by Brad Manuel
“Warm water.” Peter replied. “The warm ocean water I am going to dive into when we get to Hawaii. Sandy beaches, empty from one end to the other, and beautiful blue warm water.”
Ahmed and Peter discussed the joys of tropical living, and their anticipation for sweating under a hot sun for the first time in months. Peter missed fresh fruit more than any other food. He could take or leave steak, but bananas? They were his favorite. Their conversation lasted into Chicago’s airspace.
Peter kept the cabin door open during the flight. He turned and yelled for Dan as the plane approached Chicago.
“Yes?” Dan replied, poking his head through the door a second later.
“Are we locked and loaded with the flyers?” Peter asked.
“We’ve been good since we left.”
Peter picked up the intercom. “If everyone could sit down, I’m going to give our operation paper drop a try in the Chicagoland area. It might get a little bumpy while I’m descending, so buckle your belts for a few minutes.” He looked at Ahmed. “Where should we go? We only get one shot at this.”
“I would guess people would stay by the lake for food, but I have no idea. We can’t drop the paper by the lake, that would be a waste.” Ahmed laughed. “We should have discussed this earlier. Maybe it wasn’t a game time decision.”
Todd snuck up to the cockpit and strapped into one of the empty seats. “We lived in Chicago for five years. Let’s go up to Evanston by Northwestern. It’s near the lake. Some of the paper might blow into the lake, but it’s a chance we have to take, right? That’s why Avery laminated a few. I know you are probably thinking people might live right on Lake Michigan to fish, but I doubt it, not in the winter. They would go to the suburbs. There are plenty of small ponds to fish. There are deer and game to hunt. West and north of the city is the place to drop.”
Peter descended at a comfortable pace. There was a little turbulence, but no big drops or jolts. The enormous plane absorbed most of the turbulence bumps. “I’ll fly straight up the city, drop the leaflets coming from the south. When I see the football stadium I’ll bank west, open the gear, and we’ll give it a try.”
“All we can do.” Todd was curious to see if the flyer program worked.
“I’m going to put it on the screen for everyone to see.” Peter smiled, his teeth were white under his three day salt and pepper stubble and dark sunglasses. He pointed to a button that read ‘rear camera.’ “This plane has a camera on the belly. You can watch the landing gear go down. A fun gimmick to keep the passengers occupied.”
“Nice.” Ahmed duplicated the old man’s grin while nodding in approval.
Chicago loomed in their front window. Peter was down to 5,000 feet, and the ride was choppy. He buzzed over the Sears Tower heading north. Todd watched as they passed over a noticeably brown Wrigley Field. The normally green ivy appeared dead.
“I miss baseball. I didn’t go to many games, but it was a big part of my life. I never saw the Cubs win the World Series. Damn.”
“Like the rapture had anything to do with that.” Ahmed replied sarcastically.
“That’s the place you’re talking about, right?” Peter pointed towards the football stadium at Northwestern.
“Yes, go up a little bit more, turn and drop.” Todd’s face was glued to the window to see the flyers.
Peter waited a few seconds, turned the plane west in a wide bank, and announced to the cabin. “Well folks, pardon the interruption, but if you would please focus your attention on the viewing screens, you’ll see our first attempt to contact other survivors.” Peter flicked the camera button to “on” and dropped the landing gear.
The passengers watched their television screens as papers flew out of the bottom of the plane. The kids screamed.
“It sounds like it worked, at least from our end.” Peter said to Ahmed and Todd. He kept the landing gear down for a few minutes before raising the wheels. Peter set the altitude to 36,000 feet, and sat back as the plane ascended. When the plane was back to appropriate altitude, he noticed the fuel gauge needled was down a notch.
“We have a problem.” Peter reported to Todd. “We can only drop leaflets one more time, maybe twice.”
“What’s wrong?” Ahmed asked from the co-pilot seat.
“It’s eating up too much fuel. We burn more at the lower altitudes, and climbing back up to 36,000 is almost like taking off again. If we fly to Texas, drop fliers three times, maybe hit St. Louis going there, Los Angeles, San Diego, San Francisco on the way up the coast? We’ll crash in the Pacific before we get to Hawaii.”
