Fallen - Lauren Kate [135]
To Luce’s surprise, Mr. Cole was holding out a large white towel when he hopped down from the cockpit. “A little angel told me you might need this,” he said, unfolding it for Luce, who took it gratefully.
“Who you calling little?” Arriane popped up from behind a tree, followed by Gabbe, who brought forward the Watchers book.
“We came to say bon voyage,” Gabbe said, handing the book to Luce. “Take this,” she said lightly, but her smile looked more like a frown.
“Give her the good stuff,” Arriane said, nudging Gabbe.
Gabbe pulled a thermos out of her backpack, handing it to Luce. She lifted off the top. It was hot chocolate, and it smelled incredible. Luce nestled the book and the thermos in her towel-dried arms, feeling suddenly rich with possessions. But she knew as soon as she got on that plane that she’d feel empty and alone. She pressed against Daniel’s shoulder, taking advantage of his nearness while she still could.
Gabbe’s eyes were clear and strong. “We’ll see you soon, okay?”
But Arriane’s eyes darted away, as if she didn’t want to look at Luce. “Don’t do anything stupid, like turning into a pile of ash.” She shuffled her feet. “We need you.”
“You need me?” Luce asked. She’d needed Arriane to show her the ropes at Sword & Cross. She’d needed Gabbe that day in the infirmary. But why would they need her?
Both girls only answered with somber smiles before retreating into the forest. Luce turned to Daniel, trying to forget that Mr. Cole was still standing a few feet away.
“I’ll give you two a moment alone,” Mr. Cole said, taking the hint. “Luce, from the time I start the engine up, it’s three minutes to takeoff. I’ll meet you in the cockpit.”
Daniel swept her up and pressed his forehead to hers. As their lips connected, Luce tried to hold on to every part of this moment. She would need the memory the way she needed air.
Because what if, when Daniel left her, the whole thing started to feel like just another dream? A partially nightmarish dream, but a dream nonetheless. How could it be that she felt what she thought she felt for someone who wasn’t even human?
“This is it,” Daniel said. “Be careful. Let Mr. Cole guide you until I come.” A shrill whistle from the plane—Mr. Cole telling them to wrap it up. “Try to remember what I said.”
“Which part?” Luce asked, slightly panicked.
“As much as you can—but mostly, that I love you.”
Luce sniffed. Her voice would break if she tried to say a thing. It was time to go.
She jogged toward the open door of the cockpit, feeling the hot blasts from the propellers almost knock her down. There was a three-step ladder, and Mr. Cole reached out his hand to help her up. He pressed a button and the ladder withdrew into the plane. The door closed.
She looked at the complicated dashboard. She’d never been in such a small plane. Never been in a cockpit at all. There were flashing lights and buttons everywhere. She looked at Mr. Cole.
“You know how to fly this thing?” she asked, wiping her eyes on the towel.
“U.S. Air Force, Fifty-ninth Division, at your service,” he said, saluting her.
Luce awkwardly saluted back.
“My wife always tells people not to get me started on my flying days in Nam,” he said, easing back on a wide silver gearshift. The plane shuddered into motion. “But we’ve got a long flight, and I’ve got a captivated audience.”
“You mean a captive audience,” she let slip out.
“Good one.” Mr. Cole elbowed her side. “I’m kidding,” he said, laughing heartily. “I wouldn’t subject you to that.” The way he turned to her when he laughed reminded her of the way her dad always did when they were watching a funny movie, and it made her feel a little better.
The wheels were rolling quickly now and the “runway” before them looked short. They would need to lift off pretty soon or they’d end up flying straight into the lake.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he shouted over the roar of the engine. “Don’t worry, I do this all the time!”
And just before the muddy bank below ended,