Read Online Hover by Anne A. Wilson - Free Book Online Page A

and out of sleeve, pull strap off shoulder and slide down arm while under shirt, reinsert arm in sleeve, repeat on other side, pull out from below. All with the shirt on and nothing showing. It’s off in about ten seconds.
    â€œIs that something all girls know?” he says. “My sisters used to do that.”
    â€œI cannot believe I just did that in front of you. What the hell was I thinking?”
    â€œHey, you’ve had a long day.”
    I try unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn as I hand him my disgusting pile. “I’m not quite sure how I’m going to repay you for this, but I owe you big time.”
    â€œYou should get some sleep,” he says. “Will you be okay? Do you need anything else?”
    â€œNo, I’m good, thanks.”
    When he leaves, I sit back in the desk chair and pull my knees to my chest. His shirt slides easily over my legs, so I’m covered completely in a blanket of maroon.
    I cannot believe I just did that. Did I really just take off my bra in front of him? Oh my god. I can never tell Emily. I’d never hear the end of it.
    I stretch my arms above my head, allowing the yawn in force, this time. But as my arms settle back to the chair, my lungs expelling a rush of air, I’m left with a distinct heaviness as the emergency landing materializes into conscious thought.
    I stand, flicking off the overhead light, and crawl into the rack. I pull the covers over my head, close my eyes, and wait for the smoke, the ocean, and the nightmares to take me.

 
    8
    I stand in a tiny structure, sunken into the flight deck itself, designed for the pilots who remain on the ship to communicate with their counterparts in the air. The space is topped with slanted windows that protrude just above the steel surface of the deck. It’s crowded with four people—Commander Claggett, Brian, Eric, and me. I rise on my tiptoes, watching Sabercat 54 hovering over the flight deck and lowering parts by hoist.
    The ship continues to toss and dip in the heavy seas, the water muted to a predictable ashen gray under a stormy sunrise. The flight deck remains unsteady, as it was yesterday, and Zack is having a rough go of it. I can see him clearly, wrestling with the controls to keep it steady. But then, it does take some time for a pilot to settle into a groove in a situation like this.
    I’m glad I have two other pilots—neutral observers—watching, so I don’t have to question my sanity when Commander Claggett begins to speak.
    â€œNow that’s some aggressive flying,” he says, leaning over to Brian. “Zack’s an animal in the cockpit. Goes after it! Love it!”
    To his credit, Brian turns and gives me a quizzical raise of the eyebrows.
    I shift my attention back to an aircraft that’s bobbing and weaving in what looks like a helicopter prize fight. Now I understand the holes in the ramp, which from this vantage point appear to have been mended.
    â€œI’m going to maintenance to get this show on the road,” Commander Claggett announces, brushing past me. “Come on, I want you involved with this.”
    Once the work begins, I think about Commander Claggett’s presence here. In my opinion, it’s a hindrance. The guys know what they have to do. They know there’s a time crunch. Having someone standing over them who is not contributing to the maintenance effort, a person only interested in hurrying the process along, is detrimental to the evolution as a whole.
    But I’m just here to observe and learn. I sit on a work stand near the hangar door for the next four hours, watching the Sabercat and Shadow Hunter maintenance teams shine as they join forces to bring our aircraft back to a working status.
    As always, Lego and Messy lead the maintenance effort. They know the aircraft inside and out, one specializing in aircraft engines, the other in avionics and electronics. Between the two of them, they’ve saved us