Thorn's POV
"She's been through enough, guys. We don't need to fill her head with hope. She's finally got a routine going for herself, she's functioning, and trying to not wake up crying every night," I grumble. Tool shakes his head.
"You don't understand. This frequency can only be accessed by our radio COMs sets at this distance by an SOS line. Unless someone has his radio and somehow also managed to patch it up, power it, and obtain the frequency, this isn't a coincidence," Christmas urges us. Everyone has hope in their eyes except for Tool and I.
"I don't think you realize what you're saying. There's no conceivable way he survived that blast from that proximity-"
"And Brenna said herself that it was possible. It was extremely far-fetched and improbable. But not entirely impossible. He could still be there! He's probably not 100%, but he's-"
"So what do you propose we do? March to Brenna? Tell her that Barney has a 2% chance of being presently alive, and ruin any progress she's made to her happiness?"
"Is that what you want to call how she's been living? She's been surviving," a very pregnant Reagan pipes up. I don't understand why she was here, she was the biggest risk to know this.
"We scout out the island again. Re-trace our steps. And we'll keep it to ourselves… I mean it. This does not leave this room," Christmas orders. I groan into my hand. This was such a bad idea.
"Who goes on this scout out?" I ask.
"Just Caesar, Gunnar, and Toll Road. I want everyone else here to keep up appearances that no one is gone. She can never know if this turns out badly-"
"You mean when it does?" Tool grumps.
"What about the hurricane blowing in? Shouldn't you guys wait?" Smilee asks. We were under hurricane watch from a tropical storm blowing past Mexico right now. Christmas scoffs.
"It'll be a tropical depression before it can even reach here. We'll be fine," he mutters. I shake my head.
"I think you guys are reaching a little too far," I say, silencing everyone. Christmas clenches his jaw.
"I can't ignore this." He turns back to his plans and begins to look for places on a grid where the signal may have come from. Caesar approaches us, the younger team.
"Hey… I want you guys waiting in the hangar with Toll Road's utility monster. Christmas doesn't think this storm is gonna get bad but… well, I've seen how storms love the gulf. We'll need a stable ride to get back if somehow we make it back," he requests. This was getting harder and harder to be able to keep from Brenna.
But even I had to admit, I had hope.
Barney's POV
Patching the radio took time. According to the med hut's wall, I'd been here well over two months. But finding a power source was impossible. I wasn't able to walk entirely or communicate with anyone, so I had to crawl around finding things that would power it. The only problem was that everything around the medics area was powered by batteries. The COMs set radio was powered by a charging station. So I had to re-patch it and re-assemble the interior to allow an SOS signal to be sent out from a battery power source.
But as I was laying down on the small cot, elevating my leg, I hear the familiar sound of a certain plane. I launch up in bed. Is it possible?
I grab the makeshift crutch I had assembled and lean on it as I walk out the hut door. I look up at the sky, and see a bright silver plane. With a skull on the side. I wide smile breaks out on my face.
"Hey!" I know they can't hear me but I wave my arms around frantically, also aware they can't see me. But they know I'm here. Somewhere.
"You're one lucky bastard!" Christmas shouts happily over the planes engine on the tarmac. He grips me in a tight hug. I laugh, returning it. Gunnar, Toll Road, and Caesar do the same. I peak around them.
"Where is everyone?" I ask, hoping to see someone specific. They help me hobble onto the plane.
"Back home. We couldn't risk everyone leaving, Brenna would ask questions and we didn't want to disappoint her if we were wrong," Christmas explains, grinning.
"H-how is she?" I ask. Christmas' jaw tenses, and he hesitates to answer.
"That bad?" I ask.
"She's… in a lot of pain. And she's buried it," he explains. I frown, worried that she'd even mourned for this long. I wasn't worth the time. Christmas slaps my shoulder, and I wince.
"Come on, there's someone at home that misses you," he grins. I'll be home soon, Bren.
We load back up the plane and instead of flying, I rest in the back. I had a long day of apologizing to do ahead of me.
"Barney!" I hear Christmas call from the cockpit. I groan and limp up to the cockpit.
"What?" I demand.
"Well… uh…"
"Christmas is an idiot and thought that the tropical storm blowing across the gulf would dissipate and instead it's a category 1," Caesar says, annoyed.
"It's headed for New Orleans?" I ask. Christmas sighs.
