Lance nodded.
“I’ll be right back.” And then the firefighter walked out the door back onto the lift.
Tom wondered where they could put him to make him comfortable. There was no way he could just sit down and laying him somewhere would be tricky.
It was an economy airline. A 737 ninth generation if Tom was correct. No first class, thirty rows, three seats on each side of the aisle.
The plane wasn’t full. The best place would be that first row right by the exit. There was extra leg room, and they could lift the seat dividers to create a makeshift bed.
But there were people in the seat.
Leaving Owen to tend to Lance, Tom inched his way to the flight attendants, Marina and Trevor who were on hand when they boarded with Lance.
“Can you get the folks in the first row, maybe moved somewhere so we can put Lance in that row?” Tom asked.
Trevor replied, “I’ll go handle that. How’s Lance?”
“Hard to say.” Tom face Marina. “Could you see if there are any medical personnel onboard?”
“I’ll make that announcement,” she said.
The captain stepped out. “How is he?”
“In pain. We think he broke his femur,” Tom replied. “He’s in some incredible pain. There is pain stuff in the medical kit, but none of us know much about what to do.”
They both paused when Marian made the request of any passengers with medical experience.
“Does this effect you in the cockpit?” Tom asked.
“I can handle it. Just worried about how many times we have to land, fuel and fly. According to Gene we could be doing that for days. I really hate the thought of asking if there are any pilots on board. Then again, everyone knows Lance is down.”
“Not sure it if will help,” Tom said. “My son, Gabe, the one fueling the plane has had his license since he was eighteen.”
“He got his PPL?” the pilot asked.
“He does.”
“What about his instrument rating?”
“I know he was working on that a few years back before his license was suspended,” Tom said. “Not for anything stupid flying. The kid took that serious. Unfortunately, on the ground it was a different story. He got a DUI.”
The pilot nodded knowingly. “I get that. And yes, that will help. I’ll talk to him once he’s in and settled and we’re in the air.”
“Good.” Tom looked behind him, he saw the first row was clear. “I’m going to go get Lance situated.”
“You do that. I’m going to get us ready to take off.”
Tom passed Marina on his way back to the main cabin. “Anyone?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Trevor is walking through the cabin asking people, in case they didn’t hear or don’t want to come forward.”
“Sounds good.” Tom nodded. “Do you have a blanket or pillow?”
“I’ll find something.”
“Thank you.” He rejoined Owen with Lance. “Let’s lift him away from this door and to the seat. Injured side out, so whoever examines him can get to him.”
“Sounds good.”
“Hey, Lance,” Tom said. “We’re lifting you now, buddy. We’re gonna lift you straight up. Put all your weight on us.”
“Alright, I’m ready,” Lance replied.
Owen took one side, Tom on the other. Then braced under his arms and lifted him straight, trying not to touch the leg.
Lance was restrained in his painful cries as they carried him to the first row.
“I haven’t seen anyone approach,” Owen said.
“What do you mean?” asked Tom, as he assisted Lance to lay down as best as he could.
“No medical personnel,” Owen said.
“The flight attendant said no one responded.”
“How is that possible?” Owen asked. “An entire plane? I mean, we have a refueling tech, but not a medical person?”
“Maybe they’ll find someone.” Tom resumed his focus to Lance. “Are you okay?”
“No. But … what can I do?”
“Hang tight,” Tom told him. “At the very least, the fireman will be back. They all have some medical training.”
“Good news,” Trevor said when he approached. “I found someone. The only person onboard that said they had medical knowledge. She was reluctant.”
Tom raised his head to see Delaney walking to the front. “You?”
She nodded “Me.”
“Are you a nurse?” Owen asked. “Doctor?”
“No.” Delaney shook her head. “I have medical knowledge. I know the body.”
“Are you a nurses’ aid?” Owen questioned. “Physician’s assistant?”
“No.”
“Physical therapist? Anesthesiologist …?”
“Owen,” Tom warned.
“Candy striper?”
“Owen,” Tom snapped. “Let her answer.”
“I’m a morgue technician,” Delaney told him.
“A … morgue technician?” Owen asked, then shrieked some. “I don’t really know exactly what a morgue technician does, but I’m pretty sure that’s on the wrong side of the spectrum from what we need. How is that even medical?”
“Well it is,” Delaney said. “Look I didn’t raise my hand all enthusiastically. He asked, I told him what I was.”
“She has to know bodies well,” Trevor said. “And how they work.”
“I do,” Delaney said. “I’m not a medical examiner, but I am their tech. I assist with autopsies, prep the bodies. Preliminary exams, open them up …”
“Okay. Stop.” Owen held up his hand. “I get it.”
“So you know how it works,” Tom said. “You probably know what to do.”
“No, I’d be guessing,” Delaney answered. “But … I know what not to do.”
“That’s better than nothing,” Tom said. “The medical kit is by the door. I’ll show you.” He led Delaney to the door, leaving Owen to Lance.
