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Kennedy planted her fingers against the small dent in Willow’s neck. Please let there be a pulse. Please let there be a pulse.
There it was. Slow and weak, but at least Willow was still alive. Kennedy leaned down, throwing off her own necklace after the purifier hit Willow in the face again. “You’re going to be ok.” Tears streamed down her cheeks and dripped onto Willow’s body as the plane lurched, flinging Kennedy to one side and then the other. The howl of wind roared through her ears. The cabin floor jostled violently.
From the window Kennedy made out the vague flashing lights of an ambulance.
“We’ve landed!”
“Out of my way!”
“Watch it!”
Shouting from the front of the plane. Cries of triumph.
Kennedy held onto Willow. In a few minutes, this would all be over.
“Hang on,” she pleaded.
“Step aside!”
“Let the paramedics on board.”
Kennedy wrapped her arms around Willow and cradled her head in her lap. “Just hang on.” It was silly of her, really. Willow couldn’t hear a thing, could she?
God, you promised me a second chance. What if this was it? What if Willow was slipping into a coma, a coma she would never wake from? Hadn’t Kennedy promised God to share the gospel with her roommate if he gave her one more opportunity?
“Over here!” someone yelled.
“Help!”
“Don’t block the exits.”
Flames now leapt and roared from the back of the aircraft. The heat stung her back like a scalding acid. She wouldn’t leave Willow. Some might say she was being heroic, but in truth she didn’t think she possessed the energy to move. She was too tired to feel scared. The firefighters would save the two of them, or they wouldn’t. Either way, time was running out.
“If there’s anything you need to know right now,” she whispered into her friend’s ear, “it’s how much God loves you.”
“We’ve got the exits clear.”
“I see someone there toward the back.”
Kennedy wasn’t ready to leave. There was more she was supposed to say. About sin and repentance, about Jesus’ death and resurrection. Why was her brain so fuzzy?
“We’re here. You’re going to be ok.”
Strong hands pried her to her feet.
“No!” She tried to kick but her legs collapsed beneath her. “No!” She thought she was screaming, but she couldn’t hear herself.
“We’ll send someone back to get your friend. But you’ve got to come with me now.”
No. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. She stretched her neck to look behind her, screaming at the flames that danced and flickered just a few feet away from Willow’s body. No, this wasn’t what was supposed to happen.
“Save her, not me.” Kennedy was sobbing, but she didn’t have the breath to make herself heard. Didn’t have the energy to fight anymore. The faceless form of her anonymous rescuer held her in a steady, iron grasp as strong as the chains that clung to Ebenezer Scrooge’s macabre partner.
“I have to go back,” she whispered softly before her vision deserted her and everything fell to black, infinite darkness.