by Janie Crouch
The drive to the airstrip didn’t take long. It still drizzled outside, but there wasn’t any thunder and lightning. Shelby waited in Dylan’s truck, parked in the hangar behind his plane, as he ran through his preflight checklist.
This was a pretty nice setup he had here. The airstrip was on his land, and it was only his plane that took off or landed, so Air Traffic Control wasn’t a problem. The only problem, Shelby was sure, had been getting an area flat enough and safe enough for a plane to take off around here, surrounded by the Blue Ridge Mountains. But Dylan had done it.
She watched him move around his plane with ease, obviously familiar with what he was doing. When his checklist was complete he made his way back over to Shelby and the truck.
“Ready?”
“Yeah.”
Dylan helped Shelby out of the truck then grabbed a backpack from the back. Shelby picked up her own small bag of items and walked with him over to the plane. She looked up at the sky. Even through the darkened night, she could still see the clouds, not as thick and threatening as they were before, but still there.
“We’re okay with the weather?”
Dylan nodded. “I studied it through some weather sites and FAA reports. We don’t have a whole lot of time, but we have enough.”
Dylan helped Shelby up the stairs of the plane, entering behind her. She shifted to the side so he could pull up the stairs and close the door, securing then double checking it.
“Trust me,” he told her, “I wouldn’t be taking us up if it wasn’t safe.”
Dylan’s plane was different than Shelby expected. Nicer. As he’d told her, it could fit up to eight people, with two sets of leather seats facing each other across tables and another single row of seats behind them. The setup was a great way to do business or just talk with someone while traveling to a destination.
Shelby turned to Dylan. “Somehow I thought you did more cargo trips than passengers. But you’re certainly set up for people.”
Dylan walked up to the cockpit. “It’s about fifty/fifty right now. Passengers generally pay more, but I prefer cargo if I have the option.”
“Oh, yeah? Why is that?”
Dylan gave her a half grin. “Cargo doesn’t talk.”
Shelby returned his smile. Not wanting groups of talking people? That she understood. “Should I stay back here or come up there with you?”
“Either way. The seats recline, so if you want to get some rest, I understand.”
Did he want to be alone in the cockpit? Shelby would love to come up there, to see how a plane such as this one really worked, but she didn’t want to make a nuisance of herself.
“I’m not going to sleep, but I can stay back here if you’d rather be alone.”
Dylan tilted his head a little to the side as if he was weighing the pros and cons. Shelby didn’t know whether she should be offended or not.
“Why don’t you come up with me? I’m sure that will be more interesting.” Dylan turned and walked into the cockpit.
Yeah, Shelby was sure that would be more interesting, too. She followed him.
Dylan handed Shelby a pair of headphones. “These make it easier to talk without having to yell.”
Shelby nodded and sat down in the seat next to him. She pulled the headset over her head and adjusted the mic just slightly. Dylan showed her how to buckle in. A harness belt was much different than the ordinary lap belt on most airplanes.
Dylan finished his cockpit preflight checklist quickly, something he’d obviously done hundreds of times. But never did he seem to be rushing. Shelby couldn’t help watching him. He was clearly sure of himself and what he was doing. He didn’t hesitate, but moved efficiently through the list. Sure, confident.
It was downright sexy.
Shelby decided she better stop staring at him and looked around the cockpit instead. She’d never been in this part of an airplane before. It was exciting.
“Ready?” Dylan asked her. She could hear him without any problem in the headphones.
“Yep. Do I need to do anything?”
“Yes. When I give the signal, stick your arms out the window and flap them up and down really hard. It helps us to get airborne.”
Shelby looked over at him with a grin on her face. Mr. Serious just made a joke. Shelby hadn’t been sure he had it in him.
“You just be sure not to hit all the trees around here.”
Dylan chuckled slightly. “Actually, the trees at the end of the runway are a concern. Not for us since we’re so light today, but with a full load I do have to be aware of them.”
Great. She hadn’t been nervous, but she was a little now. Shelby hoped Dylan was as adept at flying as he had been prepping the airplane. She sat back and held on to the edges of the seat belts that covered both her shoulders.
The plane built up speed a few moments later and soon they were airborne.
Chapter Eight
Dylan saw Shelby finally release her death grip on the seat belt. He knew that the first time in a cockpit could be a little unnerving to a novice, but now that they were in the air, she seemed to be relaxing a bit.
Dylan still wasn’t sure why he had invited her up here with him. Like his house, he considered his Cessna’s cockpit to be his own personal space, not to be shared lightly. And yet he’d invited a quirky little redhead into both the places most sacred to him.
Through the lighting of the panels he could see her looking around with wonder in those big green eyes. The sun was just beginning to come up, giving them a little bit more natural visibility.
He wasn’t likely to forget the picture she made sitting in the cockpit in the early morning light.
