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.Instead, I closed my eyes again and felt the aircraft gather speed.My stomach churned and I heard cheers from the rest of the passengers, which told me we were back in that strange place, above the surface of the Earth.Chapter Forty-TwoI slipped in and out of sleep for hours.The continuous drone of the engines helped put me back into an unconscious state whenever I awoke.Smith sipped from a can of beer on one occasion when I came to.I desperately wanted a glug but was too tired to ask him for some.Fragments of memories, dreams and images of people from my past all flashed through my mind while I slept.None of it made sense and there was no comprehensible sequence of events during the dreams.People spoke with different voices and took on different traits and personalities.My brain was a jumbled mess of fatigue and psychological trauma.I stirred and fully awoke when the pitch of the aircraft engines changed to a whine.I rubbed my eyes and blinked rapidly, trying to alleviate the grogginess.Smith and Batfish dozed in their seats on either side of me.I looked around to the row of seats behind me.Spot lay curled up, sleeping on Mignon’s lap.Landri’s head rested on Mignon’s shoulder and both girls looked peaceful in sleep.Chief Cole also slept, snoring loudly in the seat beside Landri.The C-17 felt as though it was descending and not for the first time, I wished the damn plane had some windows so I might have some idea of what the hell was going on out there in the atmosphere.Were we above land or sea? Enclosed in this fucking flying tube, I had no clue.I suddenly started to feel jittery and claustrophobic.Beads of sweat formed across my forehead and I felt hot and anxious.My stomach was in knots and I thought I was going to throw up.I unclipped my seat belt and tore off the cold weather jacket, pants and tactical gloves.I tasted the coffee I’d drunk earlier combined with stomach bile forcing its way from my guts.I stood and stretched, rolling my aching neck then walked on shaky legs around the side of the cargo behind the seats.Everybody in the C-17 interior remained asleep, nuzzled on their seats, running along the aircraft sides.I rubbed my face and wiped away the sweat with my sleeve.What was wrong with me? What if I was sick? Had I somehow become contaminated with infected zombie blood?All kinds of scenarios raced through my mind.A ghastly, throaty voice rasped inside my head – “Illness, terminal illness, cancer, heart disease, Ebola, typhoid, malaria, gonorrhea, diarrhea, fucking bubonic plague.Who’s going to treat you if you catch any of those?” The fucker kept repeating the words over and over.“Shut the fuck up!” I screeched, holding my hands over my ears in an attempt to block out the horrible singing voice.I shut my eyes, wishing all of the bad thoughts away.When I opened my eyes, I noticed several people staring at me with an expression of shock and concern on their faces, as though I was some kind of basket case.I’d awoken them with my yelling at the voice inside my head.Unfortunately, one of the worried onlookers happened to be Estela Cordoba.Her dark eyes gazed blankly at me and her mouth hung open.“You’ve blown it there, pal,” the voice inside my head crowed.Reality hit me like a slap in the face.Maybe I was mentally ill or perhaps I was suffering some sort of breakdown.I stood still, gazing back at the shocked faces.Cordoba stood up and slowly walked towards me.She stared deep into my eyes.The expression of anxiety on her face had been replaced by a look of compassion.“You’re okay, Brett,” she whispered.“You just had a bad dream, is all.”Was she right? I wasn’t so sure.She escorted me back to my seat and made sure I sat back down.Smith, Batfish and the others in my seating area still slept throughout my bizarre behavior.I hoped they hadn’t heard my ranting.“Get some rest.It has been a long day.” Cordoba clipped my seat belt around my waist.“How long have we been in the air?” I asked.Cordoba shook her head.“I’m not sure but we should be landing real soon.”I nodded and felt my eyes closing again.I hoped when I opened them again we’d be on the ground in Scotland.Chapter Forty-ThreeThe next time I woke up, I definitely knew something was terribly wrong.It wasn’t me this time.Something was happening to the aircraft.We were jolted in our seats as though we were sitting inside a roller coaster car.Batfish screamed alongside me and Smith was thrown into my side with the force of the severe juddering motion.Mignon and Landri wailed behind us and I heard screams and confused shouts from the rest of the guys inside the C-17 interior.“What the fuck is going on?” I screeched.“Stay in your goddamn seats,” Chief Cole yelled.A thunderous rumbling noise reverberated around the cargo hold, pallets, crates and the vehicles shook forcefully in the restraining straps.The interior lights flickered on and off erratically and a stench of hot electrical components wafted in the air.“We’re going to fucking crash,” I screamed.Hysteria and terror pulsed through my body.I’d never felt as sick and frightened in my whole life.I gripped the arms of my seat; my fingers were like claws digging into the vinyl material.Smith’s face was ashen white and Batfish’s was a mask of terror.Even Chief Cole grunted in gasps of panic as we were all thrown around in our seats.My head was jerked from side to side and I thought I was going to pass out.The air seemed to be sucked from the interior.The grating noise became overwhelming but the awful juddering began to cease.I gasped for air and whimpered in sheer terror.The tilting and shuddering motion gradually came to an end and the petrifying scraping sound also ceased.The interior was filled with confused and frightened voices, asking each other if they were all right and wondering what had just happened.The whole cargo hold tilted at a forty-five degree angle and people stumbled out of their seats, too shocked to counterbalance themselves on the sloping floor.I unbuckled my seat belt and tried to stand up.I immediately fell onto Smith’s lap.