Free Blackbirds by Garry Ryan Page B

smells like the backside of a pub. He landed about an hour ago. The landing was bloody awful. He stumbled out, started drinking from a flask, and passed out.”
    â€œJust another hazard of my present occupation,” Sharon said.
    Patrick laughed. “You’re not going to let him fly, are you?”
    â€œHell no! Help me strap him into a seat, and I’ll fly us both back to White Waltham.” Sharon climbed inside the aircraft. It smelled of fabric, oil, sweat, and gin.
    She lifted Roger under the arms. Patrick grabbed him by the knees. They crammed him into his seat.
    Patrick tightened the harness. “Don’t want him getting up and moving about. Want me to get some rope?”
    â€œHe’ll be fine, I think.” She turned to her father. “Thank you.”
    â€œMy pleasure.” He took her hand. “The next time you’re here, there are things we need to talk about.”
    â€œWhat things?” Sharon asked.
    Patrick released her hand and squeezed his way down the fuselage, stepped out the door, and poked his head back in. “Next time.”
    He closed the door.

CHAPTER 8

    â€œYou look better.” Sharon sat down on a metal chair in Linda’s hospital room. “I brought you some magazines.” She lifted the cloth bag and put it on the table next to Linda’s bed.
    â€œHoneysuckle wants to see you.” Linda closed her eyes, opened them, breathed into her hand to check her breath, and grimaced.
    â€œWhat about?” Sharon asked.
    â€œI’m not really sure. You know my mother — she can be a bit secretive.”
    â€œNot with me.” Sharon shook her head.
    â€œDid I tell you Honeysuckle wants to talk with you?”
    â€œYes.” Sharon nodded.
    â€œOh. Didn’t I just say that? I’m a little fuzzy. The morphine, you know. Wonderful stuff, by the way.”
    â€œSo the doctors are putting your ass on your legs?”
    â€œYou have such a blunt way of explaining the most delicate and intricate of surgeries. And, as usual, you’ve hit the nail right on the head. You always manage to cheer me up with that direct approach to any problem.” Linda smiled.
    â€œYou were saying that your mother wants to see me?” God, Linda looks so thin and her hair has lost its shine .
    â€œYes, she said that you must drop by when you get a delivery close to her neck of the woods.” Linda looked out the window as a man walked past.
    â€œWhat do you see?”
    â€œOne of the boys who’s had his nose burned off. They’re building him a new one. You must have seen one or two on your way in. They have their new noses connected to one shoulder. Quite a shocker when you first see it. Now it’s all old hat. They’re still worried I might lose a leg, you know.” Linda looked at her friend.
    â€œI didn’t know.”
    â€œAnd they say you’re the reason why I have any hope at all of keeping both. How did you know to bring me here?”
    â€œThe pilot we met the morning your brother flew in from France. Remember?”
    â€œVaguely.” Linda stared at the wall. “If memory serves, I was busy beating him up.”
    â€œRichard, the Lysander pilot, had been burned. He told me about this hospital.”
    â€œGuinea pigs.”
    â€œWhat?” Sharon asked.
    â€œThe boys call themselves guinea pigs. Much of the medicine practiced here is experimental. Sometimes it’s called plastic surgery.”
    â€œPlastic. Sounds like something new.” Sharon looked at the mini-tent of elevated white sheet above Linda’s legs.
    â€œSpeaking of new, what’s new with your father?” Linda asked.
    â€œI saw him again. Just after I flew through a Luftwaffe bomber formation.”
    Linda sat up on her elbows. “Come on, tell me how you managed to find yourself doing something that mad!”
    Sharon told Linda about flying into cloud, being hunted by a Messerschmitt B