"Yeah. I'm sorry Barney, I don't think we'll make it-"
"Sure we will," I take a seat in my spot. I was getting home today whether I had to fight hurricane winds or not. She needed me.
Brenna's POV
The parlor was grey, bathed in noir lighting. It was quiet. The door behind me to the garage opens.
It's Barney. I run to him, wrapping my arms around him tightly. He laughs, doing the same. My vision turns pure white, as happiness warms my heart.
Then, he's ripped from my arms, and his suddenly lifeless body slumps back on a pile of dead bodies. Thorn, Reagan, Tool, Christmas, Luna, Gunnar... the list was endless.
Now that he was gone, it wouldn't be long until they are, too.
I launch up from the my parlor chair in a panic, sweating profusely. I gasp for air, pulling my messy black hair out of face. Tool gets up from his chair and walks over.
"Hey, it's okay. You're here, you're safe. Christ kid, you never sleep through anything," he pulls me into a hug while I try to catch my breath. I've lost my entire family, and now my subconscious was telling me that eventually I would lose everyone else too. I shake my head.
"They're getting worse," I rasp, putting my head between my knees as I fight a wave of nausea. Tool rubs my back gently.
"Need some water?" he asks. I nod and he gets up. Thunder cracks overhead, and I frown. The wind outside was ferocious too and I could hear the intense rain outside.
"Is that Tropical Storm Nora?" I ask. He sighs.
"Nope. That's Hurricane Nora. She just reached category 1," he looks around at his parlor and I can see while I was asleep he boarded the windows and doors.
"Shit! I need to call Thorn," I jump up, realizing I'm locked in until this was over.
"Good luck. I can't get anyone. Cell service is shit. Try the landline," he gestures to the phone on the wall. I race over to it and dial his number. No answer, which was odd. He always answers, and I'm sure he would be worried about me during this.
"No answer. Where is he? Actually, where is everyone? I haven't seen them in like two days," I mutter mainly to myself.
"Well, not to sound like an ass, but you have been pretty MIA. They're probably preparing for the storm," he explains. I frown.
"And what about Thorn? He'd be questioning where I was during a Cat one hurricane… Tool are they on a job?" I demand.
"No, they're not. He's probably just busy, hun," he excuses but turns away to avoid my eyes. What the fuck? They were on a job, and he didn't tell me? Why did no one tell me?
"I'm not an idiot. Something is up. Where is everyone?" I demand. Tool sighs.
"Nothing is up. You're just paranoid because of the storm," he mutters. Paranoid my ass.
"Fine. I'm going to my room to check on the window," I inform, and he nods looking relieved. But I had ulterior motives.
I get to my room and quickly dress in leggings, my good running shoes, a thermal, and slick my hair back into a ponytail. I go to my window and check the wind. It was intense, but no more than about 60 mph. We were just getting the tail of the hurricane now, the worst would come later. So, like the idiot I was, I climb out the window onto the fire escape and into the frigid rain and ferocious wind. I shield my eyes and begin to run, using alleyways instead of streets to avoid the worst of the wind.
I could barely see in front of me, but I knew this city better than anyone I know. I know how to take the back alleys to downtown where the airplane hangar was. Fighting the wind was monster on my already constantly sore muscles, but if I could run sixteen miles in a day in perfect weather, than I could run nine to get to the hangar in this shit. Rain beat and pummeled my face, the wind jerked my body around. A gust blows me off my feet, and I groan. But the hangar was solid concrete- it was going nowhere. It would provide good shelter for the storm once I got there. And if anyone was there, there would be hell to pay.
I finally see the airplane hanger, and when I squint, I see the silver plane landing. I grit my teeth, annoyed. They had been on a job. Notably, I wasn't aware Christmas could pilot that thing through this weather. It was insanely dangerous. Granted, so was what I was doing.
I sprint the open street to the hangar, and jump the closed gate. The plane had just pulled into the hangar when I whip open the door and run in. I know they can see me now, but I stop and brace my hands on my knees, breathing heavily. My muscles would definitely hate me tomorrow. The rest of the team was here already, waiting in Toll Road's utility truck.
"Brenna?! Did you run here? Are you insane?" Thorn shouts over the plane powering down. I glare at him. He was in no position to talk down to me.