“Get off me, Wilde Man,” he grunted [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.Instead, I closed my eyes again and felt the aircraft gather speed.My stomach churned and I heard cheers from the rest of the passengers, which told me we were back in that strange place, above the surface of the Earth.Chapter Forty-TwoI slipped in and out of sleep for hours.The continuous drone of the engines helped put me back into an unconscious state whenever I awoke.Smith sipped from a can of beer on one occasion when I came to.I desperately wanted a glug but was too tired to ask him for some.Fragments of memories, dreams and images of people from my past all flashed through my mind while I slept.None of it made sense and there was no comprehensible sequence of events during the dreams.People spoke with different voices and took on different traits and personalities.My brain was a jumbled mess of fatigue and psychological trauma.I stirred and fully awoke when the pitch of the aircraft engines changed to a whine.I rubbed my eyes and blinked rapidly, trying to alleviate the grogginess.Smith and Batfish dozed in their seats on either side of me.I looked around to the row of seats behind me.Spot lay curled up, sleeping on Mignon’s lap.Landri’s head rested on Mignon’s shoulder and both girls looked peaceful in sleep.Chief Cole also slept, snoring loudly in the seat beside Landri.The C-17 felt as though it was descending and not for the first time, I wished the damn plane had some windows so I might have some idea of what the hell was going on out there in the atmosphere.Were we above land or sea? Enclosed in this fucking flying tube, I had no clue.I suddenly started to feel jittery and claustrophobic.Beads of sweat formed across my forehead and I felt hot and anxious.My stomach was in knots and I thought I was going to throw up.I unclipped my seat belt and tore off the cold weather jacket, pants and tactical gloves.I tasted the coffee I’d drunk earlier combined with stomach bile forcing its way from my guts.I stood and stretched, rolling my aching neck then walked on shaky legs around the side of the cargo behind the seats.Everybody in the C-17 interior remained asleep, nuzzled on their seats, running along the aircraft sides.I rubbed my face and wiped away the sweat with my sleeve.What was wrong with me? What if I was sick? Had I somehow become contaminated with infected zombie blood?All kinds of scenarios raced through my mind.A ghastly, throaty voice rasped inside my head – “Illness, terminal illness, cancer, heart disease, Ebola, typhoid, malaria, gonorrhea, diarrhea, fucking bubonic plague.Who’s going to treat you if you catch any of those?” The fucker kept repeating the words over and over.“Shut the fuck up!” I screeched, holding my hands over my ears in an attempt to block out the horrible singing voice.I shut my eyes, wishing all of the bad thoughts away.When I opened my eyes, I noticed several people staring at me with an expression of shock and concern on their faces, as though I was some kind of basket case.I’d awoken them with my yelling at the voice inside my head.Unfortunately, one of the worried onlookers happened to be Estela Cordoba.Her dark eyes gazed blankly at me and her mouth hung open.“You’ve blown it there, pal,” the voice inside my head crowed.Reality hit me like a slap in the face.Maybe I was mentally ill or perhaps I was suffering some sort of breakdown.I stood still, gazing back at the shocked faces.Cordoba stood up and slowly walked towards me.She stared deep into my eyes.The expression of anxiety on her face had been replaced by a look of compassion.“You’re okay, Brett,” she whispered.“You just had a bad dream, is all.”Was she right? I wasn’t so sure.She escorted me back to my seat and made sure I sat back down.Smith, Batfish and the others in my seating area still slept throughout my bizarre behavior.I hoped they hadn’t heard my ranting.“Get some rest.It has been a long day.” Cordoba clipped my seat belt around my waist.“How long have we been in the air?” I asked.Cordoba shook her head.“I’m not sure but we should be landing real soon.”I nodded and felt my eyes closing again.I hoped when I opened them again we’d be on the ground in Scotland.Chapter Forty-ThreeThe next time I woke up, I definitely knew something was terribly wrong.It wasn’t me this time.Something was happening to the aircraft.We were jolted in our seats as though we were sitting inside a roller coaster car.Batfish screamed alongside me and Smith was thrown into my side with the force of the severe juddering motion.Mignon and Landri wailed behind us and I heard screams and confused shouts from the rest of the guys inside the C-17 interior.“What the fuck is going on?” I screeched.“Stay in your goddamn seats,” Chief Cole yelled.A thunderous rumbling noise reverberated around the cargo hold, pallets, crates and the vehicles shook forcefully in the restraining straps.The interior lights flickered on and off erratically and a stench of hot electrical components wafted in the air.“We’re going to fucking crash,” I screamed.Hysteria and terror pulsed through my body.I’d never felt as sick and frightened in my whole life.I gripped the arms of my seat; my fingers were like claws digging into the vinyl material.Smith’s face was ashen white and Batfish’s was a mask of terror.Even Chief Cole grunted in gasps of panic as we were all thrown around in our seats.My head was jerked from side to side and I thought I was going to pass out.The air seemed to be sucked from the interior.The grating noise became overwhelming but the awful juddering began to cease.I gasped for air and whimpered in sheer terror.The tilting and shuddering motion gradually came to an end and the petrifying scraping sound also ceased.The interior was filled with confused and frightened voices, asking each other if they were all right and wondering what had just happened.The whole cargo hold tilted at a forty-five degree angle and people stumbled out of their seats, too shocked to counterbalance themselves on the sloping floor.I unbuckled my seat belt and tried to stand up.I immediately fell onto Smith’s lap.“Get off me, Wilde Man,” he grunted [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]