“Holy shit.” Todd said.
“Don’t panic, we’re fine, but we can’t drop fliers from here to Honolulu. Pick two more cities, and we go from there. I suggest L.A. We drop as many as we can, then we fly to our new home.”
“I’ll discuss it with everyone. Damn. Well, it was a ‘nice if we can.’ I’ll let Antonio know he might not get a bump in his female population.” Todd unbuckled and went into the back.
“You need anything?” Ahmed asked. “I’m going to use the restroom, grab a drink and some crackers.”
“I’d love a water, thank you.” Peter sat comfortably in his seat. The plane was on auto-pilot towards Dallas. Peter took a guess and changed the destination to San Francisco. The plane altered course, steering ever so slightly towards the west. “We’ll hit San Francisco and L.A. Anyone who stayed in Texas in July probably died from dehydration or heatstroke.” He mumbled to himself. “Or they made the smart move towards the coast and are in Mexico or Los Angeles.”
Todd relayed the fuel concern to the group. “Doing it two more times would not be a risk, but that’s it. We can fly low through San Francisco, L.A. then it’s off to paradise.”
“You really think people are in San Francisco?” Avery asked.
“It’s a big area. Oakland is there, San Francisco, Sacramento. They could fish for food. The climate is nice. Yes, probably a better bet than L.A. L.A. is hot. People in California would migrate north to escape the desert.” John answered.
“I’ll report to the captain.” Todd walked towards Peter, meeting Ahmed in the steward’s cabin. “We vote for San Fran and L.A.”
“I thought as much.” Peter replied. “I set the location to San Fran. We can drop the paper and fly down the coast to L.A. at a lower altitude before climbing back up and out to Hawaii.” Peter looked down at the computer. “We have three hours before the drop. Can you let Dan know he can reload whenever.” Peter remembered their confusion about where to drop in Chicago. “And ask if anyone has a suggestion on where to drop in San Francisco. I’ve been a few times, but only as a tourist. Am I dropping on Nob Hill and calling it a day?” Peter
“I’ll check, and if you need relief, I can send Tony up here. He’s playing games and watching videos with the other kids.”
“I will stretch my legs and walk back with you. Ahmed, you okay for a second?”
“To just sit here, right? I don’t do anything?” Ahmed had mild concern in his voice.
“Just sit back, enjoy the view of nothing, and eat your crackers.” Peter told him. “I’ll come back with some Milano cookies.” He gave Ahmed a pat on the shoulder.
Peter used the facilities and came back to the cabin. “Has anyone spent any time in San Francisco?”
“I went to Stanford.” Dan told him, raising his hand. “It’s a complicated area. San Francisco is big. Oakland is big, Sacramento is big, and there are sizable towns up and down the coast. All of the areas are suitable for people.” He thought for a minute. “Let’s descend over Oakland, drop fliers on San Francisco, keep low, and I’ll throw leaflets all down the coast. We have more than enough papers. I’ll save a thousand for Honolulu.”
“I don’t want to raise and lower the gear. Can you not get sucked out the trap door hole if I leave the gear down?” Peter was weary of playing up and down with the landing gear.
“I hope.” Dan laughed. “L.A. is a desert. No one could stay the
re. They’d die. Any survivors would migrate to Malibu for food, water, and vegetation.” Dan shook his head. “California and L.A. had so many people, I bet there are fifty survivors down there.” He paused. “Let’s fly to San Diego, keep the landing gear down to Malibu. The odds are high a group of people are down there.”
“I can do that.” Peter told him. “We’ll make it work. We have plenty of fuel with our revised plan.”
“How about this?” Dan continued. “I’ll work with the door open in SoCal. If I don’t get sucked out and can drop fliers to the ground effectively, I’ll pepper Northern California the same way. As a favor to me, let’s add Seattle before we bank west to Hawaii.”
A smile crept across Peter’s face. “That is a great plan. I’ll call you when we’re close. You have two and a half hours until we hit San Diego.” Peter walked back to the cockpit and sat in his chair. He checked the instrument panel, adjusted their heading from San Francisco to San Diego, and settled back in his seat to talk to Ahmed.
