Louis Collins: A Post-American Odyssey

Louis pushed through the opening and took a quick look around. They had come up at the rear of the vehicle yard, near the corner where he had been working that morning. Floodlights illuminated a row of trucks, a half-repaired Humvee, and a stack of tires.

A loudspeaker crackled over the yard.

“Security breach in administrative sector. All units on high alert. All gates sealed. Lockdown protocol in effect.”

“Perfect timing,” Gladice muttered as she pulled herself through the opening.

Angelique followed. Willa and Donya came next, then helped Maeve and Cherish out. Savannah climbed up last.

“Everyone down!” Gladice snapped. “Now!”

They flattened themselves behind the stack of tires. A truck engine roared to life across the yard. Headlights swept across the tires, then moved away. Two soldiers ran past the stack toward the main gate, rifles raised. Louis waited until their footsteps faded. From behind the tires, he looked across the yard.

The Black Hawk was parked under the far awning, its nose pointed toward the open end of the yard. One side panel had been pulled shut but not secured, with one corner still unlatched. Canvas tie-downs secured the rotor blades. A ladder leaned against the fuselage, and toolboxes and a coil of cable lay beneath it.

Maeve stared at the helicopter, then turned to Louis.

“You wanted a way out.”

“Yes.”

“Then we fly the chopper.” She pointed.

They ran after her, keeping low between the trucks. Maeve reached the Black Hawk, pulled open the loose panel, and glanced inside. She ducked beneath the aircraft, looked toward the tail, then climbed into the cockpit.

“Fuel’s in,” she called back. “Battery might hold. We are taking it.” She pointed at Willa. “You are the smart one. Can you read a panel?”

Willa stared at her. “I am not a pilot.”

“Neither am I.” Maeve shifted farther into the cockpit. “Move.”

Willa went pale, then climbed into the other seat. The rest entered through the side door and laid the rifles on the cabin floor. Webbed seats lined the bare metal walls. A multi-barrel minigun sat on a mount beside the open door under a canvas cover. An ammunition box was secured beneath it. Another mount across from it was empty.

Savannah pulled the cover from the minigun. “This thing loaded?”

Gladice leaned in and checked it. “Enough.”

Louis looked over the empty mount, then turned back toward Savannah.

“I’ll take that.”

“Vegas? Huh? You think you can hit anything?”

“I’m the most experienced here with a MG on a chopper,” Louis said. “Now move.”

He took her place and made sure the minigun was ready.

Maeve’s voice came from the cockpit. “Everyone strap in. Now.”

The others took the webbed seats and buckled themselves in. Cherish sat between Donya and Angelique, her shoulders drawn in and her eyes wide. Angelique put an arm around her shoulders.

“We are going to be okay,” she said.

Cherish nodded, but her face was white.

Lights came on in the cockpit. Something clicked, followed by a brief mechanical whine. Then it stopped. Maeve swore.

“Battery indicator is low,” Willa said.

“I can see that.”

“It says external power disconnected.”

“Because they unplugged it.”

Louis heard switches clicking in the cockpit.

“Come on,” Maeve said. “Come on.”

The lights in the cockpit flickered. A low whine began, died, then came back weaker.

Cherish clutched the webbing with both hands. Donya leaned close to her.

“Keep your head down.”

“I am.”

Angelique stood at the open side door, one hand gripping the frame as she watched the yard. Gladice and Savannah picked up two of the rifles from the cabin floor.

“Movement.”

Louis looked out. A young mechanic appeared between two trucks thirty yards away, carrying a tool bag. He stopped when he saw them. He stared at the open helicopter and the gray jumpsuits inside. His mouth opened. Gladice fired first. The shot struck him in the chest, and he fell backward against a tire stack. Savannah fired after her, and the mechanic slid down out of sight. Someone shouted beyond the fence.

“We’re out of time,” Maeve said.

The whine deepened. The rotor blades jerked against the canvas straps and stopped. The helicopter shook around them.

Willa said, “Pressure is rising.”

“Good.”

“Some warning lights are still red.”

“Ignore them.”

Louis looked up. “The straps.”

“Cut them! Cut them now!”

Angelique and Savannah were already moving. Savannah set her rifle back on the cabin floor. Angelique jumped down with her knife, and Savannah followed. Angelique took the nearest strap while Savannah ran around the nose toward the far side. Angelique sawed through the canvas. The strap snapped and struck the airframe. A moment later, the far strap dropped loose. Savannah came back around the nose and climbed into the cabin. Angelique moved to the final tie-down and stepped onto the landing gear to reach it while Louis kept the minigun aimed across the yard.

A truck came around the corner beyond the fence, its headlights swinging across the yard. Savannah grabbed her rifle.

“Contacts!” Gladice shouted and opened fire. The rounds punched into the truck’s hood. Savannah fired beside her, aiming at the driver’s side. The truck swerved, its tires skidding, and slammed into a stack of pallets. Men jumped from the back.

Angelique cut through the final tie-down. It snapped, and she threw herself back into the cabin. The Black Hawk lurched. Cherish cried out and grabbed Donya’s arm. The wheels lifted a few inches, dropped, then lifted again.

Maeve shouted from the cockpit, “Come on, you bastard!”

The helicopter rose with a sideways wobble and nearly clipped a stack of fuel drums with one wheel. Willa shouted something Louis could not hear. The helicopter jerked backward and to the left. The tail swung. A spotlight swept across the cockpit and caught them. Bullets struck the lower fuselage and rang against the metal.

