Page 2 of The Final Battle


  Chapter 2: The Ride Home

  Cindy scooched over to the passenger seat when Jimmy walked over and hopped into the rocket. "Find what you needed in the shed?" she asked while putting her feet up on the dashboard.

  Jimmy frowned and began lifting the rocket into the sky. "Yeah, I guess." As he began to pilot the rocket like a robot, he let his mind wander.

  The day had started out innocently enough. One last adventure before school started again tomorrow. Pack a picnic for lunch and head to the moon. Play a little low-gravity golf. Yeah. Great idea, he muttered inside his head.

  As soon as they set down Jimmy could tell that something was wrong. That instinctual gnawing you get when some miniscule detail you can't really describe doesn't seem right. He tried to ignore it, convince himself it was just his anxiety over going back to school tomorrow, but he couldn't suppress it.

  It was a good thing that he didn't. While everyone else was laughing and talking, he had his eyes peeled on the horizon. He saw something moving. He had squinted to see it but couldn't make it out.

  He ran back to his rocket and grabbed his emergency supplies. He opened the metallic box and rummaged inside. He threw aside his first aid kit, flare gun, headsets, and pulse rifle. He finally grabbed his binoculars and stared straight ahead.

  Over a dozen robotic droids were coming at them. He warned everyone. They had spent hours taking them out one by one, slowly advancing towards the horizon. They soon saw the shed, and realized who must have been inside it.

  With their ammo dwindling down to only one extra magazine, Jimmy had sent Libby out to distract the droids so that he could make a run for the shed, which was where he assumed they were being controlled from. She had gotten shot in the leg. He'd immediately turned back and pulled her to the relative safety that lay behind the large boulder. The bullet had passed right through, not cutting any major arteries. And that was when he had made his macho run.

  "Jimmy!" Cindy's voice finally interrupted his thoughts. "Big Brain! You there?"

  Jimmy angrily switched the rocket over to auto-pilot and spun around to stare at her. "There is no need to shout," he murmured while rubbing his aching head.

  "Well, I've been trying to get your attention for three minutes, but you were off in la-la land."

  Jimmy sighed. "What is it, Cind?"

  Cindy's angry demeanor faded slightly. She pointed at Libby, who was lying down while Sheen continued applying pressure to her leg. "Is she going to be alright?" she whispered.

  "You don't have to whisper, she knows she's hurt!" Jimmy said in a normal tone. He turned back to the control panel and monitored the rocket's status. "You're going to be fine, Libby. Barely more than a scratch. When we get back home we'll take you to a hospital. You'll get a bandage and maybe crutches for a few days."

  "Speaking of heading home," Sheen said while standing up and handing the blood soaked rag to Carl, who promptly dropped it in disgust, "should we have rushed out of there like that? Shouldn't we have brought Eustace back to the cops or something?"

  Jimmy spun around in his chair once more. "We don't have time. We're already two hours past curfew, and I don't need some satanic kid hijacking my rocket while I'm trying to make sure he's tied up nice and tight."

  Cindy looked over at him, and lowered her voice to a whisper. "Why didn't you let me do that little suicide run back there? You know I'm better with guns than you. You're better with medicine; you should have stayed with Libby."

  "Not now," he seethed.

  "Yes, I will talk about this right now!" she whispered into his ear. "If you died, who would have brought us back home? Heaven knows you don't want me to fly your rocket!"

  Jimmy dug his fingernails into the rocket's steering wheel and turned his head to stare at her. "You want to know why I didn't let you do that back there?"

  "Yeah, I kind of do!" she spat at him.

  Jimmy stared her in the eyes and gently grabbed the strand of hair that was still hanging in her eyes. "Because I didn't want you to die. Happy?" he angrily said while tucking the hair behind her ear and looking at the heavens in front of them.

  Cindy fingered the strand gently for a moment before frowning and hitting him hard in the arm. "Ow!" he shouted while grabbing his bruised limb. "What the heck was that for? I said I didn't want you to die!"

  Cindy crossed her arms and glared at him. "Well, I don't want you to die either!"

  Jimmy continued staring at her before finally smiling, and then chuckling. "Fair enough," he said.

  Cindy smiled as well and looked ahead at the Earth that was becoming larger and larger. "Glad you agree. So next time I get to do the suicide mission," she said while playfully shoving him.

  Jimmy laid back and yawned. The rocket could handle itself while reentering the Earth's atmosphere. He would just have to land it himself. "Or we could just send Sheen."

  "Hey!" Sheen shouted while popping his head between the two. "Let's just send Carl! He's the fifth wheel!"

  "Ha ha, good one," Carl said while looking away and wiping his eye. Libby weakly put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

  "Alright, enough fooling around. Let's land this son of a biscuit and go get some sleep. We'll decide who we sacrifice on our next mission during lunch tomorrow."

  "And we'll talk about your use of euphemisms as well," Cindy groaned.

  "Oh go fudge yourself," Jimmy playfully muttered.

 
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