Dan stood to load fliers into the landing gear. He watched the group from the door of the steward’s pantry. Despite the total collapse of society, people still followed established rules with regards to plane travel. Seat belts were fastened, and his friends remained in their seats.
“What’s the story?” Bernie asked. She was on a break from the kids, who did not need the chaperoning she anticipated. The children watched movies and played games happily and without incident.
“We are going to fly over California, drop leaflets from San Diego to Seattle. We have about two and a half hours.” Dan explained. “I’m going to load fliers. I want a movie rolling when I get back.”
55
Dan and Paul wore gloves, ear protection, and coats as they stuffed rescue letters through the jet’s floor open to clouds. Their ears stung from the noise despite their protection. They let go of the bundles of notes above the opening and watched the papers get sucked to the ground. Peter assumed the cold would be unbearable, but the noise trumped any discomfort the sub-zero temperatures posed.
Paul grabbed the trapdoor handle and shut the hole. “That’s enough, I can’t take anymore. I want to hear when I get old.” He screamed to his friend. They had thick rope wrapped around their waists, safety lines preventing them from getting closer than a foot to the opening. The lines were not to help them if they fell out of the hole. The lines prevented them from getting anywhere near the hole.
The noise was deafening until the landing gear was raised and the outer doors thumped shut.
Dan sat with his legs stretched out ahead of him. He panted. It was not hard work, but it was exhausting to stare into a 5,000 foot abyss, throw papers, and make sure you do not go with them. He used his hands to keep himself up, his palms on the ground just behind him.
“You think there was anyone down there?” Dan asked with a yell.
“I don’t know. You stayed in Boston, and that place was freezing. I bet survivors stayed. Where would they go?” Paul stood and reached his hand out to help Dan off the ground. “We’re doing what we can, what we know is right.” Paul grunted as he helped the large man to his feet.
“Thanks for the help.” Dan pulled off his gloves. “You’re right, all we can do is what we can.” The plane ascended slightly. Paul opened the trapdoor and threw two thousand notes into the wheel well for the last west coast drop in Seattle.
“You should go up front to see the space needle one more time.” Paul told him.
“It shouldn’t be too long, maybe another four hours before Hawaii.” The stack of was down to a less than a thousand. Dan and Paul peppered California with close to 80,000 rescue pages.
“I hope Peter takes a break. He’s been sitting up there all day.” Paul unzipped his coat and placed it on a pile of luggage.
“He won’t. You can tell, this is what he does. He flies planes. If you were doing the thing you loved for the very last time, wouldn’t you soak it in? I would.” Dan placed his jacket with Paul’s.
Dan enjoyed the Seattle skyline one last time. It was raining. Peter opened the landing gear over the Space Needle before banking west towards Hawaii. He hoped the rain would not destroy all of the fliers, though he knew fifty of them were laminated.
Peter made an announcement as Dan and Paul walked towards the cargo hold to dump papers in the wheel well for the drop over Honolulu.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our final ascent towards Lihue International Airport. Kick back. According to the navigation computer we’ll be landing in approximately three hours and forty two minutes. The next land you see will be the beautiful island of Oahu.”
Dan and Paul shook hands after the final loading of fliers into the landing gear well. “Let’s get back to our seats before they put a rom-com on the screen.” Paul looked at the animals. He nodded to Kelly and Karen, playing Gin on the ground next to the cows.
“To be honest, I didn’t go to many movies. I’ll watch pretty much anything.” Dan did not rush like Paul asked.
“You have to back me up on this one. I can’t watch another romantic movie, I just can’t.” Paul pleaded.
“Okay, I’m just saying, I haven’t seen it, so it wouldn’t be the worst pick.” Dan raised his hands in mock surrender.
“Just work with me, okay?” Paul parted the curtain into first class. “When Harry Met Sally” was on the screen. He dropped his head.
“Awesome, I haven’t seen this before.” Dan said, sitting next to Todd. “Paul, can you look for some popcorn like you said you would? Thanks.”
