Age of Monsters John Schneider (digital book reader TXT) 📖

even to tell her he was a pilot – he hadn't even brought it up until she found one of his business cards, which read simply, 'Jonah Kirkland Charters'.

“Captain Kirkland?” she had asked doubtfully.

She was even less impressed after she saw the little buckets he flew – one archaic old chopper and a single-engine plane.

And truth to tell, he was even a little afraid to fly those.  He simply didn't have the nerve or coordination to handle something like a fighter-jet.

He'd watched those guys practice – half-a-dozen planes, separated by a meter in formation, at twelve-hundred miles an hour – that kind of precision.  It actually gave him the shudders.

Jonah had wanted to learn to fly since he was young – enough to pursue it to a license – but it had never been like he'd pictured as a kid – it wasn't soaring like a bird – it was like driving a big, heavy truck – tons of weight going at high-speed.

The thought of taking that up to super-sonic – and then only a couple feet apart?

It was flat beyond his ability – he was simply a lower-grade model.

Neither did he particularly aspire to be any kind of hero – certainly, he had spent the last decade hiding himself away – he'd gotten unacknowledged communications from his ex-wife that said so.

Although, as it turned out, that had saved his life.

Living well was the best revenge – or in this case, just living.

He almost smiled before remembering how literal that was, and felt a little ashamed.

Jonah hadn't spoken to his wife in years, but he knew her phone number, e-mail, where she worked, and where she lived.

Now he wondered if she was still alive.

Naomi, in that regard, was of remarkably little help – when he'd mentioned his divorce, she expressed theatrical shock that any woman might leave all this.

Jonah reminded himself they were only in proximity through circumstances.

It was ironic – his time with Naomi actually left him feeling lonelier than he ever had living alone.  It was like being lab-partner with the popular-girl in high-school – with her embarrassed and chaffing under the forced contact.

Basically, if he was the second-to-last guy on Earth, she was STILL out of his league.

In fact, at dawn on day fifteen, Naomi informed him she was leaving.

He woke to find her dressed, packed, and ready to go.

“I hope you don't mind,” she said, “I took a few supplies.”

Jonah, who had been sleeping on his own couch, feet extended over one arm, had looked up blearily.

“What are you talking about?”

She made as if to check her watch.

“I told you, he's late,” she said.  “He always said he'd be in touch – he promised me he'd perform miracles.  Said he'd move Heaven and Earth.  But it's been two weeks and I haven't heard word-one.”

She hiked her pack.

“That means, I'm going to have to go and find him.”

She shook her head grimly.  “And then, God help him.”

Jonah was still wiping sleep out of his eyes.

“Hold on.  Where exactly do you think you're going to go?  You heard the last reports – everything's gone.  Hell, the reports are gone.”

Jonah had a regional map posted along one wall and Naomi pointed to Arcata Bay, bordering the town of Eureka, on the northern coast of California – maybe a hundred and fifty miles as the crow-flies, two-hundred or more by land.

“This is where we always said we'd meet,” Naomi said.  “If anything major went down.”

“Why?  There's nothing there.”

“That's why.  It's not likely to be a deliberate target – but it's a hubcap for military travel – by air and sea.  You can usually count on at least one destroyer anchored offshore.”

She tapped her dead cell-phone.  “They've also got a new communications tower.”

“Okay,” Jonah said, “that's a couple hundred miles.  How were you planning on getting there?”

“Well,” she said, her hands on her hips, “I notice you have a plane.  And a helicopter.  But I'll walk if I have to.”

She turned for the door as if ready to leave that very minute, tossing her hair impatiently over her shoulder.

“You are under no obligation to follow,” she said.

Jonah muttered under his breath as he dressed.  He pulled the keys to the chopper off the nail on the wall.

Naomi was already standing in front of the plane, studying it, and shaking her head disapprovingly.

Maybe he should try and claim repair issues, Jonah thought – stall another few days.

It would at least be sensible to do a maintenance once-over on the chopper – both air-craft were looking a bit like a mower that hadn't been ridden in a couple seasons.

But Naomi was eyeing him – poised to simply turn and walk back down the mountain without him.

Within the hour, they were in the air.

Chapter 13

To be fair, it was not a long flight – even in Jonah's taped-up little pod-fighter, they should safely make the distance inside a couple of hours.

He'd actually done the route semi-regularly in the past.  The military comings and goings also made Eureka a hub for maintenance folk – both boat and air-men throughout the surrounding region took their engines there.

So there could be worse destinations, Jonah thought.  Eureka also had air-parks and fuel stations – and Naomi was perfectly right about it being out of the way.  It was actually not a bad spot for a predetermined rendezvous.  Jonah was just glad her fighter-pilot hadn't told her to meet him in L.A.

They had taken his chopper instead of the plane – something Jonah knew by the numbers to be inherently more dangerous – a chopper was basically in a constant state of near-crashing – but when he was flying it, he could feel the wind – it