by Kirk Allmond
Tookes was just approaching them when Max replied, “Twenty minutes, Daddy. He said they had a good tailwind. What’s a tailwind, Daddy?”
“That’s when the wind is behind you. It pushes the plane along, so they can fly faster.”
“I knew that.” Max seemed to know everything these days, even if he had never previously heard it before. The growing mind of a young child was a fascinating thing. Victor smiled as Max added, “I love you, Daddy.”
Victor grabbed a can of white paint and a roller, dumped a large puddle out onto the runway, and began to paint. He was just finishing the last part when they heard the plane’s huge engines. Vic stood back to check out his handiwork. He had painted a giant “Welcome to America” sign that took up the whole runway.
Both engines on the left side of the plane were smoking badly, but the plane flew overhead and wobbled the wings, the international pilot symbol for “I see you.” The huge plane circled, lining up with the runway as John, Marshall, and Victor cleared the paint supplies and took shelter off to the side.
“We made it, John,” said Victor. He felt both overjoyed that John’s family was going to land safe and sound and almost overwhelmingly sad. So much had happened in the last five days. They had fought side by side and fought with each other. As a team, they had destroyed what felt like half of Atlanta and came out victorious at another battle at Fort Hood. They had lived through several nights without sleep and the temporary loss of their children. Together, they had experienced great gains and great loss. Victor reflected on the brief reunion Max got to have with his grandfather and that their time together was so short lived. He then thought of Leo—how terrible their last moments together were and that she had come back to help Max when he needed her, more needless death in this new cruel world. The train was lost but hopefully still parked where they’d left it. Its armor was all but destroyed, and its guns were out of ammunition, but it had served its purpose. It seemed like one family had been nearly destroyed so that another could be reunited. Tookes figured that there was some deep, poetic realization that he should be having, but the pain was much too near to process. He still needed to get them all back to Virginia. There would be time to dwell later. For now, he had a job to do.
Vic looked over to John and saw that his best friend was crying. There were tears openly streaming down his face. He wiped his eyes on the back of his hand and said, “Thanks, mate.” His accent was thicker than it had been in months, even in just two words.
Smoke rolled from the tires as they touched down, rolling through the wet paint and leaving paint spots all the way up the runway. The pilot stopped the plane, turned it around, and taxied down the runway towards John. The plane was bigger than Victor expected with a bold “U.S. Air Force” logo painted on the tops of the wings. “Well shit, I wonder where they found a C17 in Australia,” said Marshall.
“There’s a top secret United States base in Western Australia. Top secret to everyone except the Aussies. Last I talked to Sean, they were leaving from that base,” John replied. The three men stood side by side before they all began walking towards the plane.
The side door of the plane opened, folding a set of stairs out. A tall biker-looking guy and a small black girl came walking out first and stood at either side of the stairs. John broke into a run and caught his children as they jumped down the stairs, enveloping them in a hug. The tears in his eyes fell again when his wife appeared in the doorway of the plane.
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