Which was the exact reason why he probably shouldn’t have invited her up here.
Dylan looked down at the control panel and the weather printout he had. They’d have to go out of their way to avoid the storm, but that couldn’t be helped. There was no way they were flying through it; that was a risk no good pilot was willing to take if he had any other option.
Dylan waited for questions from Shelby about flying and which buttons and controls did what. Curiosity was only natural from someone in the cockpit for the first time. But although Shelby looked around constantly, she didn’t ask any questions. Maybe she just wasn’t curious about what he did as a pilot.
For the life of him, Dylan could not figure out why that bothered him.
“No questions?” he asked, growing even more irritated when he found he couldn’t keep his irritation out of his voice.
Shelby’s look was a little wary. “Actually, lots. But you said ‘cargo doesn’t talk,’ so I figured you preferred quiet. I totally understand.”
And just like that, Dylan felt like a total jerk again. She was just doing what he had implied he wanted and he had proceeded to get irritated at her for it.
What the hell was wrong with him? Shelby Keelan twisted him in knots.
“Ask away,” he told her. “I promise not to bite.”
She smiled just a tiny bit at that. “Honestly, Dylan, you don’t have to entertain me. I know what it’s like to just want to sit quietly with your own thoughts.”
“Well, I appreciate that, but I honestly don’t mind your questions.”
The sun was beginning to make its way a little bit more over the horizon. They were flying east and soon it would be bright in their eyes. Dylan reached into his pocket and pulled out his sunglasses and put them on.
“Aviators?” Shelby asked with one eyebrow raised.
“They’re called that for a reason. I’ll need them a lot in just a minute. There’s an extra pair in the Velcro pocket, a little bit behind you to your right.”
“How long have you been a pilot?” Shelby asked as she maneuvered around to access the pouch with the glasses.
“Something you love?”
Dylan hadn’t really ever thought of that question. Did he love flying? “I enjoy the challenge of it, the concentration and control it takes to fly a small jet like my Cessna. I like owning my own business and being able to take the jobs I want.”
Shelby nodded. “Yeah, I like that about my job, too.”
She developed computer games. She’d talked about that last night.
“How did you get into coding games?” he asked her.
“I’m good with numbers. And at the end of the day, that’s what computer coding is—numbers.”
“So you’re good at your job?”
She shrugged. “I’m the best.”
She said it so matter-of-factly you could hardly doubt her. “Is that so? Have you done any games I would’ve heard of?”
She looked around at the plane’s gauges as she answered. Dylan was shocked to hear the names of a couple of the most popular games in the world come out of her mouth.
“You developed those games?”
“Yep.” Shelby ran her fingers over the air-speed indicator and didn’t say anything else.
“Those are really popular games.” Dylan wasn’t a gamer by any means, but even he had heard of those. They were popular because of the strong female leads, plus parents loved them because they proved games could be addictively challenging and fun without gruesome violence and gratuitous language. But teenagers adored them because of all the add-ons players could download after buying the game. New ones every couple of weeks, unlike other games where you had to wait months or longer.
“Yep.” Obviously Shelby wasn’t one to brag.
“Did you do all the downloads, too?”
She nodded this time, not saying anything at all.
“You’re like a celebrity then, aren’t you?”
“Maybe if you’re a seventeen-year-old boy with acne.”
Shelby would be a celebrity for any seventeen-year-old boy for reasons having nothing to do with gaming, but Dylan kept that thought to himself. “Everybody loved how fast those add-ons came out. Did you do them all?”
Shelby shrugged again. “Yeah.”
“How? Not sleeping at all for two years?”
“No, I’m just really quick with numbers and therefore coding. Most programmers have to write, then go back through and see if what they did works on the screen. It’s a lot of back-and-forth.” Shelby repositioned the sunglasses on her nose as the sun made its way up even brighter. “I have a photographic memory with numbers. So I only have to code things once and know exactly what the results will be.”
“And that makes you fast?”
“Really fast. And I don’t make any mistakes, so I don’t have to recheck anything like normal programmers.”
“You never make a mistake?”
“Not when it comes to numbers. I remember everything about them.”
“You’re a genius with numbers.” It wasn’t a question. Dylan already knew it was true. “That’s why you went to MIT and that’s how you met Megan.”
“Megan’s the true genius. I just happen to remember digits. But she can figure out, build, tear apart or fix just about anything having to do with computers. It’s pretty amazing.”
“Yeah, she’s helped Omega Sector out on more than one occasion.”
“Omega Sector, that’s where she works, right? And her husband, Sawyer, too.”
“Yeah, actually, all three of my siblings work there.”
Shelby nodded. “Is that where you worked when you were in law enforcement?”
Astute little thing, wasn’t she? He’d only mentioned law enforcement in passing. “Yes, I worked for Omega for a few years.”
“But you quit.”
