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whipped around and in the corner of his eye he saw the wheel chocks on the back seat. He had remembered to remove them after all. Tim looked down and saw that the brake was still engaged. When he released it, the plane began to roll.
    Tim fumbled through a hasty takeoff. As soon as he cleared the power lines, he turned east to put the tornadoes at his back. The plane bounced through choppy air. Tim fumbled his headphones on as soon as he could. Blocking out the sounds of the plane brought him more focus. He retrieved the laminated book with the checklist and worked his way through. Even in a panic, he’d managed to do most of the items. Flying the little plane was starting to become instinct, but he knew he needed to maintain his diligence.
    When he’d been through the list twice, and was sure that the plane would stay in the air, Tim worked on Cedric’s harness. He got the dog clipped in and comfortable. Tim finally took a deep breath. He used the bodies of water and highways to place himself on the map and set the plane on the proper heading to get him home. It wouldn’t be difficult once he got within a hundred miles. He’d flown enough to recognize a ton of landmarks around his house, especially on such a clear day.
    “I think we should head north tomorrow,” Tim yelled to Cedric. The dog turned towards him.  
    The ground marched by steadily below them. Hills transitioned to a valley, where roads branched out to service a community. Tim let his eyes wander to the south. Somewhere below that haze, where the land met the sky, was the end of the intact world. He’d flown that way a few times, but promised himself he’d never go back. It was too depressing to see all that black earth, ravaged by fire and patrolled by columns of multicolored flame.
    Cedric didn’t like going south either. It was probably something in the air. Some smell made the dog whine whenever they got within ten miles of the scorched land.
    Tim let himself zone out while the plane floated along. The air was smooth here and the sun heated up the interior of the plane. It was peaceful and relaxing to listen to the drone of the engine. Even Cedric’s head was beginning to droop when Tim spotted the familiar ridge. He sat up straight and Cedric woke up too.
    “There we go,” Tim said. “Better alert the tower.”
    His thumb strayed to the radio’s trigger, but he didn’t press it. At night, he could trigger the runway lights with that switch, but there was no need in the middle of the afternoon. Tim executed his checklist and brought the plane down gracefully.
    When the engine was off, Tim released the harness. Cedric bounded off towards the house.
    Tim dragged the hose over to the tank’s inlet and walked back to the hand pump. He had an electric pump hooked up to a generator, but it seemed to silly to waste gas to pump gas. It was just as easy to pump by hand. Before he put the plane to bed he ran through a list of his own. He had a number of chores that other pilots might consider superstition. Tim liked a routine. He liked superstition.
    When Tim walked across the lawn, Cedric dropped his bone and picked up a frisbee. He dropped it at Tim’s feet.  
    “Not right now,” Tim said. “I want to copy these pictures and start dinner first.”
    There was plenty of time for play. It was a beautiful evening and the sun would be out until at least eight.  
    Tim compromised. He started some rice cooking on the propane burner and set a timer. Then, he took his computer out to the back deck. Cedric brought him a ball and he tossed it into the tall grass. He settled back into his chair and put his feet up on the picnic table.
    He opened his images.
    The window that showed the images was placed carefully so that he could only see half of a photo at once. All he really cared about was the edges anyway.  
    The latest images were the most powerful he’d seen. Even looking at only half of it could make him feel dizzy. As he knew from earlier that