EPILOGUE
The four of them were quiet as brad piloted the 'copter back toward the city, and though he had a million questions, something about their silence didn't invite conversation. Chris and Jill were both staring out the hatch window at the spreading fire that had been the estate, their expressions grim.
Barry was slumped against the cabin wall, looking down at his hands like he'd never seen them before.
The new girl was quietly moving among them, treating their wounds without saying a word.
Brad kept his mouth shut, still feeling crappy about taking off earlier. He'd been through hell since then, flying around in circles and watching the fuel gauge slowly drop. It had been a total nightmare, and he had to take a piss like nobody's business.
And then that monster. . .
He shuddered. Whatever it had been, he was glad it was dead. It had taken all of his nerve not to fly away the second he'd laid eyes on it and as far as he was concerned, he deserved a little consideration for managing to kick the launcher out the door.
He glanced back at the silent foursome, wondering if he should tell them about the weird call he'd gotten over the radio. Right after the rookie had screamed something about a heliport through the static, a clear, solid signal had come in, a male voice calmly giving him the exact coordinates. The guy had been listening in, which was weird, but the fact that he knew the location well enough to give Brad directions was downright spooky.
He frowned, trying to remember the mystery man's name. Thad? Terrence?
Trent. That's it, he said his name was Trent.
Brad decided that it would keep for another day.
For now, he just wanted to go home.
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