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Click.
Kennedy pried one eye half open. Had she heard right?
Click.
No louder than a retractable pen collapsing on itself. General stared at his gun in stunned rage.
Grandma Lucy opened her eyes and smiled at him sweetly. “I should have mentioned one more thing. God promised me in the book of Isaiah chapter 54 that no weapon forged against me would prevail.”
General stared stupefied.
Ray sprung out of his seat. “His gun doesn’t work!”
Three other men jumped up at the same time. Two tackled the fat lieutenant in his Hawaiian shirt from behind, sweeping his legs out from under him and letting his own body weight do the rest. Ray and someone in a dark suit confronted General head on, both working to twist the gun out of his hold. Ray finally succeeded and slid out the cartridge, tossing it up the aisle toward Kennedy. The second man doubled over when General punched him in the gut, but by then a few other passengers and the unbound air marshal had joined in the fray. Kennedy could only see a blur of colors, hear the cacophonous sounds of oofs and curses and flailing limbs. Breath whooshed back into her lungs, choppy and uncertain at first like a child just learning to toddle. Would it ever end?
She tried to focus on Ray to make sure he was ok, but she could never keep her eyes on him for long. Her brain couldn’t follow the disjointed movements of the skirmish, didn’t dare hope the passengers would succeed.
Were the cameras still rolling? Did the viewers see what was happening?
“We got them!” The male flight attendant shouted. “We have both men subdued.”
The cabin filled with air again. Relief. Release. Kennedy pried her fingers loose from her seatbelt. So it was really over. Their salvation had come in by way of a grandmother with the boldness of an advancing army and the miracle of a misfired weapon.
“You’re all dead!” General shouted as the air marshal dragged him to the back of the cabin. “Nobody’s getting off this plane alive!”
The PA system came on. “Folks, this is your captain speaking, and I just want to say thank you to everyone back there who kicked some terrorist butt.”
Nervous laughter and subdued applause began to melt away the fear that had frozen like armor around Kennedy’s psyche. She allowed herself a smile, noted the strange sensation of her facial muscles as it spread across her face.
A woman with shocking blue hair, glossy as a marble, threw herself into the seat by Kennedy and wrapped her arms around her. “We’re safe.”
“You’re all dead!” General shouted from the back of the plane.
A sob rose from Kennedy’s chest and lodged itself in her throat.
Willow shook her gently by the shoulders. “It’s ok now.”
Terror, fear, guilt, and shock took over Kennedy’s entire body. She hadn’t realized how much energy it had taken just to keep them all contained. Now they came bursting out of her core with the explosive energy of a nuclear detonation.
Willow didn’t seem surprised by the tears that coursed down Kennedy’s cheeks. She didn’t laugh at her. Didn’t tease. Just gave her another hug, whispering those beautiful words over and over again like a prayer of thanksgiving.
“We’re safe.”