The Harvest (28 page)

“I’ve got to get up for a minute,” she said
softly. “You want something to drink?”

“Yes, please,” he replied, his voice
scratchy.

He blinked his eyes several times to moisten
them, watching Kelly head to the front of the plane where the
coolers were. She retrieved a sandwich and a bottle of water,
bringing them to Shane, then she continued to the back of the
plane, presumably to the bathroom.

“Ah,” Steve said, twisting around and looking
over the headrest of the seat in front of him. “The sleeping beauty
is awake. Must’ve gotten kissed.”

“Funny,” Shane replied, yawning and rubbing
his eyes.

“And with that rank breath,” Steve goaded.
“The girl must be totally in love with you. I’d personally rather
kiss a dead skunk’s butthole than have you sleeping on my
shoulder.”

“Bite me,” Shane said.

Licking his teeth, he realized Steve might be
right. He must’ve been sleeping with his mouth gaping open the
entire time. Drinking some water and taking a bite of the sandwich,
he hoped to make an improvement before Kelly returned.

“Here dude,” Steve said, reaching around and
handing him a tube of toothpaste. “You’ve got to be more prepared.
You’ll have to use your finger—I ain’t sharing my toothbrush.”

Shane chuckled, and then leaned forward so he
could see the seat next to Steve. Anfisa was asleep there, slumped
low with her leg across his.

“Oh, look who’s the little lovebird?” Shane
whispered, taking his revenge. “You’re so whipped; you even thought
to bring a toothbrush and toothpaste so you can be all fresh for
her.”

“Maybe you should take a tip or two from the
master,” Steve replied.

Chuckling, Shane put a squirt of the
toothpaste on his finger, balanced the tube on Steve’s big head,
and unlocked his seatbelt. He walked to the back of the plane,
rubbing the toothpaste on his teeth. Half of the passengers were
asleep. The others looked up at him as he passed. Their expressions
were glum, but some of them smiled. Were they flying toward victory
or their deaths? At best, it was likely a mix of both. Either way,
they were brothers and sisters on this adventure, closer than he
imagined strangers had ever become in such a short period of
time.

At the bathrooms, a door opened, and Kelly
stepped out. Shane paused, his foamy finger in his mouth. She
laughed, and he gave her a toothpaste smile. Holding the door open
for him, she smacked his bottom as he entered.

“What?” he asked, turning to look at her.

“Oops,” she flirted, then turned and walked
forward in the plane.

A surge of lust making him dizzy, he watched
her go, suddenly feeling like the luckiest man in the world. Her
jeans and black tank top showed off her figure, which had always
been fit before but now looked even better, displaying the benefit
of all the hard exercise they’d endured. Thank goodness she was
over the stupid stuff he’d said last night. If only they had more
time together. For a few days of normalcy—time to take her to the
movies or to hang out with her at the lake. For that, he’d give his
throwing arm.

“Do you reckon we would have come together if
it weren’t for the end of the world?” he whispered after he’d
returned from the bathroom and was settling down next to Kelly.

“Yes, actually. We would’ve.” She smiled
sweetly at him, flooding his heart with warmth. “Don’t think, Shane
Tucker, I haven’t noticed you giving me the googly eyes for the
last, oh I don’t know, forever,” she whispered, like she knew he
didn’t want Steve to hear. Kissing his cheek, she squeezed his
thigh and sent a warm jolt through him.

“Then why didn’t we ever hook up?” he asked,
their faces only a few inches apart.

“Because you never asked,” she whispered,
leaning closer. “Why? Was there some other girl?”

“No way. Well, at least not all the time,” he
teased.

She slapped his chest and leaned back,
feigning jealousy.

“I just didn’t have the balls to ask you,” he
admitted. “Figured you wouldn’t give me the time of day.”

She leaned in and pressed her lips to his. He
hated that the wonderful feeling of being this close to her might
never have happened, hated that something so awesome was a result
of something so horrible. She lingered in the kiss, her eyes half
closed. It was the best moment of his life, and yet, it broke his
heart because he feared for her. The confusing mix of emotion made
heat surge in him. He wanted to be far away with her, to hold her
in his arms, to be alone with her. But that was impossible. His
inner fire morphed into motivation. They’d destroy the Anunnaki,
and they’d survive. They had to so he could have more time with
her, to stare at her and touch her, to learn everything about
her.

“We’ll be making a landing attempt at Cairo International Airport
in one hour,” Jones announced over the aircraft’s PA system.

“A landing attempt?” Steve sat up in his
seat, Anfisa stretching next to him. “What in Pete’s hell does he
mean by that?”

“At least it sounds better than making a
crash landing,” Tracy observed.

She was sitting across the aisle, sharing a
blanket with Jules. She caught Shane looking her way and smiled. He
was happy his friends had this last bit of time to rest, even if
the flight wasn’t overly comfortable. With all the things that had
happened to them in the last month and what lay head, the respite
seemed like the calm in the eye of a category-five hurricane.

His focus fell on a stack of green crates
with “U.S. Army” stenciled on them strapped in to the left of the
cockpit door. Judging by the length and thickness of the
rectangular boxes, Shane expected they were filled with weapons.
But he knew they couldn’t be the plasma rifles. They’d be issued
those once they were inside the Anunnaki ship. These had to be guns
to fight off kids who might attack on the way to the pyramids.

He thought of the battles they fought before,
of the faces of boys and girls he’d shot when they were in Atlanta.
The slack expression of death and sudden look of innocence they all
shared were ever present in his thoughts. Right or wrong, he’d
taken their lives. He couldn’t stomach the idea of killing
again.

“We should all eat,” Laura said, standing up.
“Who knows when we’ll have another chance?”

