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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

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HOURS LATER, WHEN OUR meeting was over, we joined the others in the main living space.  Daniella and Alexa were awake, showered, dressed, and fed, but I could sense in them the fatigue that came from being in the air so long. 

Daniella was a fidgety mess—she had her earbuds in and was dancing to whatever music she was listening to on her iPod.  She was dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt, and there was nothing on her feet.  She was shaking her ass suggestively near Cutter, who was busy ignoring her while reading his Kindle.  Alexa was sitting in front of the television watching what looked to me like a documentary on whales.  She seemed bored out of her skull to me.  Lisa now was seated next to Tank with her head on his shoulder, and even she appeared as if she’d rather be anywhere other than here.

And so I took Amy aside and asked her how long before we reached Manila.

“We should be on the ground in two hours.  And then we’ll begin the eight-hour flight to Singapore.

“So, another eleven hours or so, at the least?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“I think Daniella is going to spin herself right into Cutter’s lap.  And Lisa’s about to dive into napsville.  Any ideas on how we can entertain everyone?”

“I could always bring out a tray of cocktails.”

“Barbara would have my ass if we did that, but that’s nothing new—and it’s not a bad idea.  Maybe it would numb Daniella into submission.  What time is it now?”

“In which time zone?”

“Thank God you’re clever.”

“Just trying to help.  But for us, it’s just after noon.  How about if I serve lunch?  Then, if you give me the nod, I could serve one cocktail each?”

“What the hell?  Let’s have lunch and then haul out the booze —none for me, though, because I’m not feeling well.  Maybe an early afternoon cocktail party will spark everybody back to life.”

“I’m on it,” she said. 

When she left, I went over and sat opposite Lisa and Tank.

“Don’t look so excited,” I said to her.

“I’ve never flown this far in my life—how do people do it?”

“No idea.  I’m itching to just get my feet on the ground.”

“Hell, I’m ready to go all pope on your ass, and kiss the ground when we land.  How are you feeling?”

“Better.  The mornings are the roughest.”

“Tank told me that you got sick.  I’m worried about you.”

“It’s just morning sickness—don’t be.”

She nodded over at Daniella, who was twerking to music the rest of us couldn’t hear.  “At least you don’t look as rough as that,” she whispered.

“Let’s just say that she’s working out a few issues...”

“Boy trouble again?”

“Good guess.”

“A shopping spree should put a temporary end to that.”

“You’re good to do this.”

“Hey, I get to see Singapore.  It’s my pleasure.”

I was about to reply to her when the pilot’s voice came over the intercom.

“Folks, just an update.  For some reason, our heating system has malfunctioned.  It’s likely just a loose wire, or a faulty chip, but it’s nothing to be alarmed about.  Amy, if you wouldn’t mind getting blankets for our guests, including one for yourself, we’ll need them very shortly.  In an effort to stay warm, we’re going to drop below the cloud line, where the air mass is warmer.  You’ll still feel a chill, but it won’t be nearly as bad as it would be if we remained at thirty-five-thousand feet.  We’ve already radioed ahead to Manila.  They know of the issue, and they are prepared to fix the malfunction before we leave for Singapore.  When we dip below the cloud line, we expect some turbulence, so if you would please buckle yourselves in, we’d appreciate it.  We’ll be in Manila before you know it.  Our apologies for any inconvenience.”

I furrowed my brow at Lisa, patted her on the knee, and then went over and took the window seat next to Alex.

“What’s this about?” I asked him as I buckled myself in and put my arm around his shoulders.

“Sounds pretty minor to me,” he said, giving me a quick kiss on the lips. 

I looked out the window, and saw below us that the clouds weren’t just dark—they were nearly black.  “Are we heading into a storm?” I said in a low voice.  “Look at it out there.”

He leaned over and glanced out the window.  “I’m not sure.”

“If this plane starts to rock, you know what’s going to happen to me.”

“We’ll be fine.  Our crew is among the best.  Trust me on this, OK?  I don’t hire just anyone.”

