by Kacey Ezell
We’re going in the water, Pearl passed to Evelyn and the rest of the formation. We’re still together. Y’all radio ahead and tell them Brit boys to come get us.
You got it, Pearl, Evelyn said, and without her having to say a word, John sent out a ping to fix their location, then set about getting hold of the Air/Sea Rescue Service. To everyone’s great delight, the Air/Sea Rescue Service radio operator answered back immediately, the transmission clear as a bell. John radioed the coordinates and description, and passed along Pearl’s name and psychic status. The Brits radioed back that they’d launch immediately and see if they couldn’t bring their own psychic along to help. That got an actual cheer from Logan, Rico, and Sean, all of whom had friends on One For The Money and Tinsel Time.
And that surge of joy got Evelyn through the last of the clouds until, without warning, they broke through into rare sunlight over the English coast. The last few minutes of the flight passed in a daze of John’s radio calls, Carl’s and Bob’s checklists and responses, the rumbling of Pretty Cass as her landing gear came down, and the nerve-wracking jolt as her wheels touched down, and she taxied clear of the active runway.
Evelyn looked up at John as he turned back to her, his face creased with an exhausted, yet overjoyed, grin. “We made it, Evie,” he said out loud. “You got us home!”
She made her lips curve in a smile, but then exhaustion reared up from the edges of her mind and spread its dark cloak of oblivion over everything.
* * * * *
Chapter Five
Evelyn woke in a room she hadn’t seen before, but she immediately recognized the tell-tale arc of the Quonset hut ceiling. A woman in nurse’s white held onto her wrist, counting pulse beats while looking at her wristwatch.
“Excellent,” the nurse said, her crisp British accent sounding satisfied. She placed Evelyn’s hand back down on the bed and turned away. “She’s awake. You may come in now, only two at a time, mind you.”
“Evie!” It was Mary’s voice. Evelyn turned her head just in time to see the blonde launch herself toward Evelyn’s hospital bed. Mary wrapped her arms hard around Evelyn’s shoulders and hung on as if she had no plans to let go. The nurse made a disapproving sniff, and Mary rolled her eyes, but she did ease up and step back from the bed. Evelyn gave her a smile and slowly pushed herself up to a sitting position.
“Mary,” Evelyn said softly. “It’s good to see you.”
“Oh, Evie!” Mary said again, giving a mighty sniff as her eyes welled up. “It’s good to see you, too! I was so worried. I knew you’d overwork yourself as the lead bird, you stupid, brave, silly, ridiculous girl!”
“You gave us quite a scare, Technician,” Captain Peters’ calm voice cut through Mary’s diatribe just as smoothly as it had cut through the chaos of aerial combat. Evelyn jerked her eyes to the face of her aircraft commander and struggled to sit a little straighter.
“Sir!” she said, finding herself feeling flustered and unprepared. Inside her mind, the net shoved at her like a tiger throwing itself against the bars of its cage. Her awareness yearned toward him, the instinct to connect made even stronger by the intense experiences they’d come through together.
Captain Peters took another step forward, but he moved as if he didn’t realize it. Evelyn cut her eyes to Mary in a mute appeal for help, and the blond psychic quickly stepped in front of the captain. He seemed to recall himself and deliberately stepped back and put his hands behind his back. His eyes flicked up to Evelyn’s and then darted away as if he were embarrassed. Mary gave him an understanding smile and patted his hand.
“Captain, you can see she’s fine. Maybe you want to step out and tell your crew she’s awake? Let us have a bit of girl time?” Mary said in her “sweet little girl” voice. Captain Peters swallowed hard and nodded, then turned and walked out of the room. Evelyn watched him go and tried to keep the net from reaching out and dragging him in by force.
When the door closed behind him, Mary let out a sigh and turned back to Evelyn.
“You’re such a lucky girl,” Mary said. “My pilot’s balding and has a paunch. He’s got the hands, though,” she added, loyalty creeping into her tone.
