One Deadly Night

Fourteen

His stomach lurched when he saw the girl fall.

Jon rushed to her side.

Sweat glistened her face, and when he pressed a hand on her shoulder, he felt her whole body trembled.

He recognized the classic symptoms of a panic attack.

"Hey, everything's going to be okay." He tried to keep his tone calm even though he knew the bugs were closing in on them.

He watched as the girl touched the scar on her forehead.

Jon opened his mouth to say something when bursts of wind pummeled them from the approaching chopper.

He raised his hand over his eyes in effort to see around the bright light. He could make out the landing skids as they hovered near them.

Skye let out a shriek.

He spun to see the squirming black horde amassed along the ridge. He instinctively pulled the girl to his side as his planted his feet into the snow to stay upright from the downwash of the aircraft's rotors.

Something bumped into his back. He turned to see a dangling rope ladder.

Pop! Pop!

The sound originated from the chopper. A moment later, a blanket of orange smoke created a barrier between them and the army of bugs.

He put his hands on the girl's shoulders and turned her to face him.

"Okay, Skye. It's time to go!" He shouted.

The skin on her face was so pale, he worried if she had strength enough to climb the airborne ladder.

"We'll do this together, okay?" He spoke loudly as he pulled off her mittens.

She nodded, her eyes wide with fear.

Jon drew in a short shaky breath and lifted her up to the first few rungs.

But the ladder suddenly swerved out of her grasp.

He bellowed out a few curse words.

Again, he lifted Skye toward the swaying ladder and this time, she grabbed the upper rungs and clung on.

Once he was certain that Skye had a firm grasp on the ladder, he leaped and grabbed the bottom rung.

A sudden pain in his right leg nearly caused Jon to lose his grip as the chopper lifted him several feet off the ground.

He glanced and saw that one of the beetles had landed on his cargo trousers and was in the process of burrowing through.

His eyes grew wide.

The sucker was well over an inch long.

"Ahh!" He yelled when another razor-sharp pain radiated through the leg.

He could feel the pinchers digging into his flesh.

By this time, the chopper had them well over fifty feet from the ground.

He felt the rope go taunt.

Finally, they were pulling them up.

He needed to get rid of this monstrosity before it munched any further into his leg.

Releasing one hand on the wooden rung, he allowed his legs to dangle freely in air. With the hand, he undid the belt and snap of the trousers, and attempted to kick them off.

They easily slid off the left leg, but not the right one.

The insect attached to his leg was preventing the trousers to fall.

Blast this thing!

A flap of poly-cotton fabric covered the bug which he grabbed and gave a mighty yank.

The action tore a chunk of flesh along with the beetle and he hurled both away – the downwash caught them pushing them violently for the ground below.

**

Skye's knuckles whitened as she hung on to the ladder with all her might while it swung wildly in the frigid air.

Cold nausea spread through her body.

She squeezed her lids shut and bit down on her bottom lip – determined not to give in to being ferociously ill.

Where was Jon? Did he fall?

Did the bugs get him?

The rope ladder gave a hard jerk which caused her hands to slip off the rung.

Skye felt the sudden shift of momentum pulled her body backward as her arms flailed madly into nothingness.

Something warm took hold of her wrists and the next thing Skye knew, she was being tossed through the air and landed on a solid surface.

The next several moments were a blur of hurried activities where she found herself wrapped in a wool blanket with a mask on her face that blew misty cool air into her nose and mouth as she sat strapped to a firm bucket seat.

"Be sure to stop that bleeding, Lieutenant." Barked a man.

"Yes, sir. Trying to, sir!" A woman responded.

There were two uniformed adults kneeling over something on the rubber flooring.

Skye shifted in her seat to try and get a peek of what that something was.

She caught a glimpse of bare legs. One of them held a nasty open gash with blood streaming out of it.

Was that Jon?

A short time later, the female soldier finished bandaging up the wound and draped an orange blanket over the injured man.

Without warning, the aircraft heaved violently slamming her head against the back of the seat before careening into a nosedive.

The cabin exploded with alarms going off and adults shouting words she couldn't understand.

Skye closed her eyes and held her breath.

Everything about this seemed terrifyingly familiar like she'd gone through this before.

What do people call this sensation?

Deja vu?

"Momma?" She whimpered.