“What is it?”
Owen pointed to the television playing near a lounge. While it was hard to hear what was said, it was clear what it was about.
A woman reporter stood with a mask on and a barricade was behind her.
The caption read, ‘no news yet on Hardin.’
“That is some scary shit,” Owen said, “They know nothing. A couple sites are saying everyone is dead.”
“No. No.” Tom shook his head. “Maybe the animals.”
“What?”
“That’s where Uncle Gene is,” Tom said. “He went there because some cow died.”
“Maybe the cow died as well as the people.”
“Now that’s not Gene’s specialty. They wouldn’t call him for dead cows or people.”
“Have you talked to him?” Owen asked.
“Not since yesterday when he was called to go there.”
“So you don’t know for sure that’s where he’s at?” Owen asked.
“No, but it’s Montana. How much happens in Montana? But you know what? Once we get seated, I’ll shoot him a text,” Tom said. “I’m sure everything is fine.”
<><><><>
Naval Operations Support Center – Billings, MT
Gene didn’t intend to fall asleep.
It just happened.
One day he woke up and life was normal, by the end of the day he found himself in a makeshift geology lab, using the navy’s computers and equipment to calculate the readings they were getting. The others on duty had long since turned in for the night, leaving Gene alone in a high-tech room.
Some monitors had computer outline images, blinked numeric readouts of seismic activity and methane level readings from across the globe.
Other monitors had live feeds from ships and another from the space station.
For a while it was overwhelming, watching the numbers change.
But things slowed down, Gene focused on the one computer that he had dedicated to the area near him. If things were going to go bad again, Gene needed to be ready.
Nothing happened, nothing changed locally. Gene got bored, propped his head against his hand and just passed out.
The chime sound broke the dead silence causing Gene to jolt awake thinking it was some sort of computer alert.
It was his phone and he slid it closer to see that a text had arrived from Tom.
‘Getting ready to take off. Everything good?’
Gene quietly laughed. It wasn’t alright. He wanted nothing more than to pick up the phone, shoot a text to Tom and tell him things were pretty screwed.
There was no use though, because there was nothing Gene could do for Tom. Give him a warning maybe. Make sure he hugged his sons once more and said what he needed to say.
Everyone went into the ‘Armageddon Movie’ thinking of how it was better to keep the impending doomsday scenario quiet.
Truth was there was no way to predict when and where it was going to happen. How big or small, how many places or even if it was everywhere. None of those answers were available. Only that it was going to happen.
Every single read out, from the Siberian Tundra to the depths of the Atlantic Ocean, were off the rails.
He kept going back to the other methane theory of the Permian Extinction. How a microbe caused super production of methane to reach catastrophic proportions and erupt.
That was the only explanation for how fast things were moving. Then again, were they?
More than likely it was building for a while and just reached critical mass.
Which was where they were.
Susan wanted to leave to be with her family and Gene kept telling her to do so.
She said, “Maybe a part of me thinks this isn’t going to happen. Not in our lifetime. It took hundreds of years to get to where it is, maybe even thousands, how do we know it won’t take that much longer to go over the cusp?”
Gene agreed, but he also wanted to tell her, a methane eruption in Montana told them it was sooner not later.
He held his phone in his hand, thinking about replying to that text.
Knowing the time of the flights, Tom and his sons hadn’t boarded yet and Gene could get through.
What would he say?
‘Hey, Tom, things aren’t good. The world is gonna end any day. Have fun’?
Gene couldn’t, with a clear conscious, reply anything to Tom but the truth.
Maybe it would be best to call him.
More than likely, the chances of it happening in the next week or so were slim, he could wait until Tom finished his vacation.
When that thought hit him, that was when Gene knew what he would say.
He began to text. ‘Crazy. I’ll explain when I see you. Enjoy the trip!’
There was no reason to tell him he wasn’t coming, not yet.
Just as he hit ‘send’ Susan walked into the lab.
“I’m taking off,” she said.
“To the hotel?” Gene asked.
“Home. I’m going home. I have a flight leaving in an hour. I think it’s best. Look at the readouts, Gene.”
Gene gazed up. Many of the white blinking numbers were red. “Jesus, I’m sorry, I fell asleep.”
“It’s okay. The president has been moved to a secure location …”
“Where is secure?” Gene asked.
“Anywhere a two minute warning affords enough time for pure oxygen,” she replied. “The White House just let us know that the Kremlin informed them there was an eruption just north of Kovrov. It wiped out everyone in a twenty mile radius.”
“Oh my God. When?”
“The event happened three hours ago. Look at the levels.”
Gene’s fingers clicked on the keyboard as he looked up. “They’re dropping.”
“Like we theorized, three or four hours.”
“I need to look at this closer. See if I can predict where it will happen next.”
“If you look, it’s not going to be just one place. It will be many. I’m going to get my kids and my mom and head to the mountains. Hopefully far enough away and high enough that we’ll be safe.”
“You know, oxygen will save you.”
Susan nodded. “I do. I’ll get what I can when I land. You have what you need?”
