True Blue #05 – “Back in the Saddle” (Part 5)

True Blue

Duncan stared out the window. Orange stretched from the horizon, interrupted only by shadows cast by the hills and ridges. Between them Wungurra sat as a cluster of roofs, so small yet so sparse.

Every mile dimmed the warmth of Les’s smile. “They couldn’t leave you rest,” the elder had lamented; “go on, save the world. I’ll be here.” Their embrace lingered, even from a distance.

By his side Little Rip slept, curled up on her back to feel the massage of engines. She kicked and whined with the turbulence, but fell back to sleep when it passed.

The hero gripped his seat. Skin against leather pulled with the tightness around his lungs. For every mile that scaled down his home the more he wound his shoulders and adjusted.

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True Blue #04 – “Back in the Saddle” (Part 4)

True Blue

The hinges creaked under the lazy swing of the door. The sergeant stepped inside with steps as heavy as his grimace. From his hand he dropped a file and let it slap the table. In his other hand was a styrofoam cup, contents still steaming, which he placed in front of the other man.

“Thought you might fancy a cuppa,” the cop muttered.

True Blue reached with hands cuffed and brought the contents to his lips. “Cheers,” he said. The old hero eased back in the loose fitting tee he’d been given; a temporary replacement for the shirt shredded by buckshot.

A younger officer sat to one side as the senior perused the file. His lips smacked as though he were tasting the words as he read them, until he stopped and lowered his glasses to the man across him.

“Couldn’t help yourself, could you, Dunc?”

True Blue chuckled. “I’m guessing this isn’t a formal interview, Col.”

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