Louis returned fire with the minigun. He pressed the trigger. The barrels spun, and tracer rounds struck the ground around the searchlight until a burst shattered it. He swung the minigun toward the soldiers and fired again. Rounds tore into the truck bed and the men scattering from it. Rifle fire came back from below. A round hit the open door frame and sparked against the metal.

The Black Hawk climbed above the awning. Rotor wash scattered the smoke below. For one second, the nose dipped toward the awning. The helicopter rolled hard before leveling. Through the open door, Louis saw Beckley below. Searchlights moved across the streets. Louis heard sirens from every direction.

A voice came over the radio.

“Unidentified aircraft, you are in restricted airspace. Return to ground immediately. Repeat, return to ground immediately.”

“Turn it off!” Maeve yelled.

Willa reached for the radio, and the voice cut out. The Black Hawk cleared the outer buildings. Red and white tracer fire rose from near the schoolhouse. The helicopter banked hard right and dropped into the smoke, then climbed over the hills. A gun opened fire from a rooftop to their right. The rounds passed behind them. The helicopter banked left so hard that Donya lurched against Cherish despite the straps. Angelique caught them both and held them against the seats until the helicopter leveled.

“Maeve!” Willa shouted. “Anti-air! Two o’clock high!”

The Black Hawk’s nose pitched up. It climbed steeply, the engine noise rising. An anti-aircraft round exploded below and to their left, filling the cockpit with a white flash. The helicopter swung hard to one side as another round burst behind them. Willa grabbed the side rail with both hands and braced.

The helicopter headed toward the mountain and dropped into a shallow valley between tree-covered slopes. Beckley’s lights receded behind smoke and ridgelines. The helicopter stayed low and followed the valley through each bend.

“Where are we going?” Willa asked.

“North.” Maeve’s voice was tight with strain. “We need to get the fuck out of their range.”

A high warning tone cut through the cabin noise. Willa froze.

“Flares!” Maeve yelled.

White flares burst from the Black Hawk and streamed behind them. The helicopter dropped sharply. Cherish screamed. Donya wrapped both arms around her. Louis slammed against the minigun mount. Through the open door, he saw a bright streak closing from behind. It turned toward the burning flares and passed below them. A second later, it struck the hillside. White-orange fire flashed through the trees, and the blast rocked the helicopter sideways.

“Apache!” Gladice shouted.

Louis saw a dark helicopter above and behind them, moving over the ridge with its nose angled down. Its running lights were off. Red markings flashed in the light from the burning hillside.

Maeve’s face went white under the grime.

“Fuck,” she said.

The Apache dropped lower behind them. Rotor noise, alarm tones, and loose metal rattled through the cabin. Willa leaned beneath the panel and pulled a cable loose.

“Beacon cut!” she shouted.

“Too late,” Maeve said.

The Apache’s cannon opened fire. Tracer rounds passed beside the helicopter in short bursts. One hit the rear frame. Another punched through the cabin roof above Louis. Hot fragments sprayed across the floor. Angelique pulled Cherish’s head down. Donya leaned over her from the other side. Savannah braced the loose rifles between her boots.

The Apache shifted left and climbed toward their level. The Black Hawk swung right and dropped. The valley narrowed, and the Apache followed. A missile warning sounded again. Flares burst behind them as the Black Hawk turned into a narrow gap between the hills. The aircraft shuddered. Willa started calling out altitude numbers. A white trail curved toward them from behind. The Black Hawk dropped so low that Louis saw water flash beneath them, either a creek or a drainage ditch. The missile struck the ridge above and behind them, sending burning fragments into the valley.

The shockwave shoved the helicopter forward. Louis saw Maeve braced over the controls.

“Hang on!”

The Apache climbed over the ridge, exposing its side against the burning hillside for two seconds. Louis squeezed the trigger. The minigun opened fire. The vibration shook his arms and shoulders and rattled his teeth. Tracer rounds streamed toward the Apache. His first burst went high. Maeve shouted something he could not hear. He lowered his aim. The tracer line dropped until rounds struck the Apache. Sparks burst along its flank.

“Hold it!” Gladice shouted. “Hold it!”

Louis held the trigger down. His hands went numb. He saw only the tracer line, the Apache, and the flashes where rounds struck. The Apache turned away. He kept firing as it moved across his view. A panel tore loose near the rear. Smoke began to pour from the engine cowling. Then flames appeared. The Apache broke right and dropped. For a moment, Louis thought it would recover. Its nose lifted. Then the tail swung wide. The aircraft rolled, struck the treetops, and disappeared behind the ridge. An orange flash lit the valley. The minigun ran dry. Louis held the trigger for another second before he realized it. He let go. His arms shook. The cabin smelled of burnt powder.

Maeve’s voice cut through the engine noise. “Holy shit.”

Willa looked at the instruments. “We are losing hydraulic pressure.”

Maeve laughed once. “Of course we are.”

“Can we keep flying?”

“For a while.”

“How long?”

Maeve did not answer. Below, Louis could make out dark ridges and hollows. Fires still burned in Beckley behind them. He could no longer see the searchlights beyond the hills.

“Is everyone alive?” Angelique asked.

Cherish lifted her head from Donya’s shoulder. Her face was white, her eyes wet. Gladice was smiling in the open door. Willa kept working the panel, her hands moving fast. Savannah looked at Louis.

“Nice shooting, cowboy.”

He swallowed, his throat dry, his body still shaking. “Thank you.”

Gladice sat with her rifle across her knees and watched the darkness beyond the open door. Louis looked ahead. Somewhere beyond the river and the next border, they might finally be free.