Gary made his way down the aisle and did so quickly.
It was his intention to visually check each passenger and their oxygen, making sure they had it one.
If they didn’t cover their nose, and they breathed in, they were taking in methane.
The first row to the right was the downed and inured co-pilot. He lay across the seats. The woman tending to him, in Gary’s opinion, was a rock star.
She wore her mask correctly and she held his on his face. On the floor of the first row, the woman leaned over Lance, holding him down with her upper body, while her leg extended back, foot pressed to the partition wall of the plane, bracing her in position.
Gary didn’t have time to waste, he moved quickly down the aisle of the plane. Holding tight, fighting against the pull of the plane’s high speed climb.
He had already encountered three people not wearing their masks correctly and he was only on the fourth row.
Thankfully reaching out to one of them and fixing it, caused another to fix hers.
It was nerves and fear that caused people to not think rationally, to not take the proper steps.
So much time was spent stopping, reaching and fixing masks, Gary barely made it halfway through the plane in that first deadly minute.
The oxygen in those masks would last only twelve minutes. It would take half that time to get to a safe altitude and even less than that for deadly levels to be achieved in the body of that plane.
It wasn’t going to end well for a lot of people, Gary feared that.
His fears were confirmed when he reached the twenty-second row and saw a passenger had died.
He tried to put their mask on, but it was too late.
They were gone, like so many he saw die in Kearns.
And Gary knew, sadly, that passenger wasn’t going to be the only one.
<><><><>
Billings, MT
It was the same time every day, Gene got tired. His body felt old and heavy, his eyes burned and he needed the midday pick up. He wasn’t sure whether it was really physical or psychological, but the routine of leaving the office, going to the local coffee house always worked.
He did the same thing, but it wasn’t the need for coffee as much as the need to see.
His curiosity was getting the best of him.
He had been at the Naval Operations support center since the night before. In that room, breathing apparatus and oxygen on hand, when or if the methane eruption happened. A part of him believed the chances of it happening near Billings were slim, especially after Hardon was hit.
But lightning struck twice at Hardin, this time, Gene believed that opening allowed for an even larger eruption, one that spread out for a hundred miles.
They lost the probe they lowered into the hole, but one eight miles away in a field and only fifty feet deep, gave them the best readings.
When levels went high there, it was game over.
The eruption happened fourteen minutes after that level piqued. When Gene left the monitoring room at the center, the field monitor was normal.
Phones were still working, he had a signal, and if they rose, he would get a phone call.
Perhaps it wasn’t the best decision to leave that room.
He didn’t have to even step foot outside before he saw bodies.
People just fell over where they stood.
Many passing out before dying. Pools of blood around their heads from their faces banging against the ground or whatever object they hit into.
It was sad and heartbreaking.
He put the warning out, informing everyone in the building what they had to do.
But it happened so fast, people weren’t ready to just grab an oxygen mask or even have one at hand.
When the methane eruptions began to occur, when they happened here and there in the early morning hours across the globe, Gene knew it was far too big and wide to save everyone. It just wasn’t going to happen.
So they remained silent.
Something Gene would carry with him for the rest of his life.
Sure, they couldn’t save the world, but maybe if they said something, maybe they could have saved some.
There were places not hit, not effected, but Gene didn’t know where they were. Until everything settled and stopped, they wouldn’t know any true safe location.
Truth was, until the earth burped out the last of the built up gas … nowhere was safe.
The event was so massive, it was nothing like Hardin where a two square mile area was hit, each eruption site was covering hundreds of miles.
Billings was forty miles from an eruption and it killed the population as if it happened in the center of the city.
Nothing he witnessed was a shock to him.
People had died while driving their cars. Vehicles veered off the road into each other, into buildings. Bodies had been ejected onto the street, some half out of the windshield.
It was not how Gene ever pictured the world’s end to be.
In his mind, he would never live to see it. Extinction level events take millions of years to complete. But had he predicted a modernized apocalypse it wouldn’t be a methane eruption. It would have been a plague, or war. Hell, even an alien invasion was more feasible.
Something that would give the human race at least a fighting chance.
But with the current disaster, there was no fighting chance. It was all luck. You were near it or you weren’t. No amount of survival training would prepare the masses for the fate they endured.
As Gene meandered the streets of Billings, he wondered how and if the world would ever get back on its feet.
He just couldn’t see that happening.
TWELVE – OVER THE TOP
Flight 3430
The double tone chime alerted the passengers they had reached a safe altitude, but just to make it clear to them, the captain made the announcement.
Even though Gabe knew they were high enough, he still felt nervous and a bit apprehensive about taking off his mask.
Jeff did first, then Gabe.
He inhaled, going all in with one deep breath.
Once he knew it was fine, he replaced the pilot’s emergency oxygen mask back in its side arm containment.
“I’m going to …” Gabe undid his belt. “Check on everything and my family.”
“Let me know.”
“I will.” Gabe stood. When he turned to face the open cockpit door, his father stood there. “Dad?”
