skin. I yelled to Michael. Barley, just barely, I could make out the word Glory. Michael waved and shouted as the plane banked upwards and started for a carrier. We watched until it disappeared, hidden by the dozens of other planes already landed.

       Michael set a course for the island. A bunch of cruisers and destroyers hovered over the Riptide to protect it. The Musashi was also protected heavily. I followed Michael into the bridge where there was a cheer from the crew. Everyone shook my hand and congratulated me on destroying the Yamato. I smiled and said thanks, but I knew that I didn't sink it. Nobody did. Her own crew killed themselves and two entire crews of our forces. I just sat there in the safety of my ship and watched. Watched as thousands died in an instant.

       I looked at a calendar Michael had hanging up. Every month there was a different plane or ship. It was December, with a B-17 flying over the Golden Gate Bridge. December. December 20th, to be exact. The sun was lower over the water now, but we had to keep our guard up. Next thing I knew someone was shaking me and telling me to get up. I had fallen asleep on the bridge floor. I stumbled down the walkway to the hangar. I walked in to find an enormous tree decorated in the center. There was hot chocolate on a table at the base. I walked back out to see the island alive even at night. Riptide was being pulled up onto the island for repairs. Michael was nowhere to be seen. I realized there was one place he would go. I walked around towards the sea of aircraft on the runway and on the field. It was going to be nearly impossible to find a single plane in this mess.

       I noticed the fighters were all on the runway in one direction. They must be parked there in case of an attack. Bombers, which there weren't many of, were in the furthest back of the field. Some crews burned small fires and sang songs as they sat on the wings. Others were sleeping. Some were cleaning their planes and fixing the guns.

       There was a group of B-17s in a circle. As I got near, I saw a big fire in the center. There was music playing and people were dancing. I ducked past the .50 caliber machine guns on the tail and walked into the circle. They recognized me and all ran over to congratulate me on the day's mission. There were three men sitting on one of the wings of a bomber playing instruments. Each of them had violins. The plane was called Five Fiddlers. Three cases on the ground sat open, while two were closed. I looked at the plane until I realized that among other damage, the ball turret on the belly of the plane had a huge hole on the side. The glass nose cone was cracked and broken. I congratulated them on their bravery and said goodbye. I still had a plane to find.

       I walked past more planes. By now the moon was high in the air, around 21:00. Finally, I saw the reflective glow of the B-24. I started running for the plane, ducking under a B-25, the B-24's smaller version. I walked into an open area where Glory was kept. There was a large tarp with one side on the left wing and one side secured on the roof of the plane. The last corner was held up with a long metal stick. A few small lanterns burned giving off an orange glow. Michael was sleeping with his back up against the main landing gear. Maggie was painting on the side of the plane. She turned to look at me and stepped away from what she was painting.

       "Hey Nico." She said.

       "Hey."

       "So. Heard you got the captain of the Yamato. Tell you anything?"

       "A little. His injuries are pretty bad. Whatcha painting?" I asked.

       "Dragon." She replied.

       "Neat. Where's the rest of your crew?"

       "Either sleeping in the hangar or dead."

       "Oh. Why are you painting a dragon?"

      "Because all of these other planes have pictures, so why not?"

       I looked at the half painted dragon. Its body was mainly green, with reds and yellows mixed in.

       "Why are you here?" She asked suddenly.

       She trying to get rid of me? "I'm just looking for Michael. When did he show up here?"

       "About an hour ago. He just wanted to know if I was okay, but he wanted to ask something else. He kept making a weird face. Is he usually like that?"

       So, he must be in love with her. But if he can't tell her on his own, I shouldn't be involved. "No, not usually like that. Wonder what he's up to."

       Maggie made a face like she didn't believe me. I waked over to Michael and shook him awake. He insisted on staying for some reason.

       "Better leave. There's a storm coming." Maggie said, pointing to some black clouds only visible by the illuminating lightning bursts over the water.

       Michael and I walked for the hangar until we got sidetracked by the fiddlers having a party. We stayed and danced until we were forced to run for his ship by the torrential downpour. When we made it back, we dried off and headed for the cabin.