Chapter 2

Hunter

He feltlike he was about to shatter—but in an exciting way he never expected to actually enjoy. He was alone. Harley had always been there for every bit of his life so far, but now he was about to have something that was just his own.

They’d shared birthday parties growing up, matching outfits, sometimes matching haircuts (which only happened once because it made Harley cry), and matching baseball uniforms. He’d been number thirteen—and she’d been number thirty-one on the team… in fact, they even took together their pictures with their backs to each other.

The twins were practically inseparable in everything… except in this.

He was leaving her behind to start his life.

“You okay, man?” Jackson said quietly beside him in the van on the way to the airport. He’d been his best friend since seventh grade and had helped each other several times in classes or studying.

For Harley, class and her grades seemed to come easily to his sister—but for him, it was a bit more of a struggle. They complimented each other quite well - but she had the brains, and he had the fine motor skills. Smiling softly to himself, he fondly remembered that she still couldn’t ride a bike or roller-skate without falling down.

“Will she be okay?”

Hunter looked at his best friend in surprise and dawning awareness. He knew Jackson had been looking at Harley a little differently, but hadn’t said a thing… but he also hadn’t dated anyone, either. The other guys in school would go out with any girl that would give them the time of day.

…Not Jackson.

No, Jackson was selective and knew what he wanted.

He admired that about his friend. Once the man had made up his mind, nothing would stop him. He was all in and a driving force—and it was incredible to behold the single-minded push within him when he’d decided upon a course of action.

The Air Force Academy had been his idea ever since that afternoon they’d gone up in the crop-duster. What Jackson didn’t reveal to anyone is that he’d been flying that old plane a few times by himself for the past few years.

Jackson always kept his secrets—including his recent interest in Harley as of late.

“She’s my sister, dude…” Hunter said softly, watching Jackson. “She’ll be fine, and we are almost at the airport.”

Jackson stared at him strangely before shrugging.

“I was just being nice because she’s your sister… dude,” he replied finally, exaggerating the last word pointedly before looking forward once again. Hunter saw Jackson swallow, a sign he was nervous, and looked back out the window again… as if to memorize the last few sights before he left home.

He hoped Harley was okay.

* * *

The next fewyears were a crash course in what his new life was like. Physical fitness tests weren’t for the weak. They jogged everywhere… and he meant everywhere.

Discipline was your mantra. One morning he made his bed and there was a wrinkle, so the commanding officer yanked the covers off every single bed within the barracks room just so Hunter could have some ‘practice’.

He’d been so angry… and hungry.

That stunt taught him to do things right the first time and not halfway—something that would come in handy years later at flight school. It was humbling to listen to the instructors as he sat there at the small desk within the crowded auditorium.

Jackson wasn’t far away—which surprised him, because he was certain they would have been separated once they’d been issued their assignments and completed graduation.

“Listen up, Flyboys!” the instructor began. “There is no more ‘getting by’ or ‘meh, it’ll be okay’ anymore. Do you hear me?”

The silence was deafening within the room.

“Your lives are no longer your own. Your dreams are now Uncle Sam’s—and your goals…?” he smiled softly. “Your goals are now mine.”

There was almost a predatory or feral bite to those softly spoken words that caused several men to look around. Hunter didn’t budge; rather he couldn’t take his gaze off the instructor—realizing the man was measuring up the room visually to see who was paying attention.

He met his gaze and nodded.

“What you do from here on out… what you learn… will someday save your life or someone else’s. There is no more fooling around or cutting corners. You skip a step? You, or someone you know, could die because of it. Am I clear?”

A resounding clipped charge came out of him instinctively and echoed around him – beaten into him over the last several months mentally.

“Sir! Yes, sir!”

“You will listen to everything we say—and question nothing. You don’t have to like what I say—but comprehend why we do things, and the reasoning behind it. Got it?”

“Sir! Yes, sir!”

“Now, some of you will make it because you have the instincts, know-how, and drive to succeed… and some of you won’t,” he said, pausing dramatically as he moved from the podium to walk around the stage as if to make his point.

“You are alone in that plane—but never truly alone because you belong to a team. It’s your job to make sure your team makes it, and you don’t cause them to get killed because of sloppiness or inaction.”

Hunter swallowed, remembering the wrinkle in the bed.

“Your actions, everything you do, have an effect that could alter your plane’s performance, your trajectory, or your sightlines in the air. In the heat of a dogfight, your plane is your shield, your body, and your gun—all wrapped into one. Don’t be a fool and make stupid decisions…”

The instructor stopped pacing.

“Be smart. Be decisive. Be cunning, because you are contained within an object flying faster than the speed of sound and more lethal than anything you could imagine.”

You could have heard a pin drop in that moment.

“Flying is a feeling unlike any other… and for you, thrill seekers? Flying at fifteen hundred miles per hour is sometimes the best feeling in the world. It lasts for minutes or hours… but with one screw up? The fear you will feel only lasts for a half a second, before you smear your remains on the ground, wiping out anything in your path—including homes, families, and children.”

The instructor cleared his throat and returned to the podium. He grasped both sides of the wooden stand and looked out into the unmoving crowd.

Hunter felt his pulse racing to hear it put so very bluntly to them—but this had to be said. He was right, there was no sugarcoating this next step for them. If they screwed up, cut corners, or failed to do something vital… it could get people killed.

“I’m not telling you to frighten you—but rather encourage you to be the best you might be… because you now protect the world. You represent our finest men and women in this nation—and you have a duty to uphold. It’s not just about flying anymore. It’s about maintaining your safety, their safety, and your team’s safety so you can perform your duty again and again. Got it, Flyboys?”

“Sir! Yes, sir!” they roared in response.

The instructor smiled genuinely this time.

“Welcome to flight school, fellas…”

* * *