Gabe knew by the look on his father’s face something had happened.
“Is Owen okay?” Gabe asked.
“He is, but it’s not good.”
Jeff pivoted in his chair to face Tom. “What happened?”
“Despite the best efforts of your newcomer firefighter, we lost people,” Tom replied. “It was an oxygen mask thing.”
Gabe clenched his fist and pushed it into the chair. “I knew it. I knew that was going to happen.”
“It wasn’t long after takeoff,” Tom said. “We had maybe less than a minute to get our masks on. Which is enough time, but some didn’t manage it. Some didn’t secure them or have them on properly. They needed to breathe in only what was coming through that mask. Anything else was deadly.”
“How many?” Jeff asked.
“Seven.”
Gabe heaved out a breath as his head lowered. “We tried.”
“You did.” Tom reached out and placed his hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “Right now, we need to start focusing on where we can safely land again, either to refuel or land. As we all said, we can’t stay up here forever.”
“I’m sure Gene is working on it,” Gabe replied. “I know if Gainesville remains safe, we still wouldn’t have enough fuel to get there.”
“Maybe next fuel up we will.”
Jeff asked. “What is the state of the passengers in the back?”
“In shock,” Tom answered. “Some are very upset, it was a family that passed away. It’s just an emotional mess. We need …
we need to move the bodies. We don’t know how long we’ll be up in the air. We need to move them.”
“Take them to the cargo hold,” Jeff suggested. “It’s colder down there.”
“Man,” Gabe said. “That just seems so insensitive. Impersonal.”
“It’s what needs to be done,” Tom said.
“What about just moving them to the back of the plane?” Gabe asked. “We could cover them, I mean doesn’t it take a couple days for the bodies to smell? By then we’ll be on the ground, right?”
“Hopefully, and we did start to move them to the back, Tom answered. “But Delaney thinks we need to move them below. For health and emotional reason.”
“Delaney?” Jeff asked.
“Our only medical person on board. She … um, works with the morgue.”
Jeff nodded with an ‘ah’, of understanding. “Okay then, I would go below. Use the rear cargo hatch. Clear a space. There are cords down there to secure them, and tarps. Then maybe a couple strong individuals could carry them down.”
“Our firefighter, Gary volunteered.”
“How’s Lance?” Gabe asked.
“Sedated,” Tom said. “Delaney put his mask on, she held it there. She was tending to him when we took off.”
“Will you … will you excuse me?” Gabe asked and made his way out of the cockpit.
There was something disturbing to him about putting the bodies below, it just seemed cold and callous.
Immediately upon stepping into the main cabin, he saw his brother to his right.
Owen was seated on the floor by the first row and by Lance.
“Hey,” Gabe said. “You alright?”
“I’m fine. Just watching our patient,” Owen replied. “I’m proud of you brother, good job.”
“Not good enough,” Gabe said, “Apparently, Dad said we lost seven.”
“We did. Mainly toward the back. The fire guy was making his way down the aisle getting people in their masks correctly. But you know, it happened so fast, there was nothing he could do by the time he got to the middle.”
Gabe looked down the aisle, Gary was making his way up from the back. He was hard to recognize without his fire gear. As he grew closer, Gabe could see two of the flight attendants standing, almost blocking the back area where the bathrooms were.
“Good job, young man,” Gary extended his hand. “You did well.”
“I heard you tried to help.”
Gary puckered a small, defeated smile. “I tried. I just moved them to the back row until we decide what to do with them.”
“The captain wants them below,” Gabe said.
“Miss Delaney thinks that’s best, too,” Gary stated.
“Is it though?” Gabe asked. “It seems so impersonal. I mean, we’re all on this flight together. I’m sure some have family on board now.”
“They do. I think they’ll be fine with moving them below. The bodies are slightly disturbing,” Gary commented. “For now, I have them in the last row. We covered them with what we could.”
Gabe leaned to the side to see the last row. Sure enough, where the flight attendants stood, the last row contained people. It looked as if they had been covered in those thin airline blankets, the shape of their heads clearly distinguishable. “I see only six. Are they over lapped? Please don’t tell me one was a child.”
“No. No. All adults,” Gary said. “And there are only six.”
“Where’s the seventh?”
Gary gave a look of ‘where do you think’ and he pointed backwards.
Gabe made his way there.
Delaney had her back toward Gabe, when the flight attendants parted like the red sea. As soon as he hit the back row, there was a weird bad smell that didn’t get any better when he stepped into the rear area. Delaney was on her knees, her rear resting on her foot as she leaned over the body of a man lying prone in the back of the plane on the floor in the larger open area of the rear galley.
Gabe cleared his throat.
Delaney set down her phone and looked over her shoulder.
“What … what are you doing?” Gabe asked.
“I’m examining the body,” Delaney replied.
“You’re not cutting him open, are you?”
She shook her head. “If I could, I would. I can’t, so it has to be a visual assessment.”
