ADDI THE BADDI
Bushy Brows leaves eventually to go fly the plane or something. I've made the executive decision not to refer to him by his name (Harris) because he's hardly worthy of my respect. I couldn't care less for him.
Bushy Brows said we'd be landing in five hours. He'd told me we were bound for Canada. It was a miracle that I'd actually ended up exactly where I intended to be. Maybe Bushy Brows was good for one thing, but that's it. He's still a moron.
Siri devises a plan—
Wait. I agreed to no such thing.
Dude, I could just autopilot myself and you'd have to do it anyway.
Dammit. I've taught her too well.
As I was saying, Siri devises a plan as I try to force more sleep into my system. It's the only thing I haven't been able to do in my "military" training (if you could even call it that). I can suppress meals and divert energy sources like a desert plant, but sleeping is the one thing I haven't been able to do on command. But that's the plan for the next six hours. And when I wake up, I expect Siri to have set out my plan to save Tom.
Hey Siri, take the wheel.
***
I wake from a restless nap with the shaking of turbulence and the feeling of falling. I make the mistake of looking up and catch one of the not-imposter nurses staring at me. She averts her gaze, as do I. Suddenly I'm seeing tall evergreens brushing past the windscreen of the cockpit, and in another moment we bounce in a very abrupt landing. I grab onto the ropes holding down cargo. Death. All I can think of is dying (but is that a surprise?). At the very least, I think I might've fractured my neck.
Stop being over dramatic, you big baby.
I hardly feel any safer when we come to a jolting stop because the hatch of the plane descends and collides with the concrete with a slam. Heavy boots trudge up and down the hatch, carting cargo off. I scuttle backwards, earning a strange look from the loading crew.
Siri, what do I do?
Why are you asking me?
The PLAN? Idiot.
Watch your mouth.
The plan is to find flight logs. There's gotta be a database with all of Tom's information.
Ugh, Siri, have I told you lately that I love you?
Save it.
"You know you can leave, right?"
My eyes roll all the way to the back of my head. Unwillingly, I turn to find Harris. Though he isn't terrifyingly tall, he still looms over me with his cheshire cat grin. An intrusive part of my mind tells me to step on both his feet. It surprises me that a large part of me is fighting the urge to do so.
"C'mon, I'll walk you out."
"No need to."
"Oh, but I insist. Plus, I have a few questions to ask you," he says and his grin only broadens. He props up an arm and I give it a dirty look, striding down the platform. Harris catches up in three easy steps. "Number one: what is your name?"
"Adelaide."
"What's your full name?"
I shrug. "I don't know your full name, Harris."