“What happened to Bobby?” Evelyn asked, unable to wait any longer. Mary’s dreamy expression disappeared, and she refocused on Evelyn’s face with a piercing look in her eyes.
“Bobby? That would be your gunner, Private First Class Robert Fritsche? The one who took shrapnel to both legs on the egress? The one who should have died, except that you held him back and risked your own life in the process? That Bobby? He’s fine. Recuperating in London. Evelyn. What in the sam hell were you thinking?!”
“He was going to die,” she said, weakly. “I just helped slow the bleeding, kept him with us until the bandages and sulfa powder could do their jobs.”
“OOH!” Mary said, stamping her delicate little foot and fisting her hands at her sides. “I swear, Evelyn Adamsen! I’ve never met anyone who makes me as mad as you do! If he was going to die, you should have let him die! It’s a war! People die all the time. It’s tragic, and sad, and we all think of them and cry, but you could have followed him down! And, you would have taken the rest of your crew with you, like as not. Didn’t think of that, now, did you?”
She hadn’t, but she wasn’t about to tell Mary that. Mary crossed her arms over her chest and lifted an eyebrow at Evelyn.
“All right,” Evelyn said. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it.”
“No,” Mary said, “you shouldn’t have.” Then she sighed and uncrossed her arms, reaching out to grasp Evelyn’s fingers with her own. “But I can’t say I’m surprised you did. Just...oh hell. I’m not even going to ask you to promise not to try something like that ever again, because we both know you will.”
“Mary, I—”
Mary shook her head. “No,” she said, her lips smiling but her lovely eyes sad. “Leave it at that for now. How are you feeling?”
“Well enough. A bit tired, but like I’ve been lying around for too long,” Evelyn said as she shifted in the bed again. “I’d like to get up, walk around.” See my crew, she didn’t add, but by the way Mary looked at her, the blonde had heard her anyway.
“You may, if you like,” the nurse said, stepping forward. “I need this bed, in truth. If you’re feeling up to it, you’re free to go. Just be sure and drink plenty of water and get lots of rest for the next few days.”
“I will, miss, thank you,” Evelyn said, gingerly swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Mary helped her dress in her khaki uniform, and though she felt weak as a child, she felt immeasurably better afterward.
“Don’t overdo it, mind,” the nurse admonished as the two psychics headed toward the door. Mary answered with a breezy wave and ushered Evelyn out into the cold, misty damp of the English afternoon.
“How long was I out?” Evelyn asked after a moment’s silent walking.
“A day and a half,” Mary answered, her vibrant voice quiet. “You missed interrogation. Colonel Rizer was thrilled with the mission results. Target destroyed, he said. He was less thrilled to lose three psychics, but everyone agrees that your idea to tie the formation in closer was a good one. Your pilot, the dashing Captain Phillips, made sure that everyone knew that was one hundred percent your idea.”
Evelyn felt her face heating up. She’d never been good with praise. Mary noticed and gave her a hint of her usual wicked smile.
“Of course, he was less pleased about that stunt you pulled with PFC Fritsche. Captain Peters defended you again, pointing out that Fritsche would have died without your intervention. I’ll never forget Rizer’s face as he told the captain that he only had twenty—seventeen now—psychics. It’s like he was haunted by his own ruthlessness.” Mary shook her head sadly, took a breath, and went on.
“We lost Alice, Leona Wright, and Myrna Danners,” she said. “Pearl’s bird went down with another one in the Channel, but she and both crews got picked up within a few ho
urs. Turns out the Brits have a psychic working with the Air/Sea Rescue Service.”
“That’s right,” Evelyn murmured, as the memories of her harrowing flight home came back to her. “They mentioned something like that over the radio. It’s a good idea.”
“It’s something we should have been doing a long time ago,” Mary said firmly. “The number of small craft lost out of San Diego harbor every year...well...anyway.” She shrugged and gestured for Evelyn to precede her through a metal door. Evelyn looked up, faintly surprised to see the entrance to the chow hall. She’d been so preoccupied with Mary’s information that she hadn’t really paid attention to where they were walking.
