Three Strikes [✓]

444

Chapter Eight: 444

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444th Air Base, Zapland, Usea.
June 20th, 2019.
1100hrs.

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They put her on a transport plane to fly her to an allied base south of the Usean continent, near the front lines, the renowned Mobius Squadron playing escort before they landed with the transport Naomi was on and then flew back towards Yuktobania. Just like Knocker had said, the squadron didn't have any interest in staying around. Naomi barely even caught a glimpse of their F-22s before they had vanished from the sky and she was loaded onto a transport ship.

It had been a few days since she'd been locked on the ship, and she wasn't allowed to step out on deck. They stopped once more and she heard a lot of chatter among the crew, but Naomi wasn't too sure what for. After that, they sailed towards the east on their dingy transport. Evidently, since they were classified as not being a war vessel and were considered a harmless cargo ship, the Erusean's left them alone whenever they happened to fly or sail their way, but that's not to say that they didn't have a few forms of defense tucked away in the off chance they were attacked.

Naomi desperately hoped that they were never attacked. One of Naomi's greatest fears was drowning. She wasn't so much scared of water or the ocean, if anything, she loved days on the beach as much as everyone and she trusted her ability to swim. Having done competitive swimming for a few years, she was a strong swimmer and she could tread water for a good while. That wasn't a problem. What she was scared of was being trapped in something, like the cockpit of a plane or in handcuffs in a cell, and sinking underwater.

There was no escape in either of those situations, and she'd know she was dying and there wasn't anything she could do about it. She'd be trapped and try her best to fight it, to be able to breath, but it wouldn't happen and it would only speed up the time it took for her to run out of air. The idea of her lungs filling with water and her oxygen supply being cut off, dying a slow, torturous death. It was enough to make her dislike being on ships for prolonged periods of time. That was the main reason she didn't join the Navy and why she preferred flying at higher altitudes whenever they were engaging an enemy over water.

But she had to suck it up and deal with the ridiculous nightmares she had, unable to get the thought of drowning out of her mind. It was of great relief to her when the ship finally stopped and someone came to get her. Typically, wherever she went below deck, a single guard accompanied her. The only place she went by herself was the bathroom, either to use it or to shower, but the guard waited outside at all times. When they arrived in Zapland, two guards positioned in front of her and behind her kept watch on her.

Outside, the brightness of the sun combined with the sudden change in temperature was enough to cause Naomi to squeeze her eyes shut and blink a few times to properly adjust. It was nice to be out of the dark, damp, and extremely cold cell, but the heat was almost unbearable. They'd given her a flight suit to wear with her prisoner number on it and it barely breathed any, adding to the discomfort she felt with the change in temperature. Once she was finally able to see straight, her eyes adjusting at last, she took in the surroundings of her new home.

It wasn't a desert, as there were several pine trees and grass along the rocky ground, but as the guards shoved Naomi off of the ship and they began their march to the base, she noticed that the ground wasn't shifty like sand was, it was solid with a thin layer of dirt and rocks as a top coating, bearing more resemblance to the texture of solid ground in a canyon than to a desert or beach. Off in the distance, a tan and brown hillside could be seen, and just beneath that was what appeared to be an airstrip with trucks and planes and everything.