13.2 Unite

Several days pass by rather uneventfully, the last repair on the craft having been completed the day after your disclosure. Your nights have grown increasingly restless as your mind remains a mess of conflict. This night in particular has been clouded by unwanted feelings of discord. After what seems like an eternity, you finally find yourself drifting into unquiet sleep. You're lost in the black void of slumber when you're suddenly startled awake. Your gasp is muffled against the large hand that is pressed firmly against your mouth. Blinking up in surprise, you're barely able to make out Boyd's broad silhouette in the dark.

Breathing out in slightly relief, you slowly sit up, causing his hand to slip away. As your eyes adjust, you're able to make out his form better. You're just able to catch his subtle nod towards the door before he stands. Nodding back in understanding, you silently get up and follow the man. Keeping close to him, you do your best to remain quiet. When he reaches the door, you take a final glance back at James' sleeping figure. An uncomfortable feeling forms in your throat. Unfortunately, Boyd has already gently nudged the door open. Exhaling softly, you reluctantly follow in his footsteps. The large moon above finally provides enough light to get a better look at the man before you.

You're not entirely surprised to see your satchel thrown over his back in addition to his own backpack. After reaching the plane, you see he's already taken the liberty of loading the additional supplies needed. Though you're skeptical of the plane's ability to make a second flight, it seemed foolish to leave the extra fuel behind. The added weight will only put more strain on the already fragile engine. Shaking your head, you realize this is the least of your concerns at the moment. Since a key was never located, you haven't even determined if the engine will start. Glancing at Boyd nervously, you pause briefly before entering the craft. It's unbearably hot inside the compact metal interior, causing you to instantly break into a sweat.

Anxiously pushing your hair back, you wait until Boyd enters and closes the hatch painstakingly slowly. The warped frame was one of the few repairs you had been unable to complete. You're impressed by his ability to pull the aperture closed silently. You wait until he's taken the seat beside you before finally daring to speak.

"This might not work." You caution, the level of apprehension in your voice is all too evident.

"It will work." He replies firmly, though you find yourself unsure who he is trying to convince.

"Do you have any type of key?" You ask, wiping your clammy palms against your pants anxiously. "Or any small tools?"

The man seems to think for a moment before reaching into his bag. Biting the inside of your lip, you hold out your hand. A slight shiver runs across your body when his fingers brush against your skin. When his hand pulls away you see what appears to be a house key in your palm.

"Try not to break it." He requests in an uncharacteristically quiet tone.

You hesitate for a moment before attempting to clear your thoughts. It's now or never and time is only continuing to slip by. Gingerly, you slide the key into the ignition at an angle. It's obviously not the right fit, but if you can **** it in, it should work. It easily moves past the first mechanisms without issue. However, half way in you feel it begin to jam. Exhaling audibly, you shift your weight, trying to press more against it. You find it difficult to maintain your grip as you grow increasingly sweaty. You can't help but let out a small gasp when Boyd places a hand over yours. Your breath catches in your throat as his fingers wrap around your smaller hand.

A slight wince flashes over your face when he presses his weight against the key, causing it to dig into your palm. Thankfully, with his help it finally slides past the last catch. His hand remains curled around your own as you tentatively begin turning the key. Your heart all but stops when you hear a click and the engine sputters to life.

"Oh my god." You mutter in disbelief, quickly looking over at the man with sudden hope.

"We have to go, now." He asserts, glancing out the side window at the hangar.

Nodding quickly, you reluctantly pull your hand from his and begin flipping some of the switches. After a moment, your hand wraps around the center stick before easing it forward. You're jostled slightly as the plane lurches forward. You can tell it's going to be a rough take off but try not to focus on this. As the plane continues moving forward, you use your free hand to quickly buckle your harness. You see Boyd do the same in your peripherals.

"Here goes nothing." You laugh nervously before jerking the center stick back.

A slight rush of exhilaration courses through you when the craft begins rising. Looking out your own side window, you're barely able to make out the ground below before it disappears in the darkness.

"What did I tell you?" You hear Boyd remark in a somewhat smug yet pleased tone.

Looking over at the man, you see an unfamiliar expression on his typically stoic face. It takes a moment for you to recognize the look to be one of happiness. Your heart unexpectedly skips a beat at the knowledge that you helped bring him this joy. Blushing lightly, you quickly look away and focus on the task at hand. To your dismay the majority of the flight is spent in semi-uncomfortable silence. Each time you think of breaking the tension, you suddenly find yourself too hesitant to speak. Resigning yourself to the situation, you concentrate on trying to keep on course. Without light pollution it's all but impossible to make out the landscape below. Your only hope is to follow the possibly broken compass and hope for the best.

After several hours you notice the tank getting uncomfortably close to empty. Thankfully, the first rays of dawn arrive not long after. With this you're finally able to better gauge your location. By some miracle it seems as if you were able to stay fairly on course.

"We'll have to land soon."

Your voice finally pierces the long held silence, sounding soft and almost apologetic. Though you're still looking straight ahead you can tell the man has turned to face you.

"We should be nearing the edge of the forest." Boyd remarks, reaching over to pull the map from your lap. "Can we make it that far?"

Swallowing nervously, you look at the fuel gauge before nodding. It will be cutting it close, but as long as you find a good stretch of land you should be fine. According to the map there's nothing but vast farmlands past the border. After another half hour you finally begin approaching the destination. To your dismay, you can already tell the area has been heavily altered by the destructive **** of falling meteors. Looking over at Boyd again, you can tell he's also aware of the upcoming difficulties. Steeling your nerves, you prepare for the inevitably challenging landing. Reaching over, you move to release the landing wheels. You flinch visibly at the loud metallic whine that follows.

"The compartment is stuck." You exhale in exasperation while slightly readjusting your speed.

Your attention is quickly drawn over to Boyd when you hear his harness click open. A confused frown covers your face when he begins getting out of his seat.

"Sit down," You quickly request, trying to balance your focus between him and steering. "It's not safe to get up."

He doesn't answer or comply, instead moving to the cabin of the plane. You let out another anxious exhale, unable to stop the stubborn man. Through periodic glances over your shoulder you see him make his way to the back of the cabin and begin messing around with the wheel compartment. After a few moments you hear a loud leaden groan then see a light flick on, indicating the wheels have been released. A moment later Boyd has returned to his seat, looking slightly more flushed than before. Shaking your head slightly, you can't help but to feel appreciative of his initiative. Landing without wheels would have only made the situation all the worse.

"Well," You remark tentatively before shifting the center column. "Here goes nothing."