Script

Chapter Six: Script

I could tell by the scent coming from the draft that it was the boy.

"Aim, I need you to hide behind this crate I'll handle him" I whispered jerking my thumb in the direction of the kid. "You need something?" I asked in the sweetest voice I could muster up (which let me assure you, is not very sweet)

             "Yah" he replied. Squinting his eyes, looking at me. Now that I could see him from the front I could tell he had wavy brown hair and the brightest blue eyes I had ever seen. "Where's your sister?" He questioned. Amy had started to throw up from pain and motion sickness. I felt horrible, but I smiled and replied sweetly

            "At the moment, yakking up her lunch. She's prone to motion sickness."

             "Pleasant." He said, wrinkling his nose. "Well Doc said to check on you and make sure you hadn't escaped."

            "Nice of him to think of us." I said glaring into his ocean blue eyes. He gave me an odd, almost an affectionate longing look. I walked over to him and grabbed the collar of his black T-shirt, planning on throwing him to the ground and kicking his sorry butt for joining my retched uncle. But before I could make a move, the door slid open, and I let go right as Dr. Clery walked in.

             "Mark, stop flirting and head back to the cockpit. Gunther needs yea help readying the parachutes."

            "Yes sir." Mark replied glumly, as he saluted and headed out the small door, glancing back at me briefly.

             "Where are you taking us?" I spat, once Mark had closed the door.

             "Nowhere." He sputtered mocking me (but failing miserably because of the Irish accent.) "Where's yea unhelpful, puny, sister?" He said leaning closer to me, so close I could smell his breath.   "I'm over here!" Amy groaned from behind the crates.

            "What are you doing over there you brat?" He said shifting his weight trying to see her. She gaged in response. He leaned in closer so his nose was just about touching mine. "Yea gets that girl under control and tells where yea parents left the script, then maybe I'll let yea live through the crash." He said, grinding his teeth. The first part of the sentence surprised me, but I was shocked when he told me were going to crash.

            "First-aval," I started out, "who said anything about a crash. And second-aval, what's this with "the script?" He looked into my eyes confused, a wild look in his eyes.

            "Yea saying yea don't know?" He said questionably, still searching my eyes.

            "Know about what!" I practically screamed. (If there's one thing I hate more than annoying people, it's annoying people not explaining what they're referring to.)

            "The Script." He said, a grin starting to creep up his face.

            "No?" I said questionably. By now Amy had emptied her stomach, and was at my side, cradling her hurt arm. I wrapped my arm around her, patting her back.

            "We'll, yea obviously no help to me, so, have fun in the crash! (Or should I say explosion)" he added under his breath. Laughing, he turned around and started toward the door. But before he exited, he stopped and turned around, grinning. "Show starts in five!" He laughed and closed the door behind him.