SECOND DRAFT: Hard Bank Left

3

Six months: six months had passed since he had seen her last. She had disappeared with no warning, leaving him to do the final touches to The WindSong on his own. He could have used her help attaining the hydrogen for the three large pontoons, or laying the flooring, or attaching the glass spheres. Her connections could have seriously lowered the price of renting the hangar and the crane and all the other equipment he managed to scrap together. No, he managed, barely. It had left him on the border of destitution, but it's not like he couldn't handle it. Since then, the three runs he's made and their accompanying paychecks had more than covered the losses he'd suffered. And then he got the call.

Still, it bothered him, the abandonment. He'd gotten used to her presence, her helpfulness, her feedback. Then poof, gone, no warning, no note, she could have died for all he knew. The instant he had the income to wander he did so, tracking her down as best he could. It all started with a man named Dustan. Krys brought him back to the hangar one time, just once, the day before she disappeared. If anything could be a best bet for finding her, it would be Dustan. There were only two things he knew about the man: he and Krys were from the same hometown, and he gave off the serious vibe of not being able to be trusted.

New London bound, Graham reached out to Krys's parents. They hadn't seen her either. This worried him more than anything, more than her initial disappearance, more than her not making contact with him. Those things could be explained away with the advent of a new boyfriend, which seriously hurt, but he could understand. But her parents? Krys only had her father left, and while she didn't exactly get along with her stepmother, she would have at least checked in with her father, if anything, to make sure that her sister didn't worry.

New London was less than a day away when he got the call. All he would have needed from her would be to hear her voice, know she was okay and that he could move on, but the words "Graham, I need you," came with that voice.

He barely heard the docking tower when he brought The WindSong into dock, shoved a wad full of cash at the attendant and waited. Krys should have already been there already. Of course she wasn't; when was she ever on time? Eventually he sat, ordered a coffee and waited - for three hours!

Her sister appeared first. Graham had come to recognize her by her odd sense of style. No matter the weather, she wore a skirt, clunky boots, an overlarge pilot's jacket, and a skull cap. The colors and cut of the dress and cap varied greatly from day to day, but overall her dress was remarkable repetitive. She had a bag over one shoulder and kept looking over the other. The look of concern is what got Graham. Lia didn't concern herself over much, least of all Krys. The few times they had hosted her at the hangar, her selfishness read loudly. What could have happened to warrant her behavior?

Ginger hair caught sunlight, drawing his attention. He only knew one person with hair that bright. He stood, hesitantly approached, noting her hunched and guarded posture. What had happened? What had happened to the strong, confident woman he had come to know so well? Why wasn't she standing up straight? Why wasn't she looking for him? Where was her attentiveness? Her alertness? Her energy? Where was Krys? His Krys? His best friend? What had happened? What had he done to her?

Graham hadn't noticed that he had picked up speed. Nearly tripping over himself when he reached her, he found himself suddenly enveloped by shaking arms, a tangle of red hair in his face. What... the fuck? This wasn't Krys. He had to check and be sure. Gently, kindly, he found her face buried somewhere in his chest, lifted it until he could see her eyes. Nope, that was definitely Krys, definitely her gray blue eyes swimming in tears.

"Come on. Let's get you home."

She nodded in compliance as he lead them back to the ship. Lia followed wordlessly, helped Graham get Krys situated and left, insisting that she had to get back to work, elsewise she'd stay and help. Graham took this as a kind gesture, but the relief of seeing Lia go outweighed any "help" she might have offered.