Sure, Delaney wasn’t the dream choice to help in the medical crisis, but Tom would put his faith in her to help the injured man, because right then, she was the only choice.
<><><><>
Gary was on it. He watched the timer on Gabe’s phone, held the radio, and watched to make sure Gabe did everything he was supposed to for safe fueling. Not that the experienced young man wouldn’t, it was just a stressful situation and even the most experienced could make a mistake.
“How are we looking?” Gabe asked.
“Three minutes.”
Gabe nodded. “It won’t finish fueling, but I need time to rewind the lines, disconnect the ground wires and secure the caps.”
“Do you need to sump the tank?”
“Not on a plane this size, it’s like every three days,” he said. “We’ll do it next time, if we have more time. Worse comes to worst, we can just drop and run.”
Gary shook his head. “No, we don’t know if we have to come back here to fuel up again. I’d have it ready as best as we can. Short it a few gallons to save time for if we land again.” Gary lifted the radio. “Hey, Captain Jeff?”
“I read you,” Jeff, the pilot replied.
“Might want to prep the cabin.”
“Roger that.”
Gary lowered the radio and raised the phone again to check the timer. “Hey, who is Gene and why is he sending you a text to get out of here now?”
“Fuck,” Gabe blurted out. “He’s the geologist. Son of a bitch.” He hurriedly, jumped from the ladder, ran to the fuel pump and shut down the flow. “If he’s saying go, we go.”
Gary again lifted the radio, but before he could call out, the captain did.
“Just got word, we have to roll,” Jeff said. “What’s the situation?”
“We got the same,” said Gary. “Packing it up. Have someone at the door to shut it. You may want to alert the passengers that you might have to drop the masks.”
“Roger that. We have to move. No time to waste.”
Gabe glanced
at Gary as he rushed back to the wing. “Good thinking.”
“I know how fast people can drop. You alright?”
“I got this. Get your gear ready, we may need it.” Gabe secured the gap and started rewinding the lines.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. The alarm sounded off.
Then came the tone of the text.
Lifted his eyes. “Shit. Gabe. Drop the line. Disconnect the ground wire. He says any second.”
“Get to the lift.”
“I’ll wait.”
“No, go, I’m good. You have a harder climb than me.’
Gabe was right and Gary knew it. He hurried to the other side of the plane. There wasn’t time to lower the lift and raise it. He was bogged down with equipment. Two SBAs, a bag with cannisters of oxygen for them and other things, not to mention he was still wearing the heavy clothing.
He shouldered the equipment and climbed up the side of the lift. It wasn’t as easy as he thought, his balance was off and he kept tipping back.
By the time he reached the top, he saw Gabe climbing.
Gary tossed his gear through the open plane door, causing the male flight attendant to jump back then he went to the edge of the lift, crouched down and held out his hand to Gabe to help him hurry over the top;
The engines of the aircraft fired up as Gabe rolled onto the level portion of the lift. Both men raced to and through the door. The male flight attendant was quick to close and secure it.
“Get seated, buckle up,” the attendant said as the plane jolted in a quick move forward.
The pilot wasted no time.
Gary reached down for his SBA and sat in the jump seat, pushing his gear aside with his feet. He watched Gabe get ready to go in the main cabin, when the pilot called out from the open cockpit door.
“Gabe, I can use you up here.”
Gabe spun back around and ran to the cockpit.
Gary looked down at his SBA and prepared it, because something told him he was going to need it.
Gabe didn’t know what he could do or what Jeff expected. He didn’t have experience flying such a large plane. He doubted it was moral support.
The plane bolted from the apron to the runaway faster than it should have.
The body of the craft swayed from the high spend.
It was a good thing.
By the time Gabe sat and fastened his belt, the plane shook once violently as if it was turbulence, before Gabe felt the vibration and the rumbling.
“That’s not the plane,” Gabe said.
“No, it’s not.”
Immediately, Gabe’s heart started racing, beating uncontrollably out of his chest as they hit the runway.
Screams erupted from the back of the plane, horrid screams of fear and panic.
Through the corner of his eye, Gabe saw Jeff turn his head.
“Jesus Christ,” Jeff said.
Gabe looked, they were moving so fast it was a blur, but it was clear enough to see the huge eruption of earth shoot straight into the sky, it was close. Too close.
Thirty-five seconds. That was all it would take to hit the speed needed to take off.
It wasn’t a lot of time, but in reality it was just about a third of the time it took people to die from the lack of oxygen and replacement of methane in the air.
The methane eruption occurred.
The countdown was on.
Gary’s voice carried to them as he shouted over the radio. “Drop the masks now!”