Gene nodded.
“You’ll have warning. Text or call me if you see anything happening near Reston.”
“I will.”
“Good luck.”
And then just like that … Susan left.
Gene lifted his eyes to the monitors. There were so many, too many to watch and make timely or accurate predictions. He would need to call in help, get those who were in the lab, including the major, back to work to help.
The eruptions were a fact and were happening.
The best case scenario now would be for enough singular eruptions to occur that enough pressure would be released and the threat would pass.
If it was building to the point where it happened nearly all at once, that would be nothing short of global extinction.
Gene prayed that wouldn’t be the case. But as he looked at the readouts, he feared a global event was the pending outcome.
FIVE – MESSAGE
Flight 3430 – En Route to Las Vegas
Not that Delaney Russo was visually judgmental, but she was guilty of visually judging the three men the moment she saw them at the gate.
The father and sons bickered some at the gate, throwing out some macho vibe.
She had no idea why the second she saw them, they just set her off.
It irritated her instantly and it didn’t make sense to her.
Delaney was a people person.
They visually were all a contrast to each other. A pompous looking father with his high end golf shirt and pressed jeans, trying to look dapper with his perfect hair and clean shaven face. He screamed misogynist from the second she saw him. One son looked like a stoner with his eighties hair and band tee shirt, the other arrived late at the gate and looked like a punk, possibly even
one of those radicals the way his hair was in a buzz cut.
When they stopped fighting, they laughed loudly.
Admittedly, Delaney was a bit moody. She had no idea her connecting flight in Denver from Cleveland would have a layover of four hours.
She was ready to kill her sister over it, then again, her sister did pay for the flight.
But her sister was rich, which didn’t explain her choice in airlines.
When Delaney’s sister Kim called her about flying her out for the bachelorette party in Vegas, Delaney expected some sort of first-class experience. After all, Kim and the other bridesmaids were taking a limo from Los Angeles.
Nevertheless, Delaney had a free trip to Vegas, which normally she wouldn’t be able to afford. Every dime she made, along with her husband’s income went to paying bills. They had three kids, with the oldest being thirteen, and kids were expensive.
She was fine when she got on the flight from Cleveland, but after two hours in the Denver airport, her mood spiraled.
She had to wait to get a spot at the charging station and felt chained there once she did.
As soon as her mood began to improve, she saw the father and son group bully their way to the gate, that set her off again.
Hearing how loud they were annoyed her.
She just wanted to get on the plane. Her boarding number was ahead of them, and she settled into her seat.
Delaney knew the short flight was going to seem long when they sat right behind her.
Swell.
The thug brother kept drinking, the father kept clearing his throat, the only one tolerable was the stoner. He just stared out the window.
She really didn’t know what it was exactly, or why the trio of men set her off, but she knew one thing, she would be glad to get off the plane and away from them.
<><><><>
The clacking of the ice against the side of the plastic cup caught Tom’s attention. He turned his head to the left, where his son, Gabe, like Tom, sat in the aisle seat in the row next to him. They were separated by a mere eighteen inches or however wide the tiny aisle was.
Elbow on the arm rest, Gabe shook his glass that was empty of all but the ice and when he got the attention of the flight attendant, he lifted a finger as a sign to say, ‘One more please’ and smiled.
The flight attendant nodded and took his cup.
“What?” Gabe asked.
“Nothing.” Tom shrugged. “Just you know, we’ll be landing soon.”
“I can drink it when we land,” said Gabe. “They’re still serving.”
“Okay.”
“Dad, it’s vacation. I’m good.”
“Yes, I know.” Tom cleared his throat and returned to that darned bargain tablet he picked up for the trip. He glanced at Owen who sat staring out the window.
“Do you mind?” he heard a woman say.
“Sorry?” Gabe replied.
Tom glanced over.
“Your foot,” the women in the seat in front of Gabe said. “Can you pull it back. It’s in my space.”
Tom didn’t know what the woman was talking about. Sure, Gabe’s shoe was slightly in the aisle and maybe near the rear of her seat, but it wasn’t in her space.
“What?” Gabe laughed. “My foot is nowhere near you.”
“Your foot is in my space,” she said. “What if I get up and trip?”
“Gabe, move your foot back,” Tom told him.
Gabe ignored him. “Well, you have strands of hair that are flying in my space. What if I inhale and choke?”
“Gabe,” Tom warned.
“Fine.” Gabe moved his foot back.
The flight attendant returned with the drink for Gabe and the credit card reader.
Gabe handed her his card and took the beverage.
When the flight attendant walked away, the woman mumbled. “Have another drink, why don’t you.”
“I will,” Gabe sipped his beverage.
Very calmly, Tom said, “Now, was that necessary?”
“What?” Gabe asked.
“Not you, her. Ma’am,” Tom called her softly. “Ma’am.”
Gabe waved out his hand. “Ignore her dad, she’s being ridiculous.”
The woman spun around. “Excuse me?”
Gabe just smiled.
Tom turned to Owen when he heard him laugh. “You think it’s funny?”