“Come on,” Mary said. “You know you need to eat. Food will help you feel better faster than anything else. Except maybe a certain tall, dark, and handsome captain...”
“Mary!” Evelyn gasped, her face flaming up again. “He’s an officer!”
Mary laughed and just gave Evelyn a little push. Evelyn shot back a dark look and pushed through the metal doors.
* * *
“Evie! Hey, fellas, Evie’s here!”
It was Sean’s voice. The red-headed, young flight engineer called out in jubilant tones. Immediately, Evelyn felt the press of male bodies as her crew seemed to envelop her, and Mary right along with her. Inside her mind, the net snapped out and caught each of the men before Evelyn could stop it.
What? Sean thought. Oh man. Evie! We missed you!
Mortified, Evelyn pulled back, both physically and mentally. The net resisted, clinging stubbornly to the minds of Sean, Les, Logan, Rico, and John. Only Bobby was missing, and the net didn’t like that one bit. Evelyn took a deep breath and severed the connection with an audible gasp, feeling the reverb rock through her to her bones, causing Mary to reach out with a steadying grip.
“Evie?” Mary asked. “Are you all right?”
“The net,” Evelyn whispered. “It manifested, uncommanded. I’ve never had that happen before.”
Mary’s lovely eyes grew wide with concern. Sean stepped up beside her, reaching out to take Evelyn’s free hand with his own.
“Hey, Evie,” he said softly. “You okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No,” Evelyn replied, slowly and reluctantly pulling her fingers from his grasp. “I’m the one who is sorry. I’ve never had a net connection get away from me like that. It’s unpardonable to link like that without your permission. I am so...” To her further mortification, tears began to well in her eyes.
“Sean, hey man, why’d you have to go and make her cry?” Logan asked, aggrieved. He shouldered the flight engineer aside and reached out for Evie’s hand himself. Evelyn sniffled mightily, all too aware of how unladylike she looked and sounded, and fought to get her emotions under control. She also placed her other hand on Mary’s, mostly so none of the men could touch it. She wasn’t entirely certain that the net wouldn’t manifest uncommanded again. Touching any of them would make that more likely.
“Sean didn’t make me cry,” Evelyn said, squaring her shoulders and looking up. “I just...I am sorry. I’m weak still, and I wasn’t able to control the bond well enough...that’s why the net manifested. I am so very sorry to all of you.”
“Hey, chica,” Rico said, tilting his head to the side and giving her a half smile. “Did we complain? I don’t know about the rest of these guys, but I missed you in here while you were out,” he said, tapping the side of his temple.
“That’s the bond,” Mary said, her voice gentle. “It’s a side effect of being connected in a psychic net for so long, and under such trying circumstances.”
“But it doesn’t mean we don’t like it,” Les said, and Logan and Sean nodded vigorous agreement.
“It doesn’t matter if you like it,” Evelyn said. “It’s wrong for me to link you without your permission!”
“Then I give you permission,” Sean said quickly. “We all do. Anytime you want, Evie. Anytime at all.” Les, Logan, and Rico nodded agreement, John murmured his assent, and Evelyn couldn’t help but smile at their earnestness.
“Thanks,” she said. “But I’ve got it under control for the moment. I need to eat, though,” she added, feeling her empty stomach churn at the scent of fried potatoes.
“We’ve got a table right over here,” Sean said, taking charge again, as he was wont to do. He gestured with barely contained eagerness and then turned to Mary as if remembering his manners. “You’d be welcome, too, ma’am,” he said formally.
Mary gave him her second-best smile. “Thank you,” she said graciously. “But I promised my crew I’d meet them for chow. I just wanted to make sure Evie was settled.”
“We’ve got her, ma’am,” Sean said, reaching out to take Evie’s hand again, and then remembering and letting his own hand drop.
Mary looked at Evelyn and reached out with a tendril of thought. Will you be all right? she asked.