“Popcorn sounds great! Thanks Paul.” Emily told her brother in law. “Maybe pass around some drinks too?”
Paul’s mouth opened slightly in disbelief. He risked his life to throw fliers out of the plane, and now he was relegated to steward duties.
Dan did not make eye contact with him.
“I’ll take a Sprite.” Jamie called out, eyes glued to the screen.
“Coke!” Todd raised his hand.
Orders continued. Paul was in a no win situation. He went to the pantry for popcorn and soda.
56
Peter’s voice interrupted the movie. “About an hour, stretch your legs if you need to.”
The adults were antsy and nervous. The kids, entering their twelfth hour of media, were ready to get off the plane. Even the animals in the back grew increasingly restless.
Kelly did not want to use additional tranquilizers or sedatives on the animals. She was sure she could manage them for another hour, probably close to three hours at their current doses. Her biggest concern was the bull. If he woke, he would get rowdy with the cows and surrounding animals. She assured those who came to see the animals, that the bull would be asleep for several more hours. Secretly, Kelly was not as confident. She had tranquilized horses, but never a bull. In theory the weight to sedative ratio should be the same, but theory and practice? Kelly prayed the big animal with horns and a temper would stay asleep.
Greg and Rebecca sat quietly for most of the flight. They occupied seats in the last row of first class next to a window. Matt and Avery sat in front of them, and turned around often to pester the couple. Greg and Rebecca played cards, a travel version of scrabble, or talked quietly. Rebecca was the only one who knew Greg was secretly afraid to fly.
Towards the middle of the flight Matt goaded the teens into playing Monopoly. The game lasted over three hours, and most of the plane watched parts of the match. The long flight reminded Greg of the days he spent stuck in the Webster cottage, snowed in or weather bound by negative temperatures. If he had not been afraid of flying, the twelve hours would have been a breeze.
Towards the end of the flight, even the stoic Greg felt the excitement of landing.
“I can’t believe we are going to make it.” He gripped Rebecca’s hand tightly.
Matt turned around and put his palm in the air for a high five. Greg released Rebecca’s hand and slapped his brother’s. Avery knelt backwards in her chair to face them.
>
“This is so exciting!” She practically yelled.
Craig wandered into first class from the video game marathon.
“Are we almost there?” He asked. His eyes were wide open and bloodshot as if he had watched television for a week.
“Better grab a seat, Craig. We are about to land.” Matt pointed to the aisle seat next to Rebecca.
“Do we know what we are going to do when we land? Are there going to be cars? Do we know where we’re going to stay the first night? I’m hungry. Can someone get me a drink?”
Rebecca stared at the boy. He was young, but should not have whined like a four year old. “You can go grab some chips or crackers up there.” Rebecca pointed towards the steward’s area. She had never been as helpless as Craig appeared to be.
Craig asked if others would like something, and despite the ‘no’ replies, he brought back two boxes of goldfish, an assortment of chips, and bottles of water.
“So what are we going to do when we land?” He asked again.
Matt put a chip in his mouth. “Well, we’ve done some advanced planning. Don’t get too worried. Tony was smart enough to load five new car batteries into the hold. We will swap out dead batteries and get cars or vans working. We have studied guide books and found several places for tonight. It’s going to be afternoon when we arrive, but we’ll be exhausted. We just want beds for the night. Food? Eat what you can right now. I believe we are hoping for fruit and other things to materialize tomorrow. I doubt we’ll do dinner tonight.”
Peter’s voice came over the speaker again. “If you look out your window, you’ll be able to see the islands of Hawaii. We’ll fly lower over Honolulu. We should be on the ground in less than 20 minutes. I have received clearance from the tower. We are number one to land.”
Some of the adults chuckled. Craig did not understand. “But there aren’t any other planes.” He said to Matt.
“That’s the joke.” Matt told him. “Anyway, yes, we are ready for when we land. I’m not sure it’s going to be a bang bang operation, but we know what we’re doing.” He looked at Avery. “You have any idea how excited I am to be warm? I haven’t been warm in like six months.”
