Falling(54)

Looking up, Jo found herself in the arms of Josip. His hand clutched a rolled-up magazine. He used it a second time, like a billy club, and the blow rendered Dave unconscious.

Jo pushed herself from his grip with a strength he probably didn’t expect, passing the second businessman as he went back for air. She stumbled to the last cart. Releasing the foot brake, she pulled it forward, slamming it against the secondary lock. Knocked off balance, she fell backward against the bulkhead. The cart slid back into place, the canister still stuck underneath. White poison streamed out like a ghost.

Josip understood and he unlatched the secondary lock. His massive hand placed on top of hers, they pulled the cart free, the canister rolling out in a cloud of poison.

Josip kicked the canister away from them. At the top of the aisle in the center of the galley, the former Marine kneeled in wait. Scooping the canister into her trash bag, she tied it shut with such force that Jo hoped the bag didn’t rip. Turning, she dropped the bundle into the arms of her wife, who waited with the next bag. Tying it just as forcefully, she double-knotted for good measure.

Josip dragged Dave’s body across the galley, freeing the way to the bathroom. Jo staggered forward, taking the bags from the paramedic while simultaneously pointing toward her seat. The woman nodded, stumbling backward, her wife extending an oxygen mask to her. Helping her put it on, she pressed the mask to her wife’s face as they both gasped labored breaths of clean air.

Josip ripped open the door to the lav and Jo tossed him the bag. He dropped it into the toilet and closed the lid with a slam before shutting the door. Jo pushed him out of the way, dropping to her knees in front of the lav. She shoved a soaking-wet first-class blanket into the crack at the bottom of the door. It was their last line of defense.

On her hands and knees she worked, not noticing her oxygen tank had slid around her torso and dangled from her body. Her mask was now covering her left ear. The elastic strap cut across her face. She worked as fast as she could but her hands felt stapled to the floor. Was she even moving? She honestly couldn’t tell. Something in her knew the poison was wrapping its bony fingers around her mind. She fell against the cockpit door with a thud.

Josip grabbed her, hoisting her upright. Sliding the mask around, he placed it firmly onto her mouth and nose. He pantomimed deep breaths. Jo mirrored him, the cool air acting like a slap across the face.

Josip had turned an unnatural shade of red, his eyes bloodshot. Jo took a massive inhale before she ripped off her mask, pressing it firmly against his face. Josip gasped inside the plastic, sucking in as much air as possible. Tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes. He gave Jo a nod.

He got to his feet and pulled her up when she grabbed his arm and pointed toward the seats. Josip nodded, taking another deep breath before handing the mask back to Jo. Picking Dave up off the floor like a rag doll, he tossed him into his old vacant seat.

Jo watched Josip as she resecured her own mask. She wanted to cry at how good it felt to be so wrong about someone.

Looking around, Jo took stock. The first businessman was throwing up into one of the trash bags, vomit already covering the front of his shirt. The second businessman looked like he too might be sick, his whole body red and slick with sweat. He convulsed and shook, clutching the armrests, just as the Marine in the row behind him did. Her paramedic wife looked into her constricted pupils. She took her pulse. Josip sat across the aisle, breathing with apparent difficulty, examining the blisters and rashes that were forming on his hands and arms. Next to him, Dave slouched forward, still unconscious, but wearing the mask Josip had put on him.

Beyond the cabin divider, the rest of the passengers sat in their seats pressing the masks to their faces. Most craned their necks, trying to see what was going on. Many leaned forward, hands clasped, eyes shut. They clutched each other, tears streaming down their faces and someone, somewhere back there, let out a moan.

Jo could see Kellie and Big Daddy in the back obediently strapped to their jump seats. They leaned forward from opposite sides of the plane looking down the center aisle at her. They were desperate to help.

Jo raised her shaking arm and gave a thumbs-up.

Twinkling stars crisscrossed her vision. A numbness spread over her face. She wiggled her nose and lips in an attempt to increase circulation. Sweat dripped out of the mask, down her chin. It was sweat, right? What if it was drool? Or was she foaming at the mouth? Unable to touch her face, she couldn’t gauge the extent of what felt like a slowly developing paralysis.

Jo registered a nagging hesitation that a potential Plan B remained onboard. But she allowed herself a small relief in knowing that she was alive, they were all still alive.

The poison gas attack was over.

Time was a slippery concept at the moment so she had no idea how much of the twelve minutes of oxygen the attack had eaten up. She was confident it wasn’t the full twelve, but it was close. Any remaining poison they hadn’t captured should dissipate harmlessly enough before the masks were useless. And not long after that, they would land, and hazmat would meet the plane and medical professionals would be ready and waiting to take over.

It was going to be okay.

Jo nodded.

It was over.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX


CARRIE’S WHOLE BODY SHOOK.

It started as a tremble, but after Bill threw the canister, it grew into something more animal, something more compulsive.

Elise began to cry again as Carrie’s tears dropped onto the baby’s face. Scott was buried in her lap, but now that the attack was over, he started to sit up. Carrie pressed him back down. His body shuddered under her weight and he began to cry along with his sister. Carrie gasped for air.