The Demon Drivers BOOK IV - Ch. 13 Promises Kept
The Demon Drivers BOOK IV
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Parker’s hand hovered over the cockpit access button.
The hair stood up on the back of his neck. Suddenly he knew he was being watched. Very, very closely. And not only by General Ramsey.
In the Battle-suit’s canopy, Parker saw an instantaneous flash. He looked deeper into the black mirror. He focused his eyes on the reflection of the hangar. Behind him, he clearly saw the reflection of the long, lean muzzle of a sniper’s rifle. The flash had been a momentary reflection of the optical lens on the front of the scope mounted atop the weapon. A bead of red laser light danced on the black mirror of the Battle-suit’s canopy, for an instant, and was gone. Parker felt as though a small insect were crawling on his skin, just behind his left ear. He could almost feel its warmth. A tiny bead of laser light crawling like a bug. It was an odd sensation, knowing his life would end as a result of a simple squeeze of a trigger.
He hesitated, his hand over the canopy access button.
What was he waiting for?
He had no doubt he could fly the Battle-suit. He had no doubt he could open the hangar door. And he knew once he was outside Candyland, no one could touch him. Not even General Ramsey.
So why was he hesitating instead of soaring through the starry desert sky?
It wasn’t fear of being captured. He’d already been kidnapped. There wasn’t much could top that.
It wasn’t fear of being discovered. He now knew General Ramsey had been watching him through the camera in the eye of the giant eagle. Who did General Ramsey think he was deceiving by putting a camera in the eye of a giant eagle, anyway?
But it was more than just the camera.
It was more, even, than the sniper waiting for the order to fire a bullet through his skull.
Parker knew why he wasn’t climbing into the Battle-suit.
It was because of his dad, because of the last words his dad had given him, scrawled on the note Parker now kept in an old shoebox, along with photographs of his mother: Do what they ask of you.
This was a command which, for better or worse, he simply could not disobey.
He would therefore continue doing his best always to honor his dad’s instructions, whether it meant obeying Mrs. Black or obeying General Ramsey. And jumping into a Battle-suit and fleeing Candyland in the middle of the night could not be seen as a noble reflection of his dad’s wishes, no matter how much temptation he felt to twist his mind into the dark shapes required to believe otherwise.
But that wasn’t all.
Something else itched at Parker, bothered him.
Assuming the sniper didn’t fire, that General Ramsey didn’t give the order, what was Parker going to do? Climb inside the cockpit? Run the checklists he already knew by heart and fire up the Battle-suit?
Then what?
Fly up to the metal doors and literally pry them open with his Top Secret flying robot hands?
No.
He wasn’t going to do any of those things.
He wasn’t going to tear through the hangar doors to go find his dad.
He wasn’t going to go ripping through the night at Mach Whatever, trying to hone-in on his dad’s worried and weary thoughts.
Instead, he was going to replace the cover on his Battle-suit, hope the sniper didn’t blow his head clean off, and then go back to his room, get into his jammies, and go to bed.
And why?
From the middle of his mind . . .
. . . and from nowhere at all . . .
. . . Parker heard it loud and clear:
Because . . . you . . . made . . . a promise.
And Parker felt the truth of it, knew it was so.
He’d made a promise to his friends, a promise to Sunny, to Bubba, to Igby, even to Colby, who sometimes drove everyone nuts.
Some people liked to say that promises were made to be broken.
Parker had always hated that expression.
If a promise is made, it should be kept.
The truth of this was unmistakable, unavoidable.
And he’d already promised that they would stay together. No matter what.
Parker would therefore stay with his friends.
No matter what happened, he would stay with his friends.
He would do anything and everything in his power to serve them with dignity and honor, the same dignity he’d seen in the eyes of the pilots of The Suicide Squad.
For friendship, true, unyielding friendship, was a sacred thing.
Parker would therefore do whatever it took to be the best Flight Leader he could be. He would do whatever it took to serve his friends faithfully. And he would do anything he had to do to keep them safe. They wouldn’t die while following his orders. And he wouldn’t wind up like Lonnie’s brother, so overcome with guilt that he saw no other option than to take his own life.
Visions of Sunny and Bubba and Igby and Colby arose in his mind, memories from lunch that day when they’d eaten together, laughed together. They were his family now. And there was nothing more important than family. Tears came to Parker’s eyes, and although he did not let himself cry, he was not ashamed, for they were tears of joy shed for the love of his friends.
Parker descended the Battle-suit platform, bathed in the overhead glow. The sound of his boots falling on the metal steps echoed through the hangar.
A tear rolled down each side of his face. He did not wipe them away.
Parker had made promises. This he knew.
He’d be damned if they weren’t promises kept.
Next chapter coming Saturday!