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I start to get worried, as the sun drops lower across peaks. Finally, the falcon runs, flaps, and takes off.

As I leap in the chopper, I yell. “How about a little warning?”

The blades spin fast, and I lift the chopper straight up. I have to maneuver radically, as I try to find the falcon in the sky.

After sweating buckets, I see a flash of feathers over the trees. I finally have him.

I still have no idea, if the Peregrine will lead me to water, a rabbit, or back to fucking NYC.

It’s all I have.

Because falcons have some of the best eyes in the animal kingdom, there’s a chance, we can find her, before I run out of daylight.

As I turn to the horizon, I gulp. The sun is starting to set, and when it’s gone everything goes black.

When the sun is gone, I will be gone from this world.

There is nowhere to land. Just trees.

And darkness…

The end of life…

As the sun drops lower, my stomach clenches, and I breathe deep.

This is it!

46

STORM

As I sit in the outdoor bath, I finally let it all go. It is perfectly quiet, and perfectly peaceful. The setting sun, and its colors are vivid. They are beautiful, and calming.

I’ve always enjoyed the outdoor bath, and its view of the winding river. It takes me back, to a time when life was simple. Without chaos and uncertainty.

I focus on the old book, again, and it is an old favorite. A classic. It’s about someone going through life’s ups and downs, but doing it with grace.

Unlike me.

As I sip the home-made moonshine, I think of grandpa. I knew where he’d hidden his stash, he’d shown it to me before he passed.

I think of my grandmother, and then, them both. They were always madly in love, and they were for as long as I can recall.

What did they have, that we did not?

And is it me, because I’m broken?

As I sigh, I look up at the sun. I have several minutes of warm rays, and then it will be gone. Snuffed out, like my time in NYC.

As I read on, I flip a page. I leave a wet finger mark on it, and focus on the next sentence.

Suddenly, I hear a high-pitched cry, and movement catches my eye. A bird streaks by in the distance, and then it swoops over the treetops, and my bath ultra-fast.

It banks around, and seconds later, it almost hovers in front of me. It flaps its giant wings, and its cold black eyes focus on me. “What the hell?”

It looks like the falcon from New York, but that is insane.

Before I can move, it drops, landing on the large outdoor table. It then eats the rest of my sandwich.