Bomb-Boy

He chewed on the filter of his cigarette, looking out at the gray curtain of fog flowing past. The air had grown stale inside the bay, and his ears continued to pop with the climbing altitude. They weren’t flying alone today; they were flanked on either side by fighter jets. Following them was a group of three more in a tight ‘V’ formation, he couldn’t see from where he sat, but a good distance ahead there was another group scouting.

Even with all the previous simulations of escort parties just like this, it still didn’t prepare him for the stress of their mission today. They were traveling with ten thousand pounds of nuclear weapons. A call for nuclear response had come shortly after Ukraine fell. The war had gone on too long, too many lives have been lost, starvation of resources and populations forced the hand. He still felt the knot in his stomach from when he had heard the news. He had been watching the soldiers play cards when the message came, they all knew the command would come eventually, but their faces still became sickly pale. The game of cards continued not for fun, but for a sake of distraction. He lit a cigarette and joined in the next hand. 

Static in his ears jolted him into focus, they had traveled beyond the fog, he stared down at the soft white sheet below. The noise had come from his headphones, and it came again. “Hey bomb-boy are you there” the voice was obviously irritated but maintained the directness of a soldier. 

“I’m here” he responded, the unlit cigarette tip bouncing up and down with each syllable. 

The voice continued, “We are T minus thirty minutes. Start checking the cargo”.

The cigarette bounced twice more with his response “Roger”.

The bomb-boy unbuckled his harness and grunted as he stood up. He stretched and made his way to the units holding the death machines. He stood with spectacles on the tip of his nose, looking at his checklist, going through each one with diligence and precision. Having worked closely on these models, he knew them intimately and made good time. Upon arming the last of the warheads, he stood looking at them, about ten in total. Each was fully capable of leveling a city the size of New York; before him sat ten. On his trip back, there would be none. His stomach felt heavy in his gut, and he wanted very badly to light his smoke. He began to think about himself as a child. As a student, he was proficient in mathematics. His teachers quickly suggested moving to harder courses, at around the age of 16 he was almost done with his thermodynamics studies, far too young to graduate, as he had few friends and even fewer romances. When he graduated, he was offered several positions, but settled on nuclear research. At 25 now, he thought about that kid now standing beside himself looking at the now humming bombs.

Nicolai was coming home from school, the winter days meant that the sun was coming up now later into the day. The air was delicious and cold as he trekked along. A siren began to wail, the slow moan droning from loud to quiet to loud again. He had heard these sounds a lot recently, and he picked up his pace back home. Others in the street began doing the same.

When he made it back home, he was out of breath and went straight to the waterspout and put his head underneath and drank straight from the tap. Taking big gulps, letting water flow down his chin. He looked up finally after he heard a rumbling above.

His mama and papa were already outside, their necks craned straight up, looking at the passing formation. At the center was a large carrier, from the distance it looked no larger than a piece of corn, but he could tell it was probably quite large in person. It was flanked by planes that looked like the fighter toys on his bedside. 

A small speck fell out of the bottom, and then another. His parents embraced. Nicolai looked away when they kissed. Papa bent down eye level with the boy and pressed his forehead against Nicolai’s holding hard on the boy's neck. Tears were forming in papa’s eyes. Nicolai had never seen his father cry. An instant later there was a flash of light in the distance and Nicolai for a moment could see straight through papa, seeing his skeleton silhouetted against the whiteness. Then, there was nothing.