Chapter 11 #2
Blake spent his life in fire stations. He knew what it was like to be choking in a pool of testosterone.
The young guys always had a chip on their shoulders.
They had to prove themselves—to the veterans and to themselves.
Drink the most rancid ‘brotein’ shakes and lift the heaviest weights.
Alpha male bullshit that Blake often found himself pulled into, a slave to his instincts.
It was better now that he was older. He’d done the dick measuring contests, won some, and lost some. Which is why he wasn’t fazed when Phin tried. He was the biggest among them, but his confidence was brittle. There were demons behind his gray eyes. He could see the big man coming a mile away.
But then, Blake could see most things. Except for Gabriel.
He hadn’t seen him or his backyard confession coming.
It was probably the situation, but he couldn’t remember ever having a conversation like that with anyone.
Not with his parents, not with friends, and certainly not with romantic partners.
Women loved the cold, menacing act until they realized it wasn’t an act. Blake wasn’t going to miraculously let them in after a few dates.
I can change him, is cute in theory. In practice, it’s an exercise in futility.
But Gabriel was different. Why? Hell, if Blake knew.
He told himself that when this was all over, he would probably never see the soldier again.
But the thing was, he couldn’t picture that.
He couldn’t picture never seeing Gabriel again.
Even Judd and Phin. It was as if he was living in a perfect sphere where time stood still.
Logically, he knew it would end. All things ended. But now, in this warm room with the gentle sounds of breathing and Tommy’s toes digging into his leg…it felt like forever was possible.
Tommy shifted, his nose wrinkling as he batted something invisible off his face.
Almost as if he could sense the gloom surrounding Blake and wanted to knock it away.
He found himself smiling at the young man, snorting softly.
He hoped it was a nice dream. What did vegans even dream about, anyway? A nice block of tofu? A crunchy carrot?
When he turned, he caught the sparkle of hazel eyes. Gabriel was watching him, awake but unmoving. In the dawn glow they were almost molten brass. Blake wondered if he was watching him because he didn’t trust him to stay awake.
Or if he was thinking about Blake’s eyes, too.
They held each other’s gaze. He felt caught.
The urge to run and the desire to see every flickering color in Gabriel’s eyes change as the sun shifted were at war.
Belatedly, he realized this was another one of those moments—an aberration that felt like forever.
One movement, a particularly harsh exhale, would shatter it.
Send them tumbling back into whatever rift they had just cleared.
Time would continue, the world would keep spinning.
Just one finger. That’s all he had to move.
But he didn’t. He couldn’t.
His heart crashed against his chest. Skin buzzing with the tension he didn’t notice.
Not when he was just beginning to see the speckles of green in Gabriel’s eyes, or the way his dusky lashes quivered above pupils bright with…
something? Something Blake couldn’t define but knew was mirrored in his own eyes.
And shouldn’t that be terrifying? Something his brain couldn’t quantify, and his body seemed to know all too well. Terrifying in the limbo of the unexpected. A letter with good or bad news, unopened and staring at you. The mystery prize at the bottom of a cereal box.
Good and bad, wrapped up in one undefinable, magnetic pair of hazel eyes under helmet hair so bad, it was almost funny.
Tommy snuffled. Phin huffed. Judd was eerily still. A plane soared overhead, the noise tickling Blake’s ear. It was louder than the erratic beating of the blood in his ears.
Gabriel’s eyes widened at the same moment Blake realized.
A plane.
He bolted off the couch, bare feet slapping the floor as he tore for the roof of the building, up the unfinished stairs, and fumbled with the lock on the door.
Bright sunlight stung his eyes, but he pushed forward. He could hear yelling behind him, but he didn’t stop. The rough tarry roof ripped at his feet, but he was looking up, hand shading his eyes so he could locate the noise.
“There,” Gabriel said breathlessly, pointing to three identical fighter planes in perfect formation.
Judd, Phin, and Tommy followed them up. Blinking sleep from their eyes as they looked at the sky.
Planes in the sky weren’t unusual. But there hadn’t been any since the invasion began. Blake hadn’t seen so much as a news helicopter in the sky.
“F-35s,” Gabriel said as he squinted into the sun. “Navy.”
“Fucking Top Gun!” Judd hollered, only to be shushed by Phin with an elbow to his stomach.
The three sleek planes moved in V formation. They were close, not shifting with the wind like a bird but punching through, creating their own air waves. Flying low, the noise hit them moments after they passed.
“They’re heading for Capitol Hill,” Tommy breathed, eyes wide. “Do you think—?”
“We finally got some goddamn air support,” Phin mumbled, a grin splitting his square jaw.
“They’re going for that.”
Blake didn’t know what ‘that’ was, but he traced the trajectory of the planes until he saw what it was.