"You went on a job? Without telling me! I understand that I've been kind of MIA but cutting me out entirely? What the fuck, Thorn?" I demand, yelling at him.
"Brenna, it's not what you think," Lee says behind him, trying to calm me.
"Don't start, Lee. A simple phone call would have sufficed. And then you fly back in this storm! Are you a moron?" I roar.
"I had help…" he trails off, looking at the plane. But I don't see who he's referring to.
"Who?" I demand. Thorn hesitates.
"You need to get on the plane, Brenna," he says gently. I'm surprised by the tone of his voice, and the way he takes my hand and leads me over to the ramp. Everyone is off the plane, so I'm questioning why I have to do this. And then it strikes me.
They were looking for him.
I bolt up the ramp, and into the plane, looking down the benches. My eyes don't adjust to the darkness of the plane and I can't see anything.
"Hey kid," a familiar voice says behind me. I stop dead in my tracks, not even turning around. A hand flies to my mouth to keep from sobbing. I shake my head, clutching my shaking hand to my face. My legs and arms burn with exhaustion, they weren't up to the task of holding me up. Especially if this was real.
"No. No, this isn't real. It can't be. I must be sleeping again," I sob, clutching my chest to keep my heart from ripping out. I feel a hand on my shoulder, but refuse to turn around. It would be too real then. And once I saw him, I would wake up. Crying, panicking, and completely destroyed.
"Please turn around," he says gently, and because I can't resist the temptation, I spin slowly. I take a staggering breath when our eyes meet and throw my arms around him. Something clatters to the floor, and he grips me back just as tight. He's here. He's alive.
"Oh my god, how-"
"I'm a lucky son of a bitch," he laughs, his voice choked and relieved. His arms tighten around me and he picks me up. I cried into his shoulder, trying to ask more questions, but I start to shake and shiver. The rain that clung to every inch of me now felt frozen, and Barney releases me. He takes off his jacket and hands it over.
"You're in shock. You need to sit down and breathe," he leads me to a bench on the side of the plane and sits down next to me. But I was already shaking uncontrollably from the grief and pain that my body has been through over the last two months. Every tear shed, every sleepless night, every nightmare I've had, and every pitch black moment ran through my head like a movie on fast forward and repeat.
He pulled me into his arms, trying to soothe me. The hurricane outside really begins to roar loudly but all I can hear is my own heart pumping in my chest, throbbing in my ears. A sudden wave of nausea and searing pain in my head causes my shaking to intensify. My sobs turned into heavy weeping, like Niagara Falls poured down my cheeks.
"Ssh, Brenna… it's okay. I'm alright. Just breathe," he tries to calm me. I shake my head, gripping him tightly so he can't be ripped out of my grasp again.
"You… you were gone," I stammer, trying to explain why I was such a wreck. He shakes his head, pulling back and lifting my chin. He wipes away my tears.
"Did you not read my letter? I'll always be beside you. Dead or alive," he implored, holding my face in his hands. It's too much, and I sink to the floor, putting my head between my knees. If I didn't calm down I was going to throw up or have an asthma attack. Or both.
"Brenna… I'm so, so sorry. I didn't want you to feel like this… I never wanted you to mourn this much," he chokes when he sees what state I've been in since he's been gone. My head snaps up from the floor and looks at him.
"Of course I did! You're the only family I have left, dad. It's just you and I now, and then you were gone and-"
I put my hand to my mouth to silence myself, before I start to get even more nauseated. He crouches down next to me, holding me close to his torso.
"I know. I know. I'm sorry. More than you know, for everything. For fighting so much, that day in training when I hurt you, and for leaving you. Everything. I've put you through so much, and I'm so sorry," he apologizes, sounding remorseful like I was the one who died.
We stay like that for a while, and eventually my shaking ceases. He helps me off the floor, but I'm still in his arms.
"I love you, dad," I croak, wiping my face. He sighs.
"Love you too, Bren. Always have. Always will," he murmurs, rubbing my shoulder.
Glass shattering outside the plane grabs my attention and we both walk out of the plane. Everyone is looking at the window way up above that has been blown out. The hurricane roared outside, the entire hangar vibrated from its force.
"We need to get to shelter. Now," Barney says, leading me down the ramp. Thorn approaches, smiling warmly.
"Good surprise?" he asks. I have about a million things I want to say, but instead I just walk into his arms. He sighs and holds me close.