Nevertheless, I reached for the barf bag tucked in the pocket on the left side of my seat, and held it in my lap.  “I trust you, but I’m not taking any chances.  And I apologize now should anything happen.”

“I wish you wouldn’t apologize, Jennifer.  There’s nothing to apologize for.”

I reached for his hand and squeezed it in my own as the plane began its descent.  I looked ahead of us and watched Amy come from the front of the plane and start to hand out blankets to everyone—except to Daniella, who was still dancing in front of Cutter to the beat of someone else’s drum.  “Look at her,” I said.  “She probably didn’t even hear the pilot.”

“Blackwell will get her in line.”

“She’s a handful.”

“She always has been.”

“Daniella,” Blackwell said.  “Sit down and buckle your safety belt.”

But Daniella didn’t hear her, and she continued to dance with her back to her mother as the plane drifted into darkness and we plunged into the warmer air.  Amy handed Alex and me the last two blankets, and then she walked toward the front of the plane, where she stopped to talk to Daniella.  Max already was seated and facing us.  I smiled at him and mouthed the words “Are you OK?”  In response, he returned my smile and gave me a thumbs up. 

Amy walked away from Daniella, who had dismissed her, and reached into a storage bin and removed two additional blankets.  She handed one to Max, and then sat next to him so that she also faced us.  She draped the blanket over her lap, likely because she knew that she might have to get up at any moment if the air became too rough.  And then she said something to Blackwell that I couldn’t hear.

The plane started to shake.  I looked over at Lisa, who was staring straight ahead.  I motioned toward her in an effort to catch her eye, and asked her if she was OK when she looked at me.  I knew her well enough to know that she was on edge, but being the champ that she was, she lifted her hand, in which she held Tank’s, and said, “I’m good.”

“Hang in there, lady.”

“You too.”

“Daniella,” Blackwell said.  “Sit down.  The captain has asked all of us to get in our seats and buckle our seat belts.”

But Daniella only danced and twirled, her eyes closed as she swayed to the music despite the mild turbulence, which was starting to get worse.

“God, she's a moron,” Alexa said.  “Let her stand, Mom.  If she falls on her ass, it will serve her right.”

“Daniella!” Blackwell said in a stern voice.  “Sit down.”

At that moment, lightning lit the sky, and it flooded the interior of the plane with sudden flashes of light.

“Jesus,” I said in surprise.

“Take my hand,” Alex said.  “This shouldn’t last long.”

As the plane started to shake even harder, I felt my stomach start to turn, and I willed myself not to throw up.  When another flash of lightning struck, followed by a massive clap of thunder, I looked out my window and saw that it was smeared with droplets of rain.  I could see the wing from where I sat, and it was starting to tremble under the pressure of the crossing wind currents working against it.

“We should have stayed above the storm,” I said.  “This wasn’t a good idea.”

“Here’s what the captain didn’t say.  With the heating system on the fritz, we would have froze at that height.  Because of the heating malfunction, he had no choice but to get us into warmer air.”

“But he must have known that we were heading straight into a storm.”

“Of course he knew.  But he must have felt that there was no other recourse.  I know that you’re frightened, Jennifer—I understand.  But it’s just a storm, and this plane is a beast.  It can withstand it.  I’ve been through this many times before.  Did you know that airplanes are built to resist lightning?”

“That’s not what I’ve heard.”

“Then let me clarify.  There’s a conductive path so that the lightning runs along the skin of the plane.  It’s dissipated through those antenna-like devices on the wingtips.  See them there?  They help electricity flow around the aircraft and toss it back into the atmosphere.  Sometimes, the lightning bolt is substantial enough that it will actually punch a little hole in the skin, but that's about all that it can do.  So, yes, lightning can and will strike a plane, but without any serious consequences.  We’ll be fine.”

Still, as we descended swiftly through the clouds, it became clear to me that we were moving into one mother of a storm.  Bolts of lighting were striking all around us.  Blackwell called out again for Daniella, who finally looked at her when the plane shifted violently and nearly toppled her over.  She pulled out her earbuds just as a storage bin popped open above Lisa and Tank, emptying its contents into the cabin, where they started to roll around on the floor.  “What’s happening?” she asked.

