Last Flight Out

Glad you could join us for the next risky episode of Elliot’s Adventures. If you’re new here, you can catch up by returning to the beginning, and reading really fast…

Randall’s first flight made such an impression, he decided his flight home would be his last flight ever. He’d survived all the jostling only by tying his ankles to the cargo net and hanging on for dear life. Teddy might be enchanted because Trevor can ‘fly’, he thought, but that’s just leaping with style. When I tell him about this, he’s going to know what flying is really like.

Maybe his relief to be on the ground enhanced his senses to make Fen seem soul-sustainingly green and rich with everything that made life worth living. Or maybe it really was. He understood why the General wanted it, but the world would be a less hopeful place if the winds of war contaminated Fen’s light zephyrs with the stench of death.

He felt sure the soldiers he issued webbing to weren’t telling him the worst of what they saw. They described the situation as “desperate but hopeful”, and swore the enemy hadn’t pushed any further into Fen than the Alliance would be able to push back as soon as the rest of the army finally arrived.

Back home, he’d had no idea how the webbing would serve the effort, but tonight he learned each web went to a team of two Aero Squadron Flyers and a Knight from Bog who could ‘fly’ like Trevor. Further details were sketchy.

There were rumors, too. Some said the General had flaming wings and shot fire from his eyes — which Randall knew wasn’t completely accurate from his own encounter with the General just before he and Teddy escaped from The Arids. Others said a secret underground spy ring had infiltrated General Hai’s War Council. But the story that caught his attention was that the Assassin had been seen in central Fen, not far from where he now stood.

So the surrounding darkness seemed to seep in from all sides as he waited alone with only one pack left to hand out and the torches sputtering low. It might even be an extra flat of webbing nobody would come to pick up, but he had to stay in the Field so he wouldn’t miss his ride back home.

A snapping twig whipped him around to search for movement in the greenery. He saw only shadows moving in the breeze. “Get a grip,” he said out loud. “I’ll be home with Teddy soon enough.”

The shape emerging from the shadows spoke. “Unless you’re not,” it drawled. “Randall, isn’t it? Fancy meeting you here. I guess it was meant to be.”

To be continued. . .

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