I’ve got it under control, Evelyn assured her, adding another layer of will to the cage she’d slammed into place to contain the straining bond. They’re my crew. I’ll be fine. I’ll see you later.
All right, Mary said and then slid her eyes to Sean’s and gave her hair a little toss. “And it’s Technician, Sergeant, not ‘ma’am.’ I work for a living,” she said saucily, before turning her back and sashaying back to her own crew not far away.
Sean gaped. “Ah...s...sorry?” he stammered and then immediately received the rough ribbing and teasing of his crewmates. Evelyn looked on with a tiny, patient smile. Mary had that effect on men when she chose to do so. It never failed to entertain.
“Ah, sorry, Evie,” Sean said, his face nearly as red as his hair. Les wouldn’t stop laughing, and Sean gave him a shove. The waist gunner’s guffaws subsided to an ongoing snicker, and Rico, Logan, and John all had wide grins. “Go get her something to eat, you pack of laughing hyenas,” Sean said, and waved Evelyn toward a seat.
Evelyn took a look around the chow hall as she headed for her seat. The place was relatively full, with groups of men clustered around most of the trestle tables. Here and there, a female face smiled with them, as most of the psychics were eating with their crews. Not too far from the doorway, Pearl Silvers laughed at something one of her pilots said. Evelyn caught the dark-skinned woman’s eyes and gave her a nod. Pearl flashed her a smile and a thumbs-up.
Though seeing Pearl and the other girls happy and well filled Evelyn with a warm joy, she couldn’t help but wonder how Captain Ledoux would react to that development. During their training, the good captain had been very clear about her expectations. Interacting with the men in an inappropriate way would not be tolerated—she’d emphasized that point from the beginning. But from the looks of it, just about every one of the remaining girls was here, talking and eating surrounded by a cluster of airmen. The dull roar of hundreds of conversations under-laid the clatter of food trays and the bustle of the service line. Every once in a while, Evelyn could pick up a female laugh trilling over the rest of the noise. The scent of fried meat and old grease hung heavy in the air.
“Evie?” Rico asked, the faint lilt of his Puerto Rican accent lifting the end of her name. Evelyn blinked, then smiled at him and accepted his hand as he helped her take her seat on the trestle bench. “Are you all right, chica?”
“I’m fine, thank you,” she said. “Just woolgathering.” Behind Rico, John held a tray of standard soldiers’ food that he put down in front of her. Logan followed with a glass of milk and one of juice. Evelyn smiled at them both and picked up the orange juice. It was watered down, reconstituted, and had too much sugar added. It tasted wonderful.
“Good,” Sean said, sliding into the seat opposite her. “We could use some more wool. Damn English rain, begging your pardon, Evie.”
“Ain’t the rain, Sarge,” Les said around a mouthful of overcooked carrots. “It’s the mist. It gets down inside your collar and everywhere.” He shook his head mournfully and shoveled another huge fork load into his mouth.
>
Evelyn chuckled softly. “The snow is like that at home,” she said, picking up her own fork and toying with the pile of instant mashed potatoes. “The wind drives it sideways, and it creeps into every seam.”
“Where is home?” John asked. The blond-haired radio operator had clearly become a fully integrated part of the crew. He smiled his handsome smile at Evelyn, and she spared a passing thought for the sweetheart he’d no doubt left behind.
“Rapid City, South Dakota,” Evelyn said, shrugging her shoulders up a bit. “Or just outside, really. In the Black Hills.”
“You get lots of snow there?” John went on, clearly trying to draw her out. Evelyn gave him a tiny smile and nodded.
“Sometimes,” she said, feeling unaccountably shy. It really didn’t make much sense, considering that these men now knew her better than any other, thanks to the net bond that continually pushed at her.
“How did you go from Rapid City, South Dakota, to Merry Olde England?” John asked. Evelyn blinked and looked up at him, then shrugged. Their mission as psychics was classified, but these men certainly already knew. No one had said she couldn’t talk about that part of it.