“Get in your seat,” Blackwell said.  “Buckle your seat belt.  Do it now, or I swear to God I’ll throttle you when we land.  Move it!”

But before Daniella could, our fortunes changed for the worst.

A crack of lightning ripped loudly next to my window.  I turned to it just as it struck one of the engines—setting it ablaze.  In disbelief, I watched a torrent of black smoke pour out of it, and then looked on in horror as the engine wobbled before it gave way and fell off the wing as if it were some sort of toy.  Startled, I watched the engine tumble through the air and fall out of sight just as our yellow oxygen masks dropped in front of us.

Alexa screamed.

An alarm went off.

The captain’s voice came over the speakers.

“Our engine has been struck by lightning,” he said.  This time, there was a new note in his voice—an undercurrent of shock and fear I’d never heard in it before.  “Please assume the brace position as we prepare to land.  Amy, if you are able to do so, assist those who need help.”

But even though Amy tried to move out of her seat, the centrifugal force was so great that she couldn’t move.  Helpless, she looked on at us in despair, but not in silence.  Her gaze immediately hardened on Daniella, who was holding onto the back of her sister’s seat for support as objects in the cabin—a glass, a mug, Cutter’s Kindle, lamps, pillows, and other items—started to lift up in the air and whirl dangerously around us.

“Daniella, get in your fucking seat,” she said.  “Now!”

“I can’t move,” she said.  “If I let go now, I don’t know what will happen.”

“Do something, Alex,” I said.

He turned to speak to Tank, but then the plane nosedived so sharply, our attention was instead directed toward Daniella, who suddenly flew off the floor as if she were a rag doll.  She smashed headfirst against the ceiling, where her lifeless body quickly flattened out as blood spooled from her mouth, moved up her face, and collected on the ceiling next to her head.  We were losing altitude so quickly that she didn’t drop from the ceiling.  Instead, she just remained there, pinned to it as the plane plummeted toward Earth.

“Somebody help her!” Blackwell cried.

But with all of us shaking due to the turbulence, none of us could move.  I tried to get out of my seat, but I couldn’t even lift my arms as we barreled toward whatever hell was coming our way.  I looked around the cabin as chaos started to grab hold of all of us.  Lisa started to scream.  Blackwell started to unfasten her safety belt to help her daughter when Amy and Tank—almost in unison—told her to sit still, or she would cause only more problems.

“We’re talking about my child,” she said, and then, some sort of stainless steel canister whizzed through the air and struck the side of her head with such force, it caused her head to slump forward, and I knew that she was unconscious. 

“Oh my God!” I said.

“Mom!” Alexa screamed.

“There’s an island ahead of us,” the captain said over the speakers.  “It’s small and it’s mountainous, but it has a large beach.  Hold on—we’re going to try to land the plane there.  The landing will be far from smooth, so remain in the brace position, and hold on.”

When the bottom of the plane struck something—likely the top of one of the mountains—everything that followed seemed to happen in slow motion.  Alex told me that he loved me, I told him that I loved him, and then we shared what likely would be our last kiss as the plane thrummed and rattled all around us.  He placed his hand firmly against my stomach, and I held it there with my own just as the plane inexplicably leveled—and Daniella fell to the floor.

I looked on in a daze as Cutter leaned forward, grabbed the back of her T-shirt in one hand, and yanked her body into his lap.  With a swiftness that surprised me, he quickly released his belt, and strapped each of them into his own seat.  I looked out the window.  The plane seemed to pick up speed as we approached an island that either would steal away our lives or save them, depending on how successful the pilot was at getting us on the beach.

But the next few seconds I never saw coming.

“Brace yourselves!” the captain shouted.

Before I could dip my head into my lap, the plane struck something solid, and what I witnessed was unthinkable.  The front of the cabin cracked open and separated as if it were made of tin.  And then, before I blacked out, I witnessed three things.

