Page 14 of Save Me

Roadrunner still couldn’t believe he was leaving. “So, Gator, where are you headed?”

Hunt kept shoving socks into his duffel bag without looking up. “Flagstaff. Got a job flying choppers for a charter service.”

Rat frowned. “That’s a long way from Louisiana. I kinda thought you’d be headed home to family.”

Hunt paused, and this time he looked up and began carefully scanning their faces, imprinting the moment forever in his memory.

“This place was home. You are my family. Don’t go and get yourselves killed,” he said, then shouldered his duffel bag and walked out, with them following behind him.

A soldier and a Humvee were waiting for him. He tossed his bags in the back, crawled into the passenger seat and never looked back as they drove away.

Rat had a lump in his throat and a knot in his belly. It felt like losing a brother. “Dammit. Somebody slap me. I have a sudden urge to cry.”

Roadrunner cleared his throat and swiped at his eyes. “He never did get over losing Preacher.”

Rat shook his head. “I think he lost someone who mattered more, long before he came here.”

HUNT SPENT HIS first night as a civilian in a hotel in nearby Fayetteville. He had a flight out to Flagstaff the next morning, and after he got to his room, he checked in with Pete Randolph, the man who would be his new boss.

“Hey, Hunt. Where are you?” Pete asked.

“Still in North Carolina. I have a flight out tomorrow. I’ll be in Flagstaff sometime late afternoon.”

“Awesome! We’re really looking forward to you joining the crew, but take time to find living quarters. Tend to whatever business you need to do, and then give me a call when you’ve settled, and I’ll show you around.”

“Thanks, Pete. I appreciate this.”

“Hey, I’m the one who got lucky. You’re the most highly trained chopper pilot I’ve ever hired. Even with all my years in the air, you’ve got me beat. You flew Longbows, man. An Apache pilot is an ace in my book.”

“Ex-Apache pilot. I like flying, but I can do without being shot at. I’ll be in touch,” he said, then disconnected.

HUNT WAS AT the airport early the next morning. He grabbed a sweet roll and a coffee on his way to his gate, and without thinking, began searching the faces of every approaching female in the concourse, while ignoring the looks women were giving him.

The aviator sunglasses he wore had a twofold purpose. Wearing them to hide his eyes was like wearing a mask, as well as using them for blocking out the sun. He didn’t have civilian clothes that fit anymore, and was wearing dark charcoal tactical pants and a plain gray T-shirt beneath his flight jacket. The shirt clung to his abs like a lover, giving a hint of the dog tags beneath it.

His boots were old, but polished. He was wearing a baseball cap with an Army star insignia, and his black leather flight jacket with an official Army patch on the back, and an Apache chopper patch on his sleeve.

He knew the odds of seeing Lainie again were infinitesimal, but through all the times he thought he would die in a country not his own, luck had been with him. It stood to reason he could get lucky again.

When he reached the gate, he stood near a window to use the sill for a table, and set his coffee on it while he ate. It was the first time in years that the choices he was making were all his own. The weight of duty had been shed, and he felt lighter. If he wanted, he could search for Lainie now. But there was a part of him afraid to find out where she was. He didn’t want to know if she’d married someone else. He couldn’t bear the thought of her sleeping in someone else’s arms. So, he let the thought fade, and decided to let fate play the hand for him.

When they began boarding, he fell in line, and once on the plane quickly took his seat. It felt strange being in a regular passenger plane, but he wasn’t flying over hostile territory anymore, and after the plane was in the air, he stretched his legs and put the cap in his lap.

A flight attendant came by later and quietly whispered, “Thank you for your service,” as she handed him a beverage.

He grasped the cup and nodded.

And elderly man in the opposite aisle had already seen the patches on Hunt’s jacket, and leaned across the aisle.

“Active duty?” he asked.

Hunt shook his head. “Not anymore.”

“Ah...headed home, then,” the man said.

“I’m already home,” Hunt said. “Just looking for a place to be,” then finished his beverage, set the empty cup on the tray table and closed his eyes.

After that, nobody bothered him. He changed planes in Atlanta, and then had a straight flight to Flagstaff from there. By the time he landed, it was late afternoon. He caught a cab to the hotel where he’d made a reservation, and as soon as he had checked in and dumped his stuff in his room, he went down to the dining room and ordered steak with all the trimmings, and sweet tea. It wasn’t southern sweet, but it suited him. Afterward, he went straight back to his room to shower and shave, then kicked back in bed with the intent of watching a movie, and fell asleep within minutes.

---