“I really hope they do,” she whispered in an anxious voice. “They say the storm wouldn’t even affect us and we’re flying the opposite direction. But everything clearing up like it did, I don’t like it. I just don’t like it. Anyway, here’s your seat, Mrs. Buchannan.”
I smiled and nodded then she took my carry on and tucked it in the overhead bin. With that, she hurried off. I stared after her, fighting the uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wished she had said something else, anything else. And while the weather looked promising, her words made me want to run off the plane as fast as I could.
“Are all of these flight people that cheerful?” Timothy laughed.
He was in the seat across the aisle from me. It pained me to offer up a smile like I remotely enjoyed his presence. Even an hour having to listen to him was going to be too much.
“Timothy,” I started. “You seem like a nice guy, but whatever this thing is you’re trying to do, don’t.”
He scowled at me. “I…I wasn’t. New York bitches,” he growled then turned away.
“Asshole,” I snapped.
Five years ago, I would’ve gotten up and broken his nose. Ten years ago, I would’ve broken his arm and thrown him head first off the plane. Thank God for the maturity that came with age.
For the next few minutes I sat with my eyes closed, humming to myself. I kept hearing what sounded like thunder, but when I looked out of my window it was still clear outside. My mind was spinning itself into a knot and I was ready to get home. Sitting on the tarmac was torture, it was like being strapped into a roller coaster, just waiting for it to snap you forward.
“Are we taking off soon?” I asked as another flight attendant passed me.
He was an older guy, with glasses and a bulky, silver watch that I could’ve read from the back of the plane. He had dark, brown hair with silver streaks in it and thick eyebrows that almost fell into his eyes.
“Just waiting on the all clear from the tower,” he replied. “We should be pushing off any minute.”
I nodded and leaned back in my seat.
“We’ll get you there. Don’t worry about that.” He patted my shoulder then walked off.
Sighing, I rested my head against the window and stared outside. Miniature trains rushed across the tarmac with tails of luggage swinging behind them. The ground crew was zipping all over the place, ushering planes from here to there like traffic cops.
A raspy hiss came from above as the vents started to blow warm air onto my face that smelled like stale water. A chorus of voices filled the cabin, swirling around, getting louder and louder. Passengers were growing restless.
“Don’t talk to her,” a familiar voice droned. “She’s full of herself.”
I looked up as a young man in jeans and a plain, white t-shirt stopped beside me. He had short, buzzed black hair and a thick beard that looked like he’d been growing it since childhood.
“Excuse me miss,” he said with a Caribbean accent.
I sat up and he took the seat next to me. I smiled then turned my gaze back outside.
“I didn’t want to startle you. I thought you were sleeping.”
“I’m fine,” I replied.
“See,” Timothy added from across the aisle. “Stuck up.”
The man gave Timothy a stern look then turned to me and held out his hand. “My name’s Quentin,” he said.
“MJ,” I replied and shook his hand.
“Don’t worry about that guy. It’s mandatory for each plane to have at least two clowns.”
I smiled then turned back to the window and watched the other planes rolling down the runway. I thought about Grayson and Toby and how excited I was that I’d be seeing them in a couple of hours. I couldn’t get back to Arlington soon enough.
Ten minutes later the pilot’s voice echoed over the intercom, announcing we were preparing for takeoff. Flight checks were completed, and a nervous looking attendant showed us how to buckle ourselves in and create a rudimentary floatie out of our seats, in case of a water landing. As we started rolling, I tucked that into the bucket of things I couldn’t care less about.
A low rumble brought my attention back to the outside, but judging from the lack of reaction, I was the only one that heard it. Everyone else seemed blissful, completely oblivious to the dangers of flying.
“What is it?” Quentin asked.
“I thought I heard something, but maybe I didn’t.”
“Holy shit!” he jolted suddenly.
I turned back to the window just as lightning flashed off to the side. Gnarled fingers of electricity stretched through the puffs of white and gray, clawing at us like the hands of God himself.
With wild eyes, I waited for the thundering rumble that never came. I waited for someone to come rushing down the aisle, announcing that the flight had been cancelled. But we kept rolling toward the runway.
Without a glance outside, the attendants took their seats as we started to make our final turn. Another flash caught my eye and I had to look twice to make sure it wasn’t someone snapping a picture.
“Did you see that?” I asked Quentin.
“Certainly did. I hope they ain’t planning to fly with that out there.”
He was right, I expected with some certainty, that our flight was moments from being cancelled. But the moment passed and as we begin to taxi the runway I gripped the armrest and steadied myself.
With a whirling grunt, the turbines spun as the plane powered up. The massive engines harnessed all the energy they could, preparing to escape Earth’s vengeful grip. My seat rattled violently and then we were off, charging down the pavement.
Quentin lurched back in his seat, his face mirroring my own fear and worry. Out of the window lightning bolts crawled across the clouds like demented spiders. The storm was back, and we were charging right towards it.
The lights flickered as the engine pulled power from the rest of the plane. The landing gear clunked as the wheels bounced over the small lumps in the road. I clenched my jaw and tensed up then felt a queasy sensation in the pit of my stomach.
