The Demon Drivers BOOK IV - Ch. 7: Under the Heavenly Light
The Demon Drivers BOOK IV
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Parker tossed and turned in bed. He looked again at the bedside clock he’d found in his room earlier, already set with the correct time, a gift from General Ramsey bearing a note which read: A stitch in time saves nine. Whatever that meant. Bubba would almost surely know; Parker would ask him in the morning.
The red numbers on the clock glowed in the darkness: 12:35 a.m. Parker flipped over onto his stomach, forcing himself to relax, willing himself to fall asleep. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. But, again, the day’s events invaded his thoughts:
The eye drops and the stress test.
Being sizzled by the KID suit.
Strapping in to a real Go-Boy Battle-suit.
Using the sim to humiliate himself in front of The Suicide Squad.
Being appointed Flight Leader by General Ramsey without prior consent or discussion.
The conversation with Colby: The Colby Max!
Between leaving the Mess Hall and lying in bed, Parker had somehow come to feel angry and guilty at the same time.
Yet again, his mind came back to one thing: the Battle-suit.
He could hardly believe it.
The suit was upstairs right now in the Main Hangar, unless General Ramsey had had them moved.
The answer to all his problems was right there before him.
Go have a look at it.
Now there’s an interesting idea, he thought. But no, he should get some sleep. He would see the suit in the morning. Twenty-four hours from now he would probably know more about the Go-Boy Battle-suit Model 1-01 than he had ever wanted to know. The suit could wait. Part of being a good pilot is being well-rested. The Battle-suit would have to wait.
Parker envisioned the crowd of uniformed people surrounding the simulators, The Suicide Squad. They were all pilots. Were they really going to die if he didn’t help them? Fear filled his stomach. He thought of Gunner grabbing his throat, pretending to choke. The humiliation he’d felt while being reprimanded by General Ramsey and then by Colby in front of the other kids washed over him once again.
Is Colby right?
Is everyone waiting for me to fail?
Am I a sad sack?
Even Sunny said Colby was right about putting the past behind me.
A tiny voice in his head murmured in agreement.
Parker hated to admit hearing the voice. What was it Mrs. Black always said? If you fail to plan, you plan to fail?
Parker sighed into the darkness. He had to stop wallowing in the past and start thinking about the present while keeping an eye toward the future. Otherwise he would never find his dad.
And there he was, back to worrying himself sick about his dad. He couldn’t go more than an hour without the morbid thoughts creeping into his mind. Thoughts of his dad pinned down by enemy fire with no one to help him. Or propped against some thousand-year-old wall piled loosely with stones and small boulders, his bloody uniform covered in thousand-year-old dust, waiting for a rescue chopper that would never come and would most likely never be able to find him even if it did.
Parker couldn’t take it any longer.
He flung aside the sheets and swung his legs out of bed. The overhead lights flicked on due to his stupidity and forgetfulness for not putting tape over the motion sensor like he’d planned, thereby preventing the lights from turning on each time he changed position in bed, their stark white light waking him throughout the night. He dropped to the floor, quickly pulled on his uniform and boots. He crossed to the door and opened it carefully, quietly. He poked his head out into the hall and looked side to side.
All clear.
He pulled the door closed behind him and hurriedly tiptoed toward the elevator. After a few steps, he realized how ridiculous he must look. He stopped tiptoeing and resumed his path toward the elevator. He did his best to move quickly while hopefully still appearing relaxed, as though he were simply out for a midnight stroll.
He pressed the call button and waited for the elevator car to arrive. He scanned the hallway on either side, waiting for someone to come around a corner or for Sunny or Bubba or, heaven forbid, Colby to open their door and discover him there fully dressed and waiting for the elevator.
The car arrived and he slid inside before the doors had fully opened. He tapped the screen and the doors closed quietly. He felt his body weight increase a bit as the car sped upward, pressing his feet firmly against its floor.
Steadily the numbers decreased. The car eased to a stop and the doors opened.
Parker looked out.
Was this the way they had come that afternoon on their way to lunch? He couldn’t remember; everything looked the same. There were elevators and unremarkable hallways everywhere, all surrounded by secret doors. He decided to trust his instincts.
He proceeded down the short silver hallway to the massive doors at the end. Nearby was a smaller door with a metal push-bar like the one Bubba had slapped open when he surprised Colby in the Mess Hall. Parker pushed slowly on the metal bar until the door opened. He poked his head through. On the other side he found the enormous cavern of the Main Hangar. A wave of relief washed over him. He’d been half afraid he might accidentally find himself in General Ramsey’s private bathroom.
Darkness swam in the far corners and high eaves of the hangar. The massive screens and myriad computer terminals were equally dark. On the back wall, the giant eagle perched high above it all. Eerie red light shone down on the eagle, while a spotlight illuminated the shield on the bird’s chest, and the red, white, and blue glowed in the darkness.
Something else seized his attention. In the center of the hangar, five overhead spotlights shone down. Each beam of light washed down like a waterfall, pooling onto five massive objects covered in black sheets. He hurried into the hangar, inhaling the cool air which smelled of earth and rock. He went to the same platform he’d chosen that afternoon and stepped into the spotlight.
He slowly reached out and touched the cool black cover, grabbed hold of it and took a step backward, followed by another, then another and another, until the cover came free. He dragged it backward until he no longer stood under the glow of the overhead spotlight.
On the platform stood his Battle-suit.
Parker stood in front of it, staring at it. Now that he was alone, he could take it all in, and he truly looked at it for the first time. He admired every gleaming inch, every corner, every angle. The mysterious darkness and clean curve of the canopy. The breadth and depth of the shoulders. The tapered torso. The power resting in the massive hands. The destruction waiting to be unleashed by the cannons on the forearms. The thrust waiting to erupt from the massive black booted feet. The suit stood like a sentry under the heavenly light glowing high above. Parker was awed by its majesty.
He sat down on the cold, hard floor of the hangar and gathered up the silky black sheet and wrapped it around himself.
He stared up at the suit.
He sat that way for a long time.
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