Her black hair was pulled into a tight braid,
and her face seemed leaner, the same as everyone else. Lily had
given them their choice of clothing, and Laura had gotten ahold of
a makeup kit. Wearing all black, with dark eyeliner and lipstick
that accentuated her pale skin, she looked like some kind of
commando vampire, thirsty for blood.

Although she’d performed beautifully in the
simulations, she was the only person on his team who wasn’t
battle-tested. He’d have to keep an eye on her, but he had a
feeling she’d do fine. She walked to the front of the plane,
hanging onto the backrest of the seats to stabilize herself as the
aircraft bounced toward its destination. It tilted down at a slight
angle, indicating they were descending to Cairo. With that
nurturing manner that didn’t seem to fit her Goth appearance, Laura
passed out bottles of water and sandwiches to everyone who didn’t
already have some.

The passengers were quiet, eating their food
and likely reflecting on the hell that lay ahead. Adrenaline stole
Shane’s appetite, but he forced down two sandwiches while thinking
about Rebecca and the others who must’ve made the meal. It was one
more reminder—the fate of the entire world depended on the people
on this plane. Thank goodness they made simple ham and cheese.
Anything fancier and he wouldn’t have been able to touch it.

“Fasten your seatbelts,” Jones announced.
“The airport runway is obstructed by abandoned aircraft. We’ve
found a narrow strip where we can land, but it’s going to be
rough.”

Seatbelts clicked, and murmurs passed through
the plane. Shane took a gulp of his water, trying to keep his food
down. He felt a bit of motion sickness coming on. Mixed with the
excitement, it tore at his insides.

A loud mechanical whir startled him, and
Shane glanced at Kelly.

“It’s normal,” she replied softly.

He’d never flown before, and he was
embarrassed and a bit shocked that the descent made him nervous,
especially after all he’d been through.

Out of the window, he could see the sun
rising in the east, lighting the tan desert landscape below. The
city of Cairo was visible. Much of it looked poor and ancient. Some
of the buildings were black, scarred by fire. Bent columns of smoke
rose from others. Off in the distance, geometrical splotches of
green represented the farmlands that surrounded the city and were
used to feed its inhabitants. Although inhospitable desert
surrounded the rural area, it looked far more inviting to him than
the city below. He guessed the rest of the kids from Leeville would
agree.

“Looks rough down there,” Steve observed,
sounding glum but not overly agitated by the fact that they’d soon
be on those streets. He made a good linebacker, calm and powerful.
Shane just had to point him in the right direction and say go, and
Steve would crush anything in his path.

Always the quarterback, Shane’s mind started
coming up with every possible nightmarish scenario they might run
into in Cairo. It might be better to allow his friends to be jaded
and more relaxed—the result of all the hard training and the neural
upload—but Shane intended to obsess over each second of the
mission. He’d make sure he was ready to lead his team through
whatever this city, and Giza beyond, could throw at them.

The plane made a slow, sweeping turn around
the airport, listing right so Shane had a clear view of where Jones
intended to land. Aircraft were scattered randomly across the
tarmac, blocking runways, mangled from colliding with others, and
buried in the side of the terminal, which was mostly burned. They
had been away from the death and destruction for only a short
while, yet it felt like a lifetime ago when he and his friends were
stepping over the corpses back home. He could see random bodies
sprawled on the tarmac, dreading getting down closer to them.
They’d be rotten by now.

“Everyone, hang on,” Jones ordered, his voice
calm and fitting for the old pro at crash landing that he was.

The plane flew away from the airport and came
back around with a hard bank. Shane’s stomach wasn’t happy about it
at all. He gritted his teeth, his seatbelt the only thing
preventing him from falling on top of Kelly in the turn.

They leveled off, and the nose of the
aircraft tilted up. Shane could see the city drawing closer as they
descended. Then hangars and wrecked planes flashed by his window.
The landing gear hit the runway hard, with a loud yelp from the
tires. The shock of the impact jarred his teeth. Jones immediately
got on the brakes, the engines screaming as he reversed thrust.

Shane pressed his legs into the seat in front
of him to keep from falling forward. Kelly hugged his arm, which
he’d streched in front of her. Even over the roar, the sound of
screeching tires permeated the cargo bay. The plane shook, rattled,
and twisted back and forth. He held his breath, waiting to be
slammed out of his seat when they collided with another aircraft
stranded on the runway.

As suddenly as the violence of the landing
started, it stopped. Jones brought the plane to a halt, and the
engines whined down. Shane was stunned. There was no way they’d
made it to the ground in one piece. The other passengers shared the
shaken expression he expected he wore, then Petrov let out a whoot,
and they all started clapping.

“I’d say that’s about all the proof anyone
needs,” Maurice proclaimed, unbuckling his seatbelt and standing.
“Luck is with us,” he hesitated, “because there ain’t no way we’d
be alive if it wasn’t.”

Nervous chuckles passed through the others.
Shane guessed the preacher’s son was about to make a religious
comment, but he’d pulled back at the last second because some of
the others tended to get uncomfortable when he had in the past.

“Okay people,” Jones said, stepping through
the cockpit door. “We need to get you equipped and on your way
ASAP.”

Jones removed the lids of the crates,
revealing a variety of guns, as Shane suspected. Dr. Blain opened
the side doors of the military aircraft and was swinging guns
mounted to the fuselage out of the openings.

“These are AK-47s,” he said, lifting a
distressed rifle with a wooden stalk and grip on it. “They are very
reliable and somewhat common in these areas, so they won’t raise
suspicion.”

“I’ll take one of those,” Steve said,
relieving Jones of the gun with gleaming eyes. “And one of these.”
He retrieved a short-barreled shotgun with a pistol grip out of the
crate. “And, oh yeah, what’s that?”