Gabe glanced down at the body. A male, older, maybe in his sixties. His eyes and mouth were closed, he looked peaceful. “Why?”
“For a couple of reasons,” Delaney said. “I highly doubt that anyone will be doing autopsies on those that died.”
“We know what killed them,” Gabe said. “No oxygen, and methane gas.”
“Yes. Yes, we do. But do we know what they went through?”
“You can tell all that by a visual assessment?”
“No, I can guess. Cutting into him would tell me more.”
“That’s cold.”
“It’s science, and his wife gave me permission to examine him. Because she wanted to know what he felt, what he went through, how long it took him to die.”
“Wasn’t she sitting right next to him?”
“In the craziness of the moment, she didn’t pay too much attention. No one did. It happened so fast. She said she turned her head and when she looked back, he was gone. She tried to put the oxygen on him. Now … the woman in twenty-two B, she fought it. Lasted longer than him.”
“How do you know? Did you examine her, too?”
“Just when we moved her. Her hand was clutching the seat, back arched, head to the side. It looked like a struggle. But we need to know for sure,” Delaney said.
“Is it important?”
“It is. To those of us who lost people or worry. I want to know if my kids suffered.”
“You don’t know that anything happened to them,” Gabe said. “You really don’t.”
“I don’t. Not for sure, but I know I can’t get ahold of anyone I know in Cleveland. No one. It’s not like the phones are down, they ring and ring. I even tried to call my office … nothing.”
“Don’t give up hope.”
“I won’t. But I am realistic and I want to be prepared.”
“Examining some dead guy will do that?”
“Raymond, his name is Raymond,” she said. “And he tells me a lot.”
“Like?”
“If you’re not timid …” she patted the spot next to her.
As soon as Gabe lowered to the floor, he released a slight huff. “What’s that smell?”
“The body sometimes releases what remains in the bowels and bladder. Ray here, released. You’ll get used to it.”
“I doubt it. Is that the reason you want to move all the bodies down below?”
“Not really. Think of the people on board. We are faced with a really unique and deadly situation, they don’t want to die, but knowing they can turn their heads and be reminded of death constantly, is a lot. Plus … in another three hours, these people will be impossible to move below. Ray is absent of rigor mortis, but a couple of the others are not.”
“Okay so … has Ray told you anything?”
“Yes. I can guess, but not for positive, age and preexisting conditions play a big factor into how long it takes you to die and how it affects you. Twenty-two B took longer to die than Ray. But I don’t think Ray suffered as badly as she did.”
“How do you know this?”
“Look at Ray’s chest,” Delaney indicated to the barreling and extended chest. “It’s big, not because Ray is big, but because it is filled with gas.” She leaned forward placing her head to his chest, then tapped it. “Still there. Which is weird because we expel all oxygen from our body upon death.”
“So … it’s not oxygen in there?”
Delaney shook her head. “No. To breathe, the atmosphere around us needs to be around eighteen percent oxygen. Whatever is happening, methane is replacing the oxygen. Everyone who tried to breathe suffocates, right?”
“Right.”
“But keep in mind, the ratio of oxygen and methane isn’t …” Delaney snapped her finger. “Instant. It’s a fast increase over a minute or two tops. We know that because the firefighter had almost a minute to put on his mask and live. He was able to help people in the first half of the plane. Anyone exposed in the first minute is breathing in the methane while the oxygen level was still semi breathable. Understand?”
“I guess.”
“And whatever this is closes our airways, like it inflames them closed.”
“Like asthma?” Gabe asked.
“Exactly. Ray here had COPD, his airways were already blocked. He also had asthma which inhibited him from exhaling.”
“Why does that matter?”
“It matters because his airways locked and closed instantly, trapping in a mixture of methane and oxygen. He couldn’t exhale, and he died from suffocation, but not before the methane blacked him out. He never got to the ‘oh my god I can’t breathe stage’.”
“But twenty-two B did?”
“She was able to exhale and then unable to inhale at all. Anyone with Asthma will shut down a lot faster than someone without it. It shows in their face as well. Ray’s mouth wasn’t open and gasping. His eyes didn’t bulge. Too bad everyone couldn’t die like Ray.”
Gabe just stared at her.
“What?” she asked.
“And you were only an assistant?”
“Tech. Fifteen years.”
“Did you ever want to be a medical examiner?”
Delaney nodded. “I did. But I didn’t have the patience for the schooling.”
“Del?” Gary called her name as he emerged into the back. “We have a problem with Lance.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“Some sort of reaction.”
She lifted the blanket at Ray’s feet and covered him. “I’ll be back Ray.” Then she stood and walked from the back area.
Gabe looked at Ray, then figured he wasn’t staying, and he followed to see what the problem was.
Tom knew the second he finished talking to Jeff, the captain, something wasn’t right with Lance. The co-pilot had quieted down, biting his tongue on painful cries after he was positioned in the first row. He was even more comfortable when Delaney rigged a way to support his injury with a drink tray and donated belts.
Flight 3430 Page 8
