ADDI THE BADDI
I pace the length of my tent, switching between nervous tension and excitement with each beat of my heart. My overthinking accounts for seventy thousand possible scenarios ending in death.
At last, Tom and Fred enter my tent accompanied by a soldier. He unfolds them and I tell him to stand outside. Once alone, I reach under the bed for two uniforms. I'd grabbed them easily from a clothesline, and everyone who passed me did not seem to wonder why I was carrying two soldier's uniforms that were clearly far too big for me.
I toss a set to each of them. "Old clothes go into that drawer," I tell them, kicking an empty door on my medical trolley. I spin around, giving them some privacy. I pull out the top draw, removing some of the medical items until I find the butterfly knife I'd found in the laundry room. I slip it into the knee-pocket of my right leg. It's not much compared to the holster I'm supposed to get later on but it's a weapon I'm more likely to use than a gun.
"Who is Jenkins?" asks Fred.
"Just hurry up and get dressed already."
Tom is beside me, tossing his grey jumpsuit into the bottom draw. He's always been efficient. Fred follows a few minutes later. Then, as Ben had planned, we slip through the back of the tent and head for the plane.
Only one unplanned encounter: Courtney.
She almost bowls me over with her excitement. I'm surprised that she's more excited to leave than me, but to be fair, I don't think she's quite as nervous as I am. "You gotta get your pack, Sophie," she laughs, patting my shoulder. "We aren't nurses today. We're servin' and protectin'!"
Maybe she's just excited because she has a gun in her holster, not a scalpel for once.
Courtney drags me from the other two, who look helplessly at each other—I hope they remember what I'd explained to them last night. The two of us end up at the equipment tent, one of the many tents I haven't needed to visit in my month here. The process of checking out arms and vests takes two minutes before we're back on our merry way to the plane. The only problem now is that she is walking excruciatingly slow. "Slow down," Courtney laughs. "Ain't no way your hubby is leaving without ya."
Ignoring the atrocity of the term 'hubby', I think the reason the plane hasn't taken off is because of this southern beauty.
Since Ben's wordless confession, I've been thinking so much about the two of them and it was starting to make sense to me. Two bubbly-spirited Hufflepuffs and their endless loyalty. Courtney is fierce in the fight for the things she wants. Ben is endlessly giving to those he cares for. And soon, they'd both be honest enough to admit that there is something between them. And maybe that'll be enough to excuse the fact that they were born on two different sides of the war.
When we get to the ship, Ben is standing on the loading flap, hands on his hips like he's been expecting us. "Took you long enough."
"Blame your little missy here," Courtney calls back. "She was so excited to see ya, she forgot to grab her gun."
Ben smiles. Of course he does. I can't tell if I'm nauseated with jealousy or... the other emotion I'm feeling. I don't know what it is but it makes me feel sick.
We walk up the flap. With every step, the number of butterflies in my stomach grows until they are a murder of ravenous crows fighting to break free. Taking the empty seat across from Tom, I can tell that he shares my excitement too. Halfway there. Halfway home.
As either Dave or Ben draws up the loading flap, Courtney squints at their nametags. "I didn't know there were two Jenkins," she hums before the engine roars to life.
***
It's not long before everyone is yawning to pop their ears. I wish I had gum. Yum, lush strawberry gum. Clenching my jaw isn't cutting it anymore.
Only Courtney seems to question what is happening. "Why are we going down so much? Are we landing already? It's not even been an hour," she begins to panic, struggling with the belt across her chest. You have to tell her, I remember Ben telling me. She needs to know the truth.
She's gonna kill me.
Then don't give her the power to kill you.
For the duration of this flight, I've been playing with these cuffs, imagining myself clapping them onto her wrists and the small metal frame between us. I'd have to rid the guns and the baton before I could tell her anything. Even then, I'm convinced that she'd still be able to kill me.
It doesn't go as smoothly as I imagine, and there ends up being more screaming from Courtney which alerts the ten prisoners. I cast a panicked look at Tom. "Hey, hey," he coos and she actually listens. "We aren't going to hurt you. But you might want to listen to what Addi has to say."
"Addi?"
"My name isn't Sophie Anderson," I shamefully admit. "I'm not an American nurse. I didn't join the army to get away from my ex. Courtney, there's a few things I lied to you about. But this much is true: I want to help people. And I'd do anything for my friends."
"You ain't my friend."
"Which is why I'm not doing you any favours. But these people, they're incarcerated. They deserve to be free. Like my friend Tom."
"And lockin' me up is helpin' that cause how?"
"It's not. But I have another friend—his name is Ben, but you'll know him as Louis—who thinks you should be free too."
"Might I remind ya, I'm locked up?" Courtney jiggles her limp hand tethered to the wall of the plane. "This ain't free, dingus. You're making me a prisoner too, hypocrites."
"She's got a point," Fred frowns. "Why was this part of the plan?"
"Because Ben likes her," I grumble sourly. Why? I don't know. I should be happy to help a friend. "It doesn't make sense to me either, but love has made him dumb."
"Woah, woah, I am not fallin' in love with no scummy—"
The wheels of the plane hit the ground so hard that I'm jolted to the floor. Tom has my arm, rather uselessly, but he reels me onto my feet. "Where the hell are we?" Courtney yells above the din.
As if to answer her, a voice comes over the speakers. "Sorry for the shaky landing, folks, but welcome to Canada!"
