“You didn’t know for sure it was going to happen today, while you were in the air. You didn’t know.”
“We felt it.”
“I know.”
“What about our earlier spoke locations?”
Wiley replied rolling to Gene’s side. “Look at Albany.” He pointed. “Oxygen levels are at fourteen percent, methane levels at four percent.”
Susan asked, “Does that mean the parts per million are at forty-thousand?”
“Looks that way,” Gene answered. “I mean Albany levels hit seventy-five thousand PPMs, three hours ago”
“What was two hours ago?”
“I … I don’t know,” Gene answered. “We’ve been nuts here. I have planes contacting other planes to find out where to land …”
“Albany will be good in an hour, I bet,” Wiley said. “We need to tell the Cleveland and Boston flight that.”
Gene nodded, then turned his attention back to Susan. “Focus on Gainesville. I’ll be in touch.”
“Try to get me readings from our Arctic stations,” she said.
“I will.” Gene disconnected the call and pulled a tablet forward to look for the telephone numbers he had for the pilots on those flights. “They just have to be quick. We don’t know when they’ll erupt again.”
“While you’re making phone calls,” Wiley said. “I think I have good news for your friend.”
Gene gave him his attention. “What’s that.”
Wiley indicated to the readings. “Look at Salt Lake City.”
<><><><>
Flight 3430
Delaney heard the crunching of the plastic cup and with it, the smell of alcohol. Whiskey maybe. She didn’t know if it was that strong of an odor or if she suddenly developed a keen sense of smell.
It had to be the former, because every sense in her body felt dulled, lost in her heartache.
She could barely see the screen to her phone. And while a part of her didn’t want to waste the battery, the other part was in denial that anything was actually really happening. She had tried to call not only her husband, but mother, brother, friends.
No one answered.
That didn’t include the dozens of text messages.
She went on social media, trying to see posts.
If it was true, if indeed whatever happened below took her family’s life, then they needed to just open the door for her so she could jump out.
Her hands shook, her heart pounded. Crying quietly she tried to stifle the sound of her sluggish nose.
She saw the female flight attendant walking the aisle, checking on passengers. She said nothing, just looked.
“Excuse me,” Delaney called her attention. “Is it possible to get a drink?”
“No, ma’am, we are conserving all beverages.”
“No. no, I’m talking alcohol. I know it’s early, I can’t stop shaking, I can’t,” Delaney said.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, we can’t. We may land and have to go back in the air, we have to ration everything. I understand, I do, everyone is feeling the same way. Right now, we can’t. I promise, the second I’m allowed, I will find you.”
Delaney couldn’t help it, she released a sob while trying to thank the attendant.
It was crushing.
The scientist talked about a town called Hardin, where everyone died. He didn’t say that was happening below, only that it was dangerous. He didn’t even allude to everyone dying. Maybe, just maybe, her children were fine. She couldn’t image them suffering. Seven minutes was how long it took for the town of Hardin to die. Seven minutes didn’t seem too long, but to not be able to breathe or whatever it was that caused death, seven minutes of suffering was a lifetime.
Despite how hard she tried, Delaney couldn’t stop crying.
The guy in the seat behind her stood next to her, reaching into the overhead bin.
Delaney brought her fist to under her nose and turned her head.
She wished he’d sit down. He was making her even more nervous, getting something from the bag. Why wasn’t the flight attendant saying anything to him?
At that second, Delaney learned an instant lesson.
Quit judging people.
“Here,” he said, handing her one of those little airline size bottles of booze.
She looked at it, then up to him and again, burst into tears.
“Hey, come on, it’s not even the good stuff.”
“I’m sorry. I am.” She took the bottle. “Thank you. Are you sure?”
“Positive.” He crouched down in the aisle to be at her eye level. “I have seven more.” He held up a plastic bag.
“Seven?” She tried and tried but couldn’t undo the lid. “I thought the limit was six.”
“They’re little. I fit eight in here.” He took the booze from her, uncapped it and handed it back. “Hope it helps.”
“I don’t drink, so I think it will.” She sniffled.
“Gabe.” He extended his hand.
“Delaney or Laney. And again, I am sorry for being mean. Especially now that you’re being nice.”
“It’s the circumstances.” He cracked a smile. “Do you need someone to talk to?”
She nodded.
“I’ll get my dad to switch seats with me and you can sit between me and my brother.” He looked over his shoulder. “Dad …”
“Say no more.” His father stood, staring at his tablet as if reading and took Gabe’s seat.
Delaney dropped her voice to a whisper. “The flight attendant is going to yell. She did before.”
“That’s before we knew what was going on. Come on.” Gabe stepped into the aisle, allowing her to pass and take the middle seat. “My brother Owen.”
“Delaney,” she introduced herself and sat. She brought the tiny bottle to her mouth and took a sip. “Thank you for sharing this.”
Owen looked over her to Gabe. “You brought your own booze?”
“I didn’t know if they were serving this early.”
Owen eyed the baggy Gabe held. “Jesus, Gabe, don’t let Dad see that bag.”
“I’m right here,” his father said. “I may be reading, but I see the bag.”
Delaney sniffed again and nervously chuckled. “This is