Gabe looked down to the radio. The oxygen would leave soon and do so fast. After taking a deep breath and holding it, his eyes quickly scanned the controls of the flight deck. He spotted the red lever just below the word ‘Oxy’. Without hesitation, he snapped the thin safety wire and flipped the switch from manual to ‘on’ as he almost simultaneously reached to his right and released the pilot oxygen mask from its compartment. He lifted it over his head, squeezing the red button under his chin with his thumb and forefinger. Like a science fiction apparatus or Marty McFly’s futuristic shoes in Back to the future, the mask formed around his head.
The oxygen flowed and he exhaled.
Debris and dirt rained down on the aircraft, hitting against the windshield. Sounds of pattering, like hail fell on the metal tube plane as Jeff pulled back on the controls and lifted the aircraft from the ground to the sky.
The timing was bad.
Jeff had to take off right at the same time, all oxygen began to deplete from the aircraft. It was at that moment, Gabe realized, the pilot had done the same thing as him. He held his breath to complete his task. He watched Jeff, nervously and quickly retrieve the pilot oxygen mask. The second Jeff placed it on, he breathed heavily.
Jeff pressed the communication button. “We have about six minutes until we are high enough to recirculate safe air. Good job on dropping the masks.”
Gabe was trying to catch his bearings. His adrenaline raced along with his heart and all he could do was nod and think about the masks in the main cabin.
How many people actually listened and paid attention to instructions that flight attendants gave at the beginning of every flight.
Passengers were usually chatting, excited about their trip, looking at the masks instructions as something so routine and a rarity that they would be needed.
That worried Gabe.
He may have deployed them in enough time, but that didn’t mean people used them correctly or even at all.
With the time frame so small to have breathable air, Gabe knew there were going to be passengers, because of ignorance, who missed the window of opportunity to stay alive.
ELEVEN – NEVER ENDING
Gainesville, Fl
By the time the plane touched down in Gainesville, Susan already had been in contact with the University to gather all that they could information wise, in hopes to know not only why Gainesville was spared, but were they in any immediate danger.
The university was known as one of the best in the country, run by Doctor Alexander Armenov, to Susan’s knowledge, a brilliant man. That was how they knew Gainesville was spared, but they had little data regarding other areas. She hoped Armenov would have that information.
Reston started the conversation Gainesville, reaching out to them and connecting them with Susan on her flight.
Her plane was one of seventeen that landed in Gainesville since the onset of the geological extinction event.
When the passengers finally disembarked, there were county officials and the red cross there to help get them acclimated and a place to stay.
It was a traumatic event, and most of the volunteers and counselors weren’t aware that Susan, the director of the USGS not only was on that flight, but she was advising the passengers of all that was happening.
They were one of the few flights that knew what was going on.
The passengers were aware and had three hours to calm down before landing.
Surprising Susan when she stepped from the plane was the balding, gray-haired gentleman, waiting anxiously to meet her.
He introduced himself as Dr. Armenov and had a car waiting.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he said. “I wanted us to get right to work. We have been working on this since we received word yesterday and have some fascinating data to share.”
“Absolutely,” she replied. “I’d like to check in with Reston and my family.”
“We can set you up with the video conference call if you’d like, that’s how we have been speaking to Dexter in the chamber.”
“I appreciate it. From your perspective, how are their levels?”
“Well, good and bad,” he said. Another hour, they should be clear, but like everywhere else that was hit, it will only be a matter of time before they have to lock down again.”
“They won’t have enough air in their tanks to keep doing it over and over.”
“I have a plan for that. We can discuss it at my lab. I have a great think tank happening here.”
“That’s great to know,
” Susan said.
Like Armenov, Susan was anxious to get started and get to work. She needed to know what he learned and what they knew. Even though she was informed by Gene and the Reston lab, she needed to see the data herself.
She knew, even without seeing readouts, it was going to get worse again, what she wanted to do was look beyond the bad, the upcoming events and triggers. For the sake of her family and everyone who had survived, Susan would look for the silver lining, signs that it would get better eventually. If … that would ever happen.
<><><><>
Flight 3430
Gary knew and was ready. He knew the chances were slim that every single passenger would have the oxygen masks on correctly. They’d either fail to put it on and secure it or they’d have it only covering their mouths, which was common when the masks dropped in emergency situation.
Memories of an experience ten years earlier flashed in his mind. A flight from Salt Lake to Los Angeles, the cabin lost pressure, the masks deployed and thirty percent of the passengers passed out from not using the masks correctly.
Not that he was an expert, but from what Gary saw in Kearns when the eruption occurred, it was about two minutes until everyone died.
Two minutes.
Not a lot of time, but enough to try.
Thirty rows.
Not all of them full.
Gabe had told him during the fueling there were one hundred and fifty passengers.
He had his SBA ready when he called out to the captain to drop the masks, then Gary immediately put on his, undid his belt and stood.
At that point, the ground had already rumbled, screams had erupted over the close explosion.
The countdown was truly on.
It was difficult walking while the plane barreled down the runway. He focused on his balance, ignoring the waves of the flight attendants telling him to sit down.
Flight 3430 Page 7