The front of the plane yawned open, broke off, and then tore away into the air, taking Amy, Max, and the pilots with it—and away from us. 

Above the sudden roar, I heard Amy’s screams as she and the others were tossed away from us and into the unknown.

Then, a searing blast of warm, wet air slashed across my face, and I saw the island rushing toward us through the gaping hole ahead of me.

“I’m so sorry,” Alex said. “I’m so—”

Before he could finish, we slammed onto the beach with such a crushing force, we started to slide across it straight toward the rainforest I saw ahead of us.  Sand sprayed through the hole and peppered my face with a fierceness that was agonizing.  I was aware of trees coming toward us, smashing into the cabin and breaking down the panels that protected this part of the plane.  In a flash, I watched a heavy limb fly toward me, and then it connected with my forehead and everything went dark.

*  *  *

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I DON’T KNOW HOW LONG I was unconscious before I woke, but even when my eyes did open, I wasn’t sure whether I was dead or alive.  When I became aware that I was bleeding and that my head was pounding, I knew that somehow I had made it.  But what I saw in those fleeting moments before consciousness left me again was nothing short of a holocaust.

Daniella was out of her seat and kneeling at her mother’s feet.  I heard her crying for Blackwell to wake up.  I heard her shouting for someone—anyone—to help her stop the bleeding.  I saw her trying to shake her mother awake.  And then I saw something far worse—fire blooming at the broken front end of the aircraft.

“She’s going to die!” Daniella yelled.  “Please!  Somebody help me!”

I numbly turned my head toward Alex, and saw that his chin was resting on his chest.  He had a deep gash at his throat and he was bleeding from it.  I reached out my hand and tried to shake his leg to wake him up, but my hand was oddly heavy.  I couldn’t lift it.  I had no strength. 

“Alex,” I said in a voice that was barely there.  “Wake up.  Please, wake up.”

But he didn’t.

“Don’t leave me,” I said.  “Please don’t leave me.”

But he didn’t respond.  All I could see was the blood running onto his shirt, his tie, and finally onto his pants.  Whatever had struck him had been substantial.

With a rising sense of dread, I looked around at what was left of the plane and saw that even more parts of it were on fire.  Smoke was billowing just outside the broken front end of the cabin.  If the plane itself didn’t blow up, with one mere shift of the wind, the smoke would fill the interior of the plane and those of us who weren’t already dead would be. 

Cutter was in a heap on the floor, his lifeless body crumpled in a position that made no sense to me.  Alexa looked as if she’d been impaled by a tree limb, though I couldn’t be sure—her back was to me, and there was a tree limb that had punctured straight through the side of her seat. 

I turned my head to the side, and saw that Lisa and Tank were either dead or unconscious.  Tank was slumped facedown in Lisa’s lap, unmoving in ways that didn’t make sense to me.  Tank was among the strongest and most vital men I knew.  Seeing him so vulnerable was jarring.  Wasn’t it Tank who should have been on his feet right now?  Wasn’t it Tank who should have been giving us orders to wake the hell up and get the hell out of here while we still could? 

When I looked over at Lisa, my best friend since youth, I saw that her hand was on top of Tank’s head, but that her own head was somehow off.  It was at an odd angle that seemed weirdly twisted to me. 

Broken to me. 

I noticed that her eyes were open and staring at the ceiling, and that’s when my stomach began to cramp.  I felt a sharp stab in my gut, and knew.  Knew.  The impact had been too strong.  I was about to lose my child.

“My baby,” I said aloud.  “Please not my baby.”

But when another cramp came, this one was so painful, it all became too much.  When the darkness overcame me again, this time there was a light at the other end of it that was pure, serene, and shimmering.  Despite Daniella’s cries for someone to help her mother, the light welcomed me into it.

“Why won’t you help us?” I asked it.  “Why won’t you help my friends?  My child?”

In what seemed like a response to my questions, the light shone brighter.  It became more inviting to me, more calming to me, and when a second explosion rocked the left-side of the aircraft so hard that it caused me to double over in pain, without thinking, I chose the light—and I moved straight into it.

#  #  #

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