Dylan didn’t want to get into this. He wanted to keep Fiona’s ghost down on the ground where it belonged, not bring it up here in the cockpit.
“So, you want to fly the plane for a couple of minutes?” he asked her.
Dylan’s diversion tactic worked perfectly. Shelby slid her sunglasses down on her nose and looked over at him with big eyes. “Really? Can I? Will we die?”
Dylan chuckled. “I’m pretty sure we won’t die. I still have my control column right here in front of me in case I need to take over.”
“What do I do?”
Really, at this altitude and since they were just flying straight and not changing direction or speed, she wouldn’t be doing much, but Dylan didn’t want to say anything that would cause the excitement to fade from her eyes. “You’ll just take the yoke right in front of you and hold it steady, and I’ll let go.”
Shelby reached out for the control column, the plane’s steering wheel, that was in front of her chair.
“Then, just try not to do anything to crash us,” Dylan continued. Shelby’s hands flew back away from the yoke without touching it.
“Wait, what would make us crash?” Dylan winced as she yelled it into the mouthpiece of her headphones.
“I’m just kidding, Shelby. You won’t do anything to make us crash.” He laughed. “Just keep it steady. Don’t pull back or forward quickly and we’ll be fine.”
She reached over and slapped at his arm, difficult with the harness holding her in. But then she slowly reached out and took the control column.
“I’m going to let go now, okay?”
“Okay.” Shelby nodded, but didn’t look at him. She had a tight grip on the column.
“Just relax.” Dylan let go of the control column, but kept his hands on his knees in case he needed to take back over quickly. “You’re flying the plane, Shelby.”
“I am?” Shelby glanced quickly over at his hands. “I am,” she repeated, wonder clear in her voice this time.
Dylan let her enjoy the moment of realizing she was flying an airplane. She didn’t seem in any danger of jerking the steering column.
“Why don’t you ease the yoke back toward you just a little bit?”
“That will cause us to go up, right?”
“Yep.”
“Don’t you have to check with Air Traffic Control or whomever?” Shelby sounded pretty nervous.
“Not to go up just a hundred feet. They allow a little leeway. Plus, there aren’t any planes around in the traffic pattern for miles.”
“Okay, then. What do I do?”
“Just pull the yoke back toward you, gently and slowly.”
The plane began to climb slightly as Shelby did as Dylan instructed. A surprised laugh fell out of her mouth. Dylan grinned.
“Now you’re really flying.”
Neither of them were expecting the roar and loud popping noise that came from the engine to their right, before it stuttered to silence. Dylan immediately grabbed the control column.
“Oh, no, Dylan, what did I do?” Shelby’s voice was frantic.
“That definitely wasn’t you, Shelby. That was an engine flameout.”
And there was absolutely no reason it should’ve happened at their rather benign speed and altitude.
“Are you sure?”
Dylan fought to keep the plane steady, more difficult now with only one good engine. They could still fly with just one engine, but they would need to get on the ground soon.
“I’m sure it wasn’t you, Shelby. You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise.”
Dylan needed to call the situation in to Air Traffic Control. Immediately. They needed to get on the ground.
“ATC, this is Cherokee four four six one nine en route to private UN
ICOM airfield six two four seven. We’ve experienced an engine flameout in one engine. Over.”
“Roger, Cherokee four four six one nine. You okay? Over.”
Dylan looked over at the paper sectional chart then his electronic GPS system. The closest airfield was about sixty miles. They would be able to make it. “Affirmative. Request clearance for set down at unmanned airfield five miles east of Christiansburg. Over.”
“Roger that, Cherokee four four six one nine. No traffic reported—”
The Air Traffic Control’s words were drowned out by another roar, this time from the left engine. Dylan could see the glare of the flames out of the corner of his eye for a moment before it went out.
Now they were flying with no power in either engine. Shelby’s gasp was audible in the silence that now filled the aircraft. There was no way they would make it to that airfield.
“Mayday, mayday, mayday. ATC, this is Cherokee four four six one nine. We have lost the second engine. I repeat, neither engine is responding. Over.”
“Roger, Cherokee four four six one nine.” Dylan could tell he had the controller’s full attention now. “What are your exact coordinates?
Dylan found it hard to look down for the coordinates from the GPS while trying to keep the Cessna under control. They were in essence a glider now. Dylan fought to keep the nose of the plane up.
Dylan glanced over gratefully as Shelby tilted the GPS toward her and read off the coordinates to the air traffic controller.
“Tower, we will be making an emergency landing, location yet undetermined.”
“Roger that, Cherokee four four six one nine. We’ll contact emergency services in that area.”
Dylan looked around for anywhere they could possibly land. The mountains and trees made it difficult. And there was nothing ATC could do to help him now. Dylan didn’t know where he would land, so the fire trucks wouldn’t know where to go.
