Will looked down and saw Fort Cromwell. The town was right there, and the old fort itself, the Revolutionary War site that everyone wanted to see, all the paying customers he took up for sight-seeing tours. But Will hardly even noticed today. He was too worried about Sarah. Picking up the radio, he called the tower at Brielmann Field. It was his home airport, and knowing they were just a few miles away filled him with so much relief, he couldn’t stand it.
‘This is 2132 Tango,’ Will radioed in. ‘We’re coming in at three o’clock, and we need clearance to land.’
‘We got you, 2132 Tango. Using runway one today, got two closed down on account of a stiff crosswind.’
‘Pretty gusty up here,’ Will said.
Glancing over at Sarah, he thought she looked worse. She seemed calmer, but her face was tight with pain, her lips almost blue. He considered asking Curtis in the tower to call an ambulance, but he didn’t. He’d drive Sarah to the hospital himself. Getting clearance to land, he started coming in.
Attempting to put the landing gear down, he needed two green lights and got one. He had a main gear light, indicating that the main landing gear was down and locked, but he wasn’t getting a nose gear light.
Will didn’t say anything. He could see the airport now, the runway shining black in the sun. There was the tower, that pillar of safety that always let him know he was home. Out of habit and not yet alarmed, he checked the gas tank: half a tank left. Gauges on Piper Aztecs were not particularly accurate, but give or take, he had a couple of hours of flying left on this tank.
Looking at the panel, he saw that the nose light still wasn’t coming on. He checked the fuse. Running his hand under the panel, he found the wire and jiggled it. No light. Exhaling once hard, he glanced over at Sarah.
‘Aah,’ she breathed, teeth clenched. ‘Oh, God.’
‘Sarah, we’re almost home.’
‘Hurry,’ she said. Looking over at him, she had animal fear in her eyes. She was in terrible pain. This was the first she had really let on, and Will knew it was because she knew she was almost there, she didn’t have long to wait.
Okay. Calm down, he told himself. The nose gear wasn’t going down by itself, the hydraulics weren’t working. But there was an alternate means of extension, a handle he could pull to activate a CO2 cartridge and blow the gear down. Will had never had to use the procedure before, but it had been built in for a reason.
He found the handle. Sarah’s pain had him panicking a little, and his fingers closed around the handle, shaking slightly. He knew this method functioned best with minimal airspeed, and he pulled back on the throttle. Pulled back more, slowing the plane down.
‘Dad, I think you’d better land right away,’ Snow said, sounding scared. ‘Sarah’s sick.’
‘I know that,’ Will snapped.
Snow started to cry. Sarah was silent, but the look on her face was excruciating. Will tried to concentrate. He had slowed down as much as he could, but the pressure had caused him to misjudge, and he pulled the handle too soon. The cartridge went off, but nothing happened. He still didn’t have a green light.
‘Shit,’ he said.
‘What’s wrong?’ Snow asked. ‘What’s going on? Is it something bad?’
He ignored her. Circling the airport, he tried thinking about the problem. His palms were sweating. Sarah and Snow could tell something was wrong. His silence, the look on his face, the fact that he was not answering Snow’s questions. She had been asking them fast and furious, but suddenly she had stopped. The plane was quiet except for the constant hum of the engines.
Will called the tower.
‘Brielmann Field, this is 2132, Tango. We’re experiencing problems with our nose gear. Not getting a green light.’
‘Fly by the tower, Will. We’ll take a look.’
Will got that rush of hope that he wasn’t alone in this. He had the responsibility of two lives besides his own, his daughter’s and that of the woman he loved, and he was really scared. Banking right, he flew back toward the airport. He spied his own hangar, Burke Aviation. He saw his car parked in the parking lot. And there was the tower manned by his friends Ralph and Curtis. He saw Curtis in the window, watching the plane fly by.
‘Your main gear’s down, Will,’ Curtis radioed back. ‘Nose gear’s hanging limp, does not appear to be fully extended.’
‘What’s that mean?’ Snow asked.
‘Thanks, Curtis,’ Will said.
Will didn’t answer.