“I do. You never let people bother you.”
“She was being mean,” Tom said,
“People get that way on planes. Ignore her, like Gabe said. He can handle her. He’ll be obnoxiously polite and annoying enough to drive her nuts. Fortunately, we don’t have that much longer.”
“You’re right.” Tom glanced at Gabe. “Maybe we should have him move to this seat.” He tapped the empty middle seat.
“Dad, no. I like my space. Leave him. He’s good. You’re just waiting for trouble with him.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Old worry, habits die hard,” Tom said.
It wasn’t just a habit for Tom, it had become a way of life. Always, ‘what sort of trouble will Gabe get into next?’, was part of his daily routine. Eventually, if Gabe stayed the course, Tom would stop his obsessiveness. He was concerned about how long his ‘drug free and trouble free’ stage would last, after all, Gabe was still drinking. He never really hit that rock bottom most people hit in order to change.
What caused the change was the loss of something he loved to do.
Fly.
It wasn’t much, it wasn’t often, but he obtained his license to fly as a private pilot and was working on his commercial license when it all went south.
Their neighbor owned a small plane and started teaching Gabe when he was sixteen. What Gabe didn’t know was when he was pulled over for a DUI, it also had to be reported to the FAA. It wasn’t the DUI that cost him his pilot’s license, it was driving a car under a suspended driver’s license.
It was his second suspension in three years, and even though it was a driver’s license, under federal law it resulted in a six month suspension of his privilege to pilot an aircraft.
It pissed Gabe off to the point he was tired of being the bad boy and started focusing on doing things better.
He still dated Shawna the stripper though.
Not that he saw her dance, Tom didn’t. She just didn’t strike him as a good one or, in Tom’s opinion, a ‘desirable’ one. Shawna looked exactly like what she was. Someone that stripped for drugs.
They were horrible for each other, they fed off each other’s addictions, and neither was ever going to walk the straight and narrow until they ended their relationship.
About the only bright spot was when Tom’s ex-wife Julie and her fiancé thought they’d be supportive, and totally in denial that Gabe had a problem, invited Gabe and Shawn to his fancy country club.
Not only did the duo show up dressed less than ‘country club’ acceptable, they were both jacked up on cocaine.
Julie was humiliated and her fiancé lost his membership. After that, she distanced herself from it all. Instead of helping Tom try to get Gabe help, she was counterproductive. Like the time Gabe was in some sort of drug rage and Tom was able to get him admitted for psychiatric help … Julie signed him out.
She refused to believe, or show she believed, Gabe had a problem. She likened it to a phase he would get through, like when Gabe wanted to play the violin.
Four months.
It had been four months since there was trouble. That was a start.
Ding.
Tom lifted his eyes to the lights above his head.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the pilot spoke calmly in a tone that screamed he was about to say something he had said a million times. “At this time the seatbelt sign is on. We are making our approach to McLaren International and we will be touching down in Las Vegas in fifteen minutes. Please make sure all seats and trays are back in their upright position and all devices put away at this time. Thank you for Flying Blue Horizon Air.”
<
br /> “Thank God,” Tom said with an exhale.
Owen laughed, “Dad, it wasn’t that long of a flight.”
“Oh, I know. I felt compelled to play with this thing …” he lifted the tablet. “Even signed up for Wi-Fi, but … I can’t figure it out.”
“I’ll help you so you have it on the flight home.”
“Sounds good.” Tom pulled the small case from the pocket in the seat in front of him, placed the tablet in the case and returned it to the pouch where he also kept his cell phone.
“Never got to eat those snacks,” Owen said. “Regret spending thirty bucks?”
“Nah, cause we’ll eat them in the hotel room.” Tom fastened his seat belt tighter, when he felt the plane lower in altitude.
He felt like a T-Rex the way his arms were squished tightly to his body as he gripped the arm rest of the chairs.
He knew the stats.
Crashes were more likely to occur during take-off and landing.
Tom was ready.
He relaxed some, wishing he would have thought ahead and gotten a drink like Gabe, his mouth was dry.
Suddenly he felt his stomach drop, the same way it did on a roller coaster. The plane made some sort of change. They were slanted downward and suddenly they weren’t.
They moved fast.
Gabe, who had been relaxing sat up hurriedly. “What the hell?”
“What’s going on?” Tom asked.
The plane vibrated as it moved quickly. Flight attendants stopped collecting trash and immediately raced for the aisle.
One attendant, rushed forward, calmly stating as she passed passengers. “Seatbelts, please. Seatbelts.”
“We’re headed back up,” Gabe replied. “Fast too. Something is wrong. Something is really wrong.”
“What? What does that mean?”
“Jesus.” Gabe turned to look out the window. “We’re supposed to land.”
Thinking maybe his son, knowledgeable or not, was overreacting, Tom turned to check out if he could see anything out the window or if Owen did.
“Oh my God,” Owen said in slight shock, then turned from the window and Tom saw his face.
Horror.
Shear and utter horror were Owen’s expression, as the color drained from his face.
Flight 3430 Page 3
