Chapter 14 - Thirty Thousand Feet Above
The Boeing 737 roared down the runway, its engines screaming as the heavy metal tube lifted off the tarmac, leaving the frozen gray expanse of the northern winter behind.
From his window seat, the boy watched the patchwork fields and suburban rooftops shrink into an unrecognizable grid of green and brown, dissolving entirely beneath a thick blanket of fluffy white clouds. The pain in his hand was nothing more than a dull ache now—a reminder of an armor he had been forced to grow too early.
"Are you hungry?" Sarah asked, leaning over the center console to hand him a small packet of honey-roasted peanuts.
The boy tore open the corner with his left hand, popping a few into his mouth. He thought about the kitchen floor, the dark smear of blood, the cookie under the refrigerator, and the heavy iron poker. It felt like it had happened in another lifetime, to a completely different kid.
"Mom?" he asked softly, watching the sunlight glint off the polished silver wing of the plane.
"Yeah?"
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"Do you think he's cold down there?"
Sarah looked out her window toward the horizon, where the sun was burning a brilliant, blinding orange against the edge of the stratosphere. "He made his bed in the dark, honey. Let him lie in it."
