Piranha

“They moved her over to Bright Memorial. Her mother’s a doctor there. She’ll be fine. She was sleeping when I left.”

Stoner nodded. “My head feels like shit.”

Zen stared at him. If Stoner was looking for sympathy, he wasn’t going to get it from him.

“Seriously, man, there’s nothing between me and Brea

Zen took a deep breath, letting his body lean forward slightly in the wheelchair. Why was it Stoner who had lived? Why couldn’t it have been Ferris? Or Fentress? The poor kid, he was just getting the hang of the Flighthawks, just learning his damn job.

Why had anyone had to die? So the Indians and Chinese wouldn’t blow themselves and half the world to kingdom come?

Yes, thought Zen. That’s what it came down to. Their deaths meant millions of i

And yet, it didn’t seem fair at all. If Bree had been on of the ones to die, he’d have been inconsolable.

“You got the helicopter there?” Stoner asked. “The one that picked us up?”

“It was an Osprey,” said Zen.

“Thanks. We owe you a big one. You saved us.”

Zen stared at him. He had seen what’d he’d seen. But what was it—their bodies tied together, their cheeks close?

Maybe they hadn’t kissed. He trusted Bree more than that, didn’t he?

“You’re welcomed,” Zen said.

By the time Zen made his way back to Brea

Nothing harder than waiting in a hospital room, he’d thought then, but now he knew there were many harder things indeed. He thought of what she must have felt those long months after his accident, the one that had cost him his legs—the one that had cost her much of her hope for their lives. She’d stuck with him through that, even when he didn’t want her to, even when he didn’t know if he could stick with it himself.

How could he doubt her love after that?

It was his own security he should fear, his doubts about himself, not her. He shouldn’t doubt her at all. She was the one person in the world who’d had faith, who didn’t treat him like a gimp, whose face didn’t turn red when she caught sight of his wheelchair.

Ashamed, Zen reached his hand over and stroked her fingers.

“Hello,” she mumbled, opening her left eye and then her right.

“Hey. About time you woke up. You been sleeping the whole day.”

“I woke up and you weren’t here.”

“You did?”

“Yes, I did. Where were you?”

“I went over to see Stoner. He’s at the Navy air base. I had a hell of time bumming a ride.”

“How is he?”

“Looks like you.”

“Oh, thanks.” She pushed up on her elbows; Zen reached over and slid her pillow, then realized he could adjust her bed by the control. He fiddled with it, getting her to about a thirty-degree angle.

“My dad was here, and Da

Zen shook his head. “I talked to her on the phone twice. She didn’t remember anything I told her. Pretty dizzy for a doctor.”

Brea

“Yeah.”

“I saw Chris die. I couldn’t save him.”

“You couldn’t.”

“Collins and Dolk. They’re gone too.”

Zen took her hand.

“And Curly’s missing. Fentress.” Her eyes welled up, but as she started to cry she laughed too. “Remember all your nickname for him?”

“I was a bastard to the poor kid.”

“You made him a good pilot. I couldn’t save them, Jeff. I tried. I did.”

“Sometimes you can’t.” Zen leaned over and kissed her. Brea

“Sorry,” he told her.

“It’s okay, babe.” She patted his hand.

“Listen, I saw you and Stoner in the raft,” he said. “I saw you and two tangled together. I thought—look, I’m an asshole, but I thought you were in love with him or something. Last fling on earth. I went a little crazy.”

Pain creased her face.