The plane jolted from side to side and we were airborne. We dipped momentarily, and my insides dropped then the pilot pointed the nose toward the sky and we started to climb higher and higher.
I dug my nails into the vinyl-covered armrest and leaned back on the seat. My ears popped as our altitude increased then we banked sharply to the right. I leaned toward the window and stared down at the water through the dark swirling sky.
“Little windy out,” the pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom. “We’ll be going through a little turbulence, so a few bumps before we reach our cruising altitude. Nothing to worry about.”
On cue, the plane rattled and seemed to fall briefly. The turbines roared and we pulled further into the sky. I swallowed the lump of gravel in my throat as a man grunted somewhere in the back. With every bump and little dip someone would shout out or scream. This was more than a little turbulence.
A wave of fear washed over the cabin and I felt the terror radiating from every passenger like a hot stove. It was a helpless feeling, a sensation of being trapped, unable to do anything, but watch the inevitable.
The engine closest to me made a screeching whirl and the entire plane vibrated like an earthquake. Flashes of lightning snapped outside, the rumbling thunder exploding almost simultaneously.
A fire started to spark on the wing to my right. I stared in shock, unable to believe what was happening. The plane groaned and dropped again as the lights flickered on and off. It sounded like the engines were cutting in and out, trying to keep the metal tube in the air.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Quentin began to mumble over and over.
More thunder mixed with rattling clunks and loud droning noises echoed outside. The plane shifted from left to right as the pilots struggled to operate it. The jostling turned the microphone on momentarily and their hectic bantering shrieked over the speakers.
“We’re gonna
fucking crash, Nathan!”
“Idiot, you’re broadcasting…”
The intercom cut off. I fought the urge to look out of the window again then closed my eyes and clenched my jaw. With a loud boom, the plane dropped, and I lurched forward, slamming face first into the seat in front of me. Quentin grabbed my arm and pulled me back.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I nodded. My face felt numb except the trickle of blood that ran from my nose. A million thoughts rushed through my mind but evaporated as the intercom crackled on again.
“Brace for impact!” the pilot screeched hysterically.
Face masks dropped from the overhead bins and I could feel the sensation that we were dropping fast. People were screaming and crying out in fear as luggage fell to the ground and the beverage cart rattled loose and slammed into a seat.
I glanced to my right, fear pulling my eyes to the storm brewing outside. The water was screeching toward us and blurs of light and wisps of fog streaked by.
This was it, and there was nothing I could do. I looked around the cabin for what, I didn’t know, but I couldn’t believe this was happening. I was going to die alongside Quentin, a man I’d just met, with Timothy’s blubbering groans playing our death ballad in the background.
The plane sounded like a locomotive as we charged toward the murky waters of the Hudson River. Tears poured from my eyes and images of Toby and Grayson flooded my mind. There would be no tomorrow. There would be no seeing my son in his class. There would be nothing else.
“Oh my God!” I shouted.
CHAPTER 2
INTO THE ABYSS
Everywhere was cold and dark. Ice crept up my leg as death coiled its fingers around my throat. My skin erupted in goosebumps and my joints locked up in fear, but I didn’t fight it, I couldn’t. I didn’t have anything left.
Lucid thoughts were fleeting, but I was aware enough to know that the plane didn’t belong in the river. These were likely my last minutes of life, but my brain was already flooding my mind with happy thoughts, making my transition easier, making death a painless page turn.
I slowly slipped further and further away. Images of Grayson as a man and Toby smiling at me warmed my heart. I was almost gone, I hardly felt the frigid water as it rose higher and higher up my leg. The sound of the plane breaking apart was overshadowed by Toby’s voice as he comforted me, telling me everything would be alright. I was ready, I would follow his voice and leave the sinking airplane behind.
“MJ!” a harsh voice broke into my mind. “MJ, get up now!”
Someone grabbed my arm and yanked it hard. Toby’s face faded, and Grayson started to walk away. Don’t go, I screamed inside of my head. Reaching out to them, I felt my heart drop, then suddenly, they were gone, and I was alone.
“MJ! We have to go!”
I opened my eyes and for a moment had no idea where I was. Quentin was hovering over me. Blood oozed from a gash on his face, and his eyes burned with fear.
I looked from side to side as lights flickered on and off. Parts of the roof had caved in or been torn off and dead bodies were everywhere. Suitcases floated by me as a chorus of screams blared from the back. It was a living nightmare of pain and confusion, a horror movie that I couldn’t turn away from.
“The plane!” I gasped, reality pulling at my brain like a cranky toddler.
“We’re sinking. We have to get out of here,” Quentin said. “Are you okay?”
“I…I think so.”
Muttering, I unfastened my seatbelt with the precision of a thumbless, blindfolded monkey. I grabbed Quentin’s arm and he helped me to stand. The aisle was crowded with panicking people, rushing toward the exit door and my legs still hadn’t found their bearings.
In all the chaos, a man charged toward us. He shoved Quentin and barreled into me, knocking me off my feet.
“Out of my fucking way!” he roared.
I fell into the aisle seat and landed on top of someone. I hit them hard, but they didn’t move or make a sound. Their cold skin felt like slimy ice, it felt like death was reaching out, wrapping its defunct fingers around my wrist.