The fuel gauge registered under a quarter, and the needle was dropping fast. One never knew with Piper Aztecs; flying a charter, Will never liked to cut it too close. The plane had good range, but the gauges weren’t always on the mark. He needed to almost run out, but not quite. Without nose gear, they were going to go in hard. There would be lots of sparks, a chance of fire. All he wanted to do was land for Sarah, but to save her life right now, he had to fly.
Every air pocket sent jolts down Sarah’s spine. She had lost all feeling in her legs, but the pain in her back shocked her. She had never imagined the human body could feel this way. She wanted relief, medication, Dr Goodacre. She understood there was a chance that she wouldn’t survive the crash landing, that none of them would. Will had taken a big loop north, and now they were coming in.
‘Get ready,’ Will said.
‘Oh, Dad,’ Snow cried.
Aiming at the runway, Will stared straight ahead. Sarah could see flashing lights everywhere. Police cars, fire engines, ambulances. Blue strobes, red flashes. Snow covered the land, and white foam coated the runway.
‘Okay,’ Will said. ‘I want you to put your heads down. Fold yourselves up as small as you can.’
‘Daddy, Dr Darrow,’ Snow wept. ‘He wiggled out of my hands, and I can’t get him.’
‘Leave him!’ Will said sharply.
Sarah had the impression of Snow reaching, stretching for the cat in the backseat. Will slapped the seat to get her attention.
‘Susan, let the cat go. Put your head down! Arms over your head, you hear me?’
‘Yes,’ she cried.
‘We’re going to hit hard,’ Will said, the words measured as he concentrated. ‘But we’ll be fine, just fine. We’re going to walk away from the plane as if nothing ever happened. Okay?’
‘I’m scared …’ Snow cried.
‘It’ll be over in just a minute,’ Will said, teeth set.
‘Daddy …’ she said, her voice breaking.
‘Are you listening? As soon as we stop, the instant I tell you,’ he said carefully, adjusting the approach. Sarah felt them evening out. ‘Undo your seat belts. And get out fast. Start running, and get away from the plane. Fast, okay? You both hear me?’
‘Fast, Dad,’ Snow said. ‘I hear you.’
Sarah must have spoken, but she didn’t know. She was in such a cloud, a haze of agony. Bending over stretched whatever was hurting her spine, made it jab deeper and harder, brought new tears to her eyes. She thought of Mike. For the first time, she realized how glad she was that he hadn’t come after all. He was safe with her father, far from this danger.
‘Sarah,’ Will said. ‘Snow. I love you.’
‘I love you, Daddy,’ Snow called.
I love you, Sarah thought but could not say. The plane hit the ground. It landed with a roar, scraped the surface raw, skated left and right, wanting to spin out of control. Will was holding on. His arms were iron straight as he fought the plane. Sarah heard him cursing and praying, heard the metal ripping apart around her. The metal screamed and tore. Propellers broke apart and segments flew against the window. Glass shattered, sparks flew from the friction.
And then they were stopped.
Will was out of the plane before Sarah could get her head up. Snow tumbled onto the tarmac, clutching the kitten. Will shoved her away, yelled for her to run. He flew around to Sarah’s side, undid the door. Emergency personnel surrounded the plane. Sarah saw foam spraying into the air. She heard firemen calling, shouting for everyone to move clear of the plane.
‘Come on, Sarah,’ Will said, holding the door open, undoing her seat belt. ‘You’ve got to get out.’
‘Out of the way, Will,’ one of the firemen commanded. ‘We’ll take over.’
Will stayed by Sarah.
‘Fuck it, Will. Your plane’s gonna explode! Now, move!’
Will ignored them. He stood very still, as if he had all the time in the world. With Snow far away and being helped off the field, Will had eyes only for Sarah. He held out his hand, crouched down to bring his face close to hers.
‘I can’t move my legs,’ Sarah said, looking straight into his blue eyes.
‘That’s okay, Sarah,’ he said gently. Reaching into the plane, moving as tenderly as he could, he eased her arms around his neck. She didn’t think she could hold on, but she did. Supporting her back, easing her out of her seat, Will lifted her into his arms. She pressed her face against his chest.
Will carried her to the ambulance where Snow was waiting. He lifted Sarah onto the vacant stretcher. He held on as they strapped her in. Even after the ambulance drove away, lights and sirens blazing, he didn’t let go.