Brave Fear (boyxboy)

Chapter 26

The sky was a beautiful and deadly place. Gazing out the open bay door, Zane stared into the expanse.

No matter how magnificent the vast field of blue was, there was the constant and imminent threat of falling thirty-five thousand feet. Zane pictured his body somersaulting through the air, dipping through the clouds, the real clouds. It was a strangely appealing thought. Free-falling through the air had a sliver of beauty to it. He could know he was going to die in a couple of minutes, so he wouldn't have to worry. He could be free.

But he couldn't get over the fact at how real the sky looked. It had depth, unpredictabilites, a personality. The clouds moved of their own accord, pushed by the wind currents that shocked Zane with their suddenness. The sun was blindingly bright, and its harshness was nowhere near that of the fluorescent New Vancouver sun. He breathed in the sky air and forgot about their precarious situation, if not for a moment.

When Zane lifted his eyes and saw the jets, his hands went instinctively to his belt until he realized his knives were lying on a bed in New Vancouver. But he somehow felt relieved they weren't there with him. They only served as a reminder of Wawrzynski.

Looking around, he realized the others had discarded their weapons as well. If the weapons they'd had were essentially useless, what had Wawrzynski truly intended for them?

Zane could only come up with one explanation. Whatever Wawrzynski had planned for them, it had gone awry when they'd escaped. In a world dominated by nuclear weapons and heat-seeking missiles, what use was there for medieval weapons? Whatever Wawrzynski had initially intended, it was obviously impossible now.

It gave Zane a sense of satisfaction to know that, despite the man hounding them like Daisy hounded a box of Froot Loops, Zane and his friends were able to outwit him. They had proved Wawrzynski was unable to restrain them or control them, and in doing so, Zane felt far more empowered than ever. He felt they could truly escape the man's clutches.

The Shaurya missile was gaining, ever so slowly closing the distance between itself and their jet. Jonas was breathing heavily, his feet planted halfway down the descended bay door, his chest heaving. "Get back," he said softly, directing them backward with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Zane took the cue and retreated, placing his body as far away from the oppressive blue sky just feet in front of him. He crossed his arms over his chest defensively and self-preservingly.

The missile was within one hundred meters now, and still gaining. The plane stayed level, Anastasia freakishly calm and controlled when a nuclear explosion was imminent. Zane's knees wobbled nonetheless, nervousness creeping in and flooding his veins. It was like a drug.

Jonas heaved a deep breath and shoved his hands out toward the missile.

His glasses flew off his face with such a force they could have killed somebody. They twirled in the air, spinning vicious circles until they vanished from sight, swept up by the intense wind outside the plane.

And then Jonas shot backward like a bullet from a gun.

He hollered in fear and pain and defiance. His form starfished in midair, his arms and legs spreading wide. Zane clapped a hand over his mouth as a sickening bang echoed. Jonas's body had struck the wall next to the door to the bunking quarters. He whimpered once and slid down to the ground. His eyes bulged.

Zane looked back toward the missile, which was now flipping end over end, somersaulting through the sky like Zane had recently imagined his body doing. Its heat sensors and radar detector had clearly been jammed, for it redirected itself into the sky, shooting straight up.