Chapter Nineteen
Kaden
One more month. One more month. A mantra I keep repeating over and over again in my head. Thirty days. Seven hundred and twenty hours. Forty-four thousand, six hundred and forty minutes. Two million, six hundred-seventy-eight thousand and four hundred seconds. But who’s counting.
Every mission I pray. I remember how close Jon was to being done before he lost his life. I try not to think about it. I try to shut out the dreams that keep invading my sleep. I have my books and I’m writing in my journal like Bryce suggested. It’s not helping.
I have sand in every crevice. Nothing seems to get rid of it. And the smells. I can’t even begin to describe the smells. So yeah, I pretty much hate this and really can’t wait to go home.
Alyse didn’t get pregnant this time, though not from the lack of trying. I guess it’s just not meant to be just yet.
The house is coming along. The structure is completed and the inside is nearly done. Alyse did a walkthrough the last time I spoke with her on a video call. She was grinning from ear to ear. She wanted to try to save money by just moving her furniture, but I insisted she at least get a new couch. Hers is too small. I picked out a huge sectional and emailed it to her. She loved it and didn’t try to fight me on it. I later found out that she paid for it. I let it go, though. I know she feels like she needs to contribute. I’m okay with that. I told her not to get used to it, though.
We are heading out tonight for a night mission. It’s a direct in and out. Those make me the most nervous. There’s a reason we don’t stay.
The flight is a little bumpy. There’s some kind of storm coming through. Our CO walks through and debriefs us quickly that there are also sand storms on the ground. We may have to circle for a while until it’s safe enough to land. This will put us off schedule so it’s imperative we act fast but efficient.
As soon as we land, I grab the clip board and start my rounds.
There’s a buzz in the air. I try to shake it off. The hairs on my arms are standing up like there is static.
Out of nowhere, the wind gusts and sand starts whipping me in my face. The plane suddenly shuts down. This isn’t good. I can’t hear or see anything. I feel along the side of the plane trying to find the opening of the cargo-bay door. I can’t breathe fully, so I trying to take short, quick breaths. With my face buried into the crook of my arm, I have my eyes and nose covered as much as I can. I still feel like I’m going to hyperventilate. Even my six foot four, two hundred and forty pounds is no good against the force of the wind and sand. I can feel my boots starting to slip. I finally feel the edge of the bay opening and curl my free hand around the steel. My glove isn’t getting a solid grip. Something slams into my side and my fingers come loose, causing me to slam down onto the tarmac. Images start to flash in my head of the last time this happened. The last thing I envision is Alyse in tears when everything goes black.