I stared at the bullet wound as more shots rang out. There was so much blood gushing from my teacher’s stomach. More than I’d ever seen before. Bullets hit the side of the baggage handler that we were hiding behind. It shook but the suitcases inside took all the damage.

“Enara…” my teacher gasped as blood trickled out his mouth.

I scooted closer. My hands hovered over his wound but I was afraid that I’d hurt him even more if I touched him. He looked like he was in so much pain.

“Don’t worry Andor. I’ll… I’ll get some help.”

I looked around what had been a peaceful runway just moments before. It was a smaller airport. But it was always busy because of how close we were to the border. That’s what had made it one of the most secure airports because of the border patrol. So how had this happened?

Andor grabbed my arm before I could move out of cover. “It’s too late for me.”

“But…”

“Go. Fly…” He coughed up more blood.

I looked to the Cessna we were gonna train in today. Andor had shown me how to get the floats on. And he’d opened the door before the first shots had rung out.

“But what about…” The words disappeared as his lifeless eyes stared back at me.

There was no time to mourn as the side of the baggage handler exploded. I was on the ground with ringing ears when I saw them. A whole bunch of masked men shooting at the border patrol and police. The leader’s mask resembled an ice blue skull. Was that a bazooka in his hands?

My heart went into overdrive as he looked my direction. I was no longer covered by the baggage handler. But I was a lot closer to the Cessna than before. I itched to get up. To run. But playing dead would be best until they turned away.

There. Another squad had come at them from the east. I scrambled to my feet as more shots rang out. There was shouting but I couldn’t look back. Instead I jumped into the plane, slamming the door shut. It wouldn’t stop the bullets but I hoped to be in the air before they turned they’re weapons on me.

I flew through the checks on the pamphlet and made sure to turn everything on. The propeller felt like it took forever to start up. A few bullets holes had already been shot through the door. Masked people were running my way. The authorities weren’t too far behind them.

My heart pounded as I made the final checks. I jumped as someone slammed into the door. One of the masked men was fiddling with the handle. I shoved the power lever, jolting the plane into the fastest taxi I’d ever done. The man flew off as I made a sharp right too the east. But there were more masked men shooting at me now. I had to take off.

I got on the radio as I took a random runway. “This is Skyhawk 572 to watchtower. Is anyone there, over.”

“So, it’s a little girl ruining our plans.”

A chill went through me. And I urged the Cessna to go even faster. I’d take off in the middle of the runway if I had to.

“I’ll make a deal with you Skyhawk. Stop that plane right now and we’ll let you live.”

Like that would happen. I turned the radio off along with the transponder. Then I prepared to take off. More bullets peppered the plane and I turned to protect the propellers. Finally I spotted a clear spot of runway and took it. It took all 20 hours of my flight training to take to the air under a hail of bullets. And if I’d been any slower the bazooka would’ve gotten me.

A weight lifted off of me as I made it to 5,000 feet. I would’ve gone higher but I had no idea where I was going or how long the flight would be. It wasn’t as if I could land on my apartment building. I pulled up the big navigation map on the screen to see which airport was closest. But before I could touch the knob to zoom out I felt cold metal on the back of my neck.

“I need you to turn the plane around.” The man’s voice was strained. I turned to get a glimpse of a beard before he said, “Turn the plane around, now.”

I did as he asked. My heart continued to hammer as I asked, “Are we going back to the airport?”

“No.”

I released a breath. I was not eager to face the man in the watchtower. I risked another look at the man. He was short with really pale skin and dark long hair. Definitely from the north.

“How far are we going?”

“Just keep going north.” He swallowed. “I’ll tell you when to land.”

The gun at my neck was shaking now. I looked back at him. He looked really pale. And he was holding his side as he took ragged breaths.

“Are you hurt?”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t shoot you.” But his voice was weaker now. And the cold metal had been pulled away.

I gestured the first aid kit stored under the back seat that he occupied. I wished I would’ve thought of it before Andor died. But it had been a lot of blood. More than I ever wanted to see again. “You should patch yourself up.”

He didn’t say anything. But I heard the box open. Which probably meant he wasn’t paying attention anymore.

But I had nowhere to go. And my country would no doubt shoot me if I tried to cross back over the border.

I settled back in my seat. “My name’s Enara by the way.”

He was silent for a moment then said, “Boreas.”

At least he was more civil than the other guy.