"Where should we go? Tool is already boarded up and locked down," I explain.
"How did you get out?" Caesar asks.
"Fire escape," I say sheepishly.
"Either way, we don't have enough time to get there. The storm is getting worse by the minute. We need to get to one of the high rises," Barney orders, and I notice he's walking with a crutch.
"We brought your truck and Toll Road's monster. We think it can brave the water," Gunnar says. I frown and look up at the busted window. I shake my head.
"Wind would take it out. It was only sixty miles per hour when I started to run. It got worse as I went. Right now it's probably close to ninety or a hundred. Hard to tell. You could have the best vehicle in the world and still get sucked into storm surge. It was just beginning to rise to my ankles when I was out there," I inform, putting my hands on my hips. I paced back and forth. Think, Brenna. Keep them safe. Where do you go?
The hangar suddenly loses power, and I begin to question it, but I look down below where our electrical box is, by the plane's wheels. While we'd been talking, the storm surge had risen substantially.
"I'm gonna guess it's past our ankles now," Mars grumbles. Then it hits me. I turn to Barney.
"Do you still have the jet skis?" I ask. His eyes light up, and he nods.
"Good thinking, kid. You'll have to go fast enough to keep the wind from knocking you out. But that could work," he says, running off with Christmas to get them started.
We only had four, and with the rest of the team, we had to take trips.
"Which high rise are we headed to?" I yell over the howling wind as he helps Smilee onto the ski. I was driving one of them, Thorn was on my back. I was surprised Barney let me drive them, but I also was very experienced at driving these. Reagan and I used to rent them every summer for fun.
"Central Business district is the closest to here. We can head for one of those buildings!" he tells the three of us driving the skis. We nod and whip around the skis. I gunned the accelerator to fight the wind and pull out in the lead. We start to take trips to bring people from the hangar to the business district.
"Who's left?" I yell to Barney.
"No one! We just have to put your ski back and take mine here," he yells to me. I start to follow him when I hear faint screaming. I slow down and circle back, trying to find where it's coming from. Barney was already much ahead of me, he couldn't afford to slow down and wait for me. I look around among the scene of submerged cars, and notice one that was almost entirely submerged. And a young woman was pounding on the window to get my attention. I speed over to her. She holding her small child, tears streaming down her face.
"Crouch your legs on the seat, and when I tell you to push out, push as hard as you can and take my hand. Hold onto him for dear life," I scream into the window. She nods, getting into position. I grab a piece of debris floating by, and make a counting motion with my hands. On three, I smash the window and she pushes out with her feet before the water goes into the vehicle and traps her. The glass cuts into my hand and I wince as I grab her hand and swing her onto the ski. She secures her child safely between us.
"Are you alright?" I ask.
"I'm okay! Thank you so much!" she cries. I nod, and speed off toward the buildings again for safety. I get to the first one and help her inside, and she assures me she can make it up higher on her own. She thanks me once more and I speed back on my jet ski toward the hangar. But when I get there, the hangar is partially collapsed. I dock my ski and look around wildly for Barney, climbing the stairs to the upper level. The wind nearly takes me out but I grip the railings. His ski wasn't here, and I doubt he would've stayed here to wait on me. He was probably already back at the building. I run back to the lower level that was nearly submerged now, and right as I do, part of the left side of the hangar gives out. It comes crashing down toward me and I jump back onto the stairs. Concrete falls onto the stair railing and it snaps the bolts holding it to the upper level where the plane ramp was. The stairs detach and rip downward as the concrete begins to bow their weight- with me on them. I'm dragged down onto the water as the steels stairs collapse onto my left leg, trapping me in the rising storm surge.
I panic and tug on my leg, but it's firmly trapped between two pieces of steel. The stairs and myself were slowly beginning to flow out of the hangar to join the water that flowed rapidly outside. A levee must be down somewhere along the industrial canal that would've caused this much water so rapidly. The stairs shift, and my leg is pulled down further and my body dragged underwater.
It was nothing but black, I couldn't see a thing. I tried to get my leg out as I hold my breath, fighting like hell to escape this. This can't be how I go out. I give my leg one last jerk and my left leg frees. I swim to the surface gasping for air and that's when a hand firmly grasps my arm and pulls me out of the water. I look up wildly through the wind and rain and see Barney has lowered himself from the plane using a rope.