The curved hull of some kind of ship sitting low.
Clouds clustered around the thing, dissipating against the metal sphere the size of the entirety of downtown.
It was so big they couldn’t see the whole thing.
It disappeared into the atmosphere, hazy behind cloud cover.
A spaceship.
It was the first time he was seeing it, but Blake didn’t have enough time to focus on that; he was too busy glancing back at the planes.
The front plane shifted to the left, the second two following suit. From this close, with the planes flying so low, they could see something shifting on its underside. They looked like little missiles.
Before the missiles could eject, something banged. It was loud enough, or powerful enough, that even miles away Blake could feel the vibration through his feet.
The first plane exploded into a fireball. Pieces of the plane turned into shrapnel, striking the second. It wobbled midair, the pilot struggling to keep it level as its forward punch turned into a careening spiral.
“C’mon Maverick,” Judd whispered under his breath. “Eject. Why the fuck isn’t he ejecting?”
The plane was getting closer to the big ship. If the pilot didn’t pull up soon, the jet was going to crash right into it. Closer and closer, and still the canopy remained affixed to the plane.
Phin swore under his breath and grabbed Tommy, wrapping a big arm around his neck and tucking his face into his chest. Tommy grabbed his bicep, trying to peel his arm away, but Phin held tighter.
Blake stopped breathing.
The plane crashed into the sleek side of the ship. A twisted pile of flames and molten metal, it slid to the ground, leaving nothing but a scorch mark on the pristine matte surface.
“You didn’t need to see that kid,” Phin rumbled, finally releasing a wet eyed Tommy.
Blake realized he was holding onto Gabriel’s arm. His fingers digging into his skin. He jerked away and apologized lowly.
“There’s the third!” Judd hissed, pointing to where the third plane had managed to peel away from the damage.
It was making a reapproach, coming in hot down one of the larger avenues.
Dangerously low, the pilot was holding steady between buildings and monuments.
Gunfire erupted from the streets—Blake could see the flaming tips of the alien’s rounds striking toward the plane.
The plane was winged, but the pilot kept it steady.
The big ship was silent. A seam had opened up just above where the second plane had hit. A long muzzle of a gun sticking out. That must have been what shot the first plane down. It was massive. Was that why they didn’t have air support before?
Ignoring the missiles, the quick plane strafed the side of the big ship with its machine gun.
Blake knew the rounds must be huge, but they didn’t do a thing to the hull.
Again, the plane pulled off its approach and made a big loop, coming up the street again.
Its missiles dropped, and it let off the first and then the second.
Accompanying explosions rose up from the streets.
“What…?” Blake breathed.
“He’s providing cover for ground troops,” Gabriel mumbled, almost to himself, as his eyes followed the plane. “Hell of a pilot.”
Blake turned to him at the awe in his voice. Gabriel’s face was tight, eyebrows drawn as his eyes tracked the imperceptible movements Blake couldn’t see. Or understand.
Performing a complicated twist, the plane came around and began strafing the ground with its machine guns. The rat-a-tat of bullets being fired was just as loud several miles away as if it were just over them.
Several of the alien’s weapons hit the plane. Black smoke poured from one of the engines under the wing, but the pilot made a second pass, lower this time, although Blake wasn’t sure if that was a choice or not.
Another boom rattled the rocks on the roof and Blake felt the breath die in his lungs.
Was he about to watch another pilot die?
Just as the rattling finished, the canopy above the cockpit blasted off, acrylic glinting in the early morning sun as the pilot ejected. Seconds after the chair cleared, the plane exploded into a massive fireball.
“He ejected!” Tommy pointed, as if they weren’t already glued to the scene in front of them. “He’ll be ok, right?”
“Ejecting is dangerous,” Judd said clinically. “And that’s when you’re not dropping into an actual warzo—ow!” Phin had pinched him, eyes dark and threatening. “I mean, yeah. He’s gonna float down nice and gentle.” Judd rubbed his forearm where a deep bruise was already forming.
Blake watched as a bright white chute opened, fluttering in the breeze as it dropped back down to earth much faster than he thought was safe. He couldn’t really see the pilot; they were just a smudge against the skyline.
“Why didn’t he shoot the ship?”
Gabriel shook his head. “He knew his armament wouldn’t touch it. Decided to fire where he could do the most good.”
Blake could see smoke and the tips of flames from where the two missiles had landed. That pilot had probably saved some lives. He couldn’t imagine making a decision like that. Did the pilot know he wouldn’t get out of there alive? Did he volunteer like Gabriel did?
And why weren’t there more? He watched the parachute disappear behind some buildings and he wondered if that pilot, the one who had just watched two of his comrades die, was asking the exact same thing.