Pushing myself up, I stared down and cringed at Timothy’s pained face. He’d died poorly, strapped in his seat with his neck twisted at an inhuman angle.
“You okay?” Quentin asked for the second time as he pulled me to my feet.
“It’s Timothy,” I mumbled.
Quentin looked down at his dead body and frowned. “We need to get outside,” he replied curtly.
Pulling my hand, Quentin led me toward the middle of the plane. Water seemed to be rushing in from every side, even though we weren’t fully submerged yet. We ploughed through the waist-high rapids, fighting against the frigid touch and the cluster of obstacles.
People were storming into the aisle from everywhere. Frantic cries clashed with angry shouts as human nature took over. It was live or die and the savagery of mankind was on full display.
It was too much for me to take in, too many things happening at once and I was certain I had a concussion. Loud booms shook the floor, I couldn’t tell if the plane was exploding or it was the thunder outside, but I paused and grabbed the seat in front of me to steady myself.
“We can’t stop,” Quentin snapped.
He tightened his grip on my arm and pulled me with him. Suddenly the plane shifted and started to sink. We listed to one side and suitcases came toppling out of the bins like deadly missiles. I jumped backward to avoid one, but Quentin wasn’t so lucky, he caught the full brunt.
It was dark blue, with a shiny hard shell and fading bronze zippers. The logo on the case had worn off and there were numerous scratches, each with a different story about a destination that would never be seen again. Every detail was burned into my brain, tattooed in my neurons to never be forgotten.
It happened so fast I hardly had time to react at all. The sudden shift of the plane acted like a catapult, shooting luggage out like bullets, spraying anyone caught in the line of fire.
Quentin was a little way in front of me, one hand squeezing my wrist, the other trying to push the people ahead of us to the side. He was so intense, so focused on getting us out and then wham!
I knew from the sound that he was dead, the dull, but solid thud and the way his head twisted around his neck. His eyes immediately glossed over and he tumbled across the seats and rolled onto his back.
“Quentin!” I yelled and grabbed him by the collar.
I didn’t really know the man, but he tried to keep me safe and it cost him his life. It wasn’t fair…life wasn’t fair, but I had to keep moving.
With tear-filled eyes, I gazed at Quentin for the last time. His face was etched in pain, the last moments of his life written in the very lines that had once accentuated his gentle smile. For Quentin, there would be no tomorrow. His story would end in the icy waters of the river.
I lifted my head and looked back to the aisle. People were still pushing against one another, pushing through floating dead bodies to escape their own demise. It was like a herd of panicking cattle being corralled into a hamster cage.
“Move it lady!” someone shouted from behind me before shoving me in the back.
I steadied myself then without looking back, I trudged through the rising water toward the exit. Step after step, my head grew clearer, my instincts started to come back to me. I started to filter out the noise, all the background distractions and focused on what mattered.
There were twenty people between me and the exit. At least fifteen people were behind me, their thundering feet storming the aisle in hysteria. I couldn’t’ see a way out or a way through them, but I was gonna make one.
The plane was filling up fast with water, so much that the front had started to dip below the surface, creating a slight incline as we raced for freedom. Some of the windows were level with the angry river and I was sure the cockpit was already full.
I pushed harder at the crowd and thought of a show I’d seen on Discovery. It w
as about wildebeests and how hundreds of them plow through the river trying to avoid the deadly jaws of crocodiles. That was exactly what we looked like, a herd of wild animals, clawing and crawling over each other.
People were being trampled. Injured and confused passengers spun around like lost children as the stampede crashed over them like a rogue wave. They needed help, but it wasn’t my place. I was getting off that plane.
“We’re gonna die!” someone shouted as the windows behind me burst.
I’m not. Feeling the surge of people against my back, I tried to move faster, but there was nowhere to go. We were trapped, pinned together as people tried to jam through the narrow door toward the open air.
I heard a series of loud pops then stumbled. I almost fell but caught myself on the seat. Behind me water was flooding in from everywhere and the plane was dipping further and further into the currents.
I gripped the seat cushion as the nose of the plane sank, lifting the tail into the air. Straining, I pulled myself up and wrapped my arms around the seat back. I hugged it for dear life as I lost my footing and dangled in mid-air.
Some were lucky enough to do the same as I did. Others went falling into the rising water below us. The plane was practically vertical, sinking like an anchor towards the riverbed.
I cringed as the impact of bodies shook my seat. The echoing thud and cries of pain right before they splashed into the dark below.
With a grunt, I managed to pull myself into the seat and crouch. I grabbed the back of the next seat in the row and started to climb over it. As I did a man fell from a few seats above me. His arms flailed out to his sides, grabbing at everything as he tumbled to his death.
Before I could react, he barreled into me and snagged a hold of my shirt. My fingers were ripped away from the seat and I fell back grasping the air.
I pushed him away, trying to free myself, but it was useless. Twisting and turning I smashed into the row of seats below me and the row below that. In a heap of tangled limbs and twisted clothes we splashed into the water.
Deconstruction- The Complete series Box Set Page 35
