THE KILLER ANGEL : Book Three "Journey" (THE KILLER ANGEL TRILOGY 3) (26 page)

After considering the options, Brick and I decided that returning to Hedley was our foremost desire. Having finally reconnected with Scottie, ending the long separation from Kip had surged to prominence in my mind and heart.

Brick, much to my surprise, had developed an enduring and genuine fondness for Hedley – the countryside and the people – but most especially for Kip and my grandparents. I was pleased to learn this as I knew the feelings were mutual, and the thought of having my friend living far off in the Dakotas had always been depressing to me.

Marshall had strenuously offered to give us a lift out of town in his truck, but we declined with thanks. Our trek would be paced out on foot, and we were ready to pitch into it.

We had our gear – clothing, shoes, packs and weapons – strapped, engaged, and clipped – every detail precisely located, to include Ben’s saddlebags and
the thin dagger slipped into its sheath in my braid.

Before convening for departure, Scottie pulled me aside, “I have something for you Nicki.” She opened her hand to reveal a bronze, silver dollar-sized coin. I knew it immediately; it was our father’s Airborne coin, an important symbol to us when we were young. Scottie had drilled a small hole near its edge and had passed a sturdy cord through it.

“I have his dog tags. Daddy would want you to have this.” And with those words, Scottie placed the string over my head and under my braid.

“Thank you, thank you...” was all that I could say as we embraced one last time.

Family. All survivors. We stood together just inside the main gate of Camelot, silently for a moment, in pride and affection for one another.

Unnoticed by everyone present, Scottie had produced a chilled bottle of Dom Perignon, along with five crystal champagne glasses and a bowl. She popped the cork like a pro, and poured each of us a few ounces of the still precious liquid. We raised our glasses...

“To ‘speed’...” she said.

“Never hesitate...” I replied.

“Never quit...” enjoined Brick.

“Resourcefulness...” added Marshall.

“Determination and focus...” concluded Flynn.

Then Marshall added with easy sincerity -
“Redstone!”
And with that final salute, we were off!

I wanted to go home, to Kip and to my grandparents. No more “adventure’” No diversions. No more rescues. I wanted to have my own life, to marry Kip Kellogg, to have children and to live an undisturbed life in Oregon, in the new age. I had done my part
.

People forget, I think, that I did not set out to become a hero. My one shining goal was to find my loved ones, and to bring them together. Let others carry civilization across what had been the United States of America. Let others search out survivors in what had been Canada
.

I would lock my guns and kit into Grampa’s old Army trunk
.

Soon... soon... I could do so
.

Yes, I had done my part
...

The Legend could retire
...

Epilogue

O
N THE main deck of a once magnificent cruise liner, a slender young girl quietly dropped coins into the dark water below, faint luminescence briefly exposed ripples in the otherwise smooth ocean surface.

The angelic beauty’s mother stood near, looking off into the night sky, her flowing auburn hair clearly visible in the moonlight. “We must leave soon, Dejah,” she said gently. Her daughter nodded in understanding.

Mr. Lapham walked by and tipped his cap. “Good night Ms. Redstone.”
Such a nice gentleman, one of the few honorable men on board
. A veteran of the Vietnam War, he must be over eighty years old, but he seemed not the least affected by his age. She waved and blew him a small kiss.

She pondered the life-preserver hanging nearby. It’s inscription gave her hope,
“Lady Tintagel”
, an homage to King Arthur and his valorous nights. It was a good omen...she had waited long enough.

Nicki’s Letter

Author’s note: Nicki’s letter – penned on simple, light-blue stationary - is preserved under glass in the Hedley Museum, pistachio shells placed rather humorously alongside. It was faithfully delivered by our first post-epidemic letter carrier, Quinton Bates. Her words are simple; her hand is firm.

To my Dear Family -

I write to you from somewhere in Alabama. I am fit and well, and only a few days from home. I am ever anxious to see Mom, Daddy and Scottie
.

Gramma and Grampa, I can’t wait to be in Hedley with you, sipping wine at sunset. Once I return, I hope to never to leave again
.

My darling Kip, I think of you often and miss you always. You are my light and my heart. You are my soul. I love you endlessly
.

Do not worry for me. My spirits are high and my strength is excellent. Ben is by my side
.

I love you forever!

Nicki

~ About the author ~

The author, writing under a pseudonym, is a former Army officer, career operations manager, business owner, adventurer, and father of three
.

Myles Stafford completed his undergraduate work at Oregon State University and earned his Master’s degree from the University of Southern California
.

Author email:
[email protected]

THE

KILLER ANGEL

Trilogy

THE KILLER ANGEL

Book One

“Hard Player”

THE KILLER ANGEL

Book Two

“Legend”

THE KILLER ANGEL

Book Three

“Journey”

by Myles Stafford

© 2015, Myles P. Stafford. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.