"Grab the end of the rope and I'll pull you up!" he shouts to me, gesturing the rope that was in the the water following the water current. I dropped back down into the water and grabbed the rope quickly. Barney climbs back into the plane and I feel the rope begin to tug upwards. Eventually, I'm on the plane and coughing as I try to breathe.
"Oh my god," I gasp, winded from fighting the water. He puts a hand on my back, and helps me up.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. What are you doing here?" I ask.
"My jet ski ran out of juice. When I saw you weren't behind me I panicked, I thought something had happened to you and I didn't see it. But I couldn't get back out there to look for you. I nearly got sucked into the storm surge, I had to abandon my ski," he explains.
"Half the hanger just collapsed on mine," I exhale, catching my breath. His face falls, and he seals the door behind us.
"Well then we're stuck out here," he sighs, water sealing the windows and exits of the plane. The plane was equipped to float on water should they ever have to land in the ocean. He closes and locks the cockpit, sealing it air tight like the rest of the plane. Hopefully it can float.
"I'm sorry dad, there was a woman and her child trapped in their car. He was just a baby, I had to help," I explain. He smiles fondly.
"It's okay. I'm glad you helped them. You're a good person, kid," he slaps my shoulder, sitting down on the bench. I sit beside him.
"What now?" I ask. He sighs.
"We wait it out. Hope for the best. Pray the levees don't give out like Katrina," he mutters. I nod, remembering that time. We lost everything, but my mom decided to stay here. Now I know why.
The plane creaks and groans in the wind, and I wrap my arms around my legs in worry. I shiver in the complete darkness that the plane was in, only illuminated by the oil lamp Barney lit.
"Don't worry. She's a tough plane. And she's saved my ass plenty. We'll be fine," he assures me over his cigar. I nod, but remain a little scared. Storms always freaked me out, even when I was little. Thanks to Katrina. He gets up from his spot and sits next to me, wrapping a blanket he's retrieved around my shoulders.
"How're you feeling? Nothing broken or anything?" he asks.
"No, thankfully. I just got trapped and dragged down," I sniff, my nose running from being cold. He snorts.
"Yea well maybe try not having such shit luck," he avows. I glare at him.
"Ditto," I mutter. He chuckles.
"Fair enough, kid."
"Why do you even wear a lucky ring if it doesn't work?" I grumble. He sighs.
"We're still alive, aren't we?" he counters. His words ring in my head, echoing off the plane walls it seemed. I heard them over and over. We're still alive. We're still alive. Barney's voice snaps me out of my internal world.
"What have you been doing since I've been gone?" he asks. I snort.
"Nothing. I started actually tattooing people. But that's about the only development. Reagan's about to pop, she's due next month," I chatter, wrapping the blanket around me more. I hope she was somewhere safe. The plane suddenly lurches an inch or two, scaring me. Barney looks around, putting an arm protectively around me.
"And how's the tattooing going? You like it?" he asks, but he's still looking around the plane to make sure we're safe. He was just trying to distract me to keep me from being scared.
"I like it," is all I manage.
"And what about all this?" he asks, poking my bicep. I laugh.
"I've been trying to keep busy… I'm sure you can guess why," I joke, but a fresh wave of pain slices its way across my chest. I swallow loudly.
"I had no idea you'd be so…"
"Distraught? Mournful? Depressed? Utterly heartbroken? You name it," I mutter. The plane lurches forward again, this time farther. I tense up. We weren't safe in this thing, but we didn't have a choice. Barney looks around.
"You shouldn't have been. I'm not worth the time-"
"Don't start," I warn.
"I mean it, Brenna. You aren't supposed to let something like that destroy you-"
"And if I died? What would you do?" I demand. He sighed.
"That's different. You have a whole life ahead of you, the world to see, and a warm heart. I'm… well, I'm not you," he explains. I shake my head. The plane shifts again.
"You're my dad. I… when I thought I'd lost you, a part of me went with you. Everything felt grey and lifeless. Of course I was devastated," I whisper quietly, closing my eyes as pain resurfaces. The plane jerks and I suck in a breath. Barney's hold on me tightens.
"Well if we make it out of here, I promise I'll never leave you again, kid," he promises. I nod, scared now that the plane wouldn't hold much longer.
We were in for a long night.