No Mercy

Chapter 21

I don't dare open my eyes as my claws dig into the vinyl seat in front of me, mostly in terror, but partially to prevent myself from being thrown about the small body of the plane.

The pilot turns his head slightly to look back at us, his voice booming through the headset we all have placed around our ears. "Sorry, we're going through a little turbulence at the mo-"

"Don't fucking talk to me!" My voice catches in my throat as the plane suddenly drops what feels like a thousand feet in a second, though it was probably just ten. "Just focus on flying the fucking plane!"

What little fluid is left in my stomach finishes its acrobatic performance before diving out of my mouth. I wrench the dangerously small paper bag to my mouth just in time to catch the putrid substance flowing from my lips.

Who would have thought the great Rylan Mercy would be afraid of a little plane ride? Deniel taunts as we are pitched to the right.

Fuck you. I moan as I carefully clench the mostly full bag in my hands and lean my forehead against the blessedly cold window. Someone takes the bag out of my hands and I don't fight them, taking my now free hands and wrapping them around my torso to hold myself together.

"I can't do this much longer," I whisper to no one in particular.

"Don't worry!" The pilot yells back with a smile in his voice, his words bouncing around the inside of my head through the mic. "We should be touching down in about two hours!"

●●●

I tumble out of the plane on shaky legs, unable to focus on anything but getting firm ground under my feet. I flop down face first onto the asphalt and press my cheek onto the gravelly surface, sucking in deep breaths as my stomach threatens to vomit the acid left in it. I can feel a person crouch down beside me, and a hand smooths back the mess of my once neatly groomed bun.

"You've never been sick on a plane before," my father murmurs as the back of his palm moves to rest on my forehead, testing if I have a fever.

"I've also never been on a plane to hell piloted by the Devil himself," I groan as I feel my stomach finally start to settle.

I hear the evil laugh of the pilot echoing from somewhere in front of me, so I peel my eyes open to glare at him. Instead I see my father kneeling right in front of me and Deniel preparing to disembark the Devil's chariot. I look around for Ezra and see his unconscious face smashed against the back window of the plane.

"When did you knock him out?"

Deniel grunts as he turns around to drag Ezra out of the plane behind him. "Probably half an hour ago."

I slowly push myself to a sitting position, careful that I don't make any quick movements. "How long until he wakes up?"

"At least another three hours." Deniel groans as he lowers Ezra's body to the ground next to me. "I pumped him full of so much shit a normal person would have overdosed."

Concern courses through me as I force myself to laugh at Deniel's poor excuse for a joke. I stare at Ezra's peaceful face for a moment, completely understanding on a superficial level why Luna paired the two of us together. Once you get past the surface though, that is where I start to have some problems with Luna's choice.

I look away from him as I ask how far away we are. Deniel lays down next to me as he groans out that we are about six hours away.

I groan as well as I push myself to my feet. "Okay. The Jeep is going to be able to take us until we're about 3 hours out. We'll have to hike the rest. Let's get as far as we can before he wakes up. Then we'll take a little break before we push through to the end. We'll switch off carrying him about every 45 minutes or until we get tired. Who wants to be first?"