Chapter Eight

The helicopter is waiting on the pad for us. The blades already whirl and spin as we approach, ready for us to take off.

“We're taking the helicopter?” I ask, sure Christopher had said something about a plane. I realize that I have no idea where we are going.

Christopher looks at the helicopter and then at me. “Saves time,” he explains as if it should be obvious. “The plane's waiting for us at the tarmac.”

I frown, wondering what a helicopter like this must cost and what the hell I have gotten myself into.

“What, you'd rather sit in traffic?” Christopher asks me.

With that he walks out to the helicopter, right under the blades, and steps inside. He doesn't duck as he walks. He doesn't look afraid. He walks into the helicopter the way I walk into a subway car. Like it's something I've done all my life.

I swallow hard and follow him. I duck low under the swirling blades. They're noisy and I can feel the wind they make. I pull myself up the stairs and into the cabin of the helicopt
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