“How long have we been doing this?” Holly tried to straighten up, but her back was hurting her worse than after a 20K hike with a full ruck.
“Since birth,” Mike groaned.
She grabbed Mike’s wrist and looked at his watch. “We landed on this bucket of bolts carrier twelve hours ago. Twenty hours puts us back to Alaska. Twenty-seven to arriving there. Thirty to Tacoma. Bed was—”
“Forever ago.”
She dropped to sit on the hangar’s deck and Mike collapsed beside her.
“What are we doing now anyway?”
Holly looked at the wreck but couldn’t remember. She simply kept picking up pieces and trying to turn them back into the airplane. The pickings were now so meager that they were scrounging through the Unknown pile again. Placing a piece earned a high-five no matter how small.
Unknown Mike flopped
