I looked down at Dirge. “You better go hunt before we leave. Stay close?” I asked, and he nodded, darting off into the woods.
“Alpha, we’ve got an issue.”
Never reassuring when the pilot says that. I reached down and tightened my seat belt, nerves ratcheting up ten degrees. I spared a glance at Leigh, her face pressed against the small window. She was queasy and pale, but so far had managed not to puke.
Kane removed his seat belt, then made his way carefully up the small aisle to where the pilot sat. “What is it?”
“The weather is rapidly deteriorating. I can request permission to set us down at the nearest airstrip, and we can wait for it to blow over. Or we can fly through it. We’re going to fly slower, though, and burn through more fuel than I’d like.”
“How much more?” Kane asked.
