“Is it? Gabe asked.
“No.” She shook her head. “I can’t stop shaking, my whole body is trembling. I’m trying so hard not to think about my children or husband, but it’s hard.”
“Hey, I know,” Gabe said. “I can’t stop thinking about my mom or my girlfriend.” His head quickly turned when he heard a slight grumble come from his father. “Dad, really?”
“I’m sorry, it’s habit,” his father said. “It’s reactionary when you say her name.”
“I didn’t say her name. And right now, with all that’s happening, everyone below us is probably dead …”
Delaney gasped.
“Way to go, Gabe,” Owen said. “Way to comfort your new seat mate.”
Gabe cringed. “I’m sorry. But we don’t know. We don’t know where it happened. We don’t know details.”
“You’re so calm.” Delaney sipped her bottle. “How are you doing that?”
“Obviously.” Owen said. “He self-medicated.”
“You know …” The father placed his tablet on his lap and turned toward them. “I’m Tom by the way.”
Delaney nodded her acknowledgement.
“As a parent myself,” Tom said. “I can tell you a way of thinking that helps. All the worrying in the world, all the fretting, isn’t going to make something not happen. You can play it in your mind, pray a million prayers and worry yourself sick, it won’t change what is out of your control. At least I subscribe to that thinking.”
“Oh my God,” Owen nearly squealed. “When? When did you ever subscribe to that way of thinking? Obviously it was before Gabe went bad boy down stripper lane.”
“Guys,” Gabe said.
“A million texts, Gabe,” Owen said. “Tons. Every night. He worried sick about you. Worried you would die or get arrested. No, wait, we all prayed you’d get arrested because at least we knew you were going to be safe for a night.”
“Where is this coming from?” Gabe asked. “Right now, you’re bringing this up.”
“We’re scared,” Delaney said. “Whether we show it or not, we’re all scared, that’s why. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t say anything.”
Gabe, Delaney and Owen all looked when there was a vibrating buzz sound halting the conversation.
Tom jumped a little in his seat and fumbled for his phone. He looked at it. “It’s Gene. It’s a text.” He maneuvered his phone, then stood.
“Dad?” Owen asked. “What’s going on?”
“I’m going to see the pilot.” He lifted his phone. “We have a place to land.”
<><><><>
Tom saw the faces of the passengers on the plane as he returned to his seat, they all looked at him as he passed, all of them knowing he had information. If it were up to Tom, he’d keep them informed, update them as much as he could and try to organize people. Put those scared with those who were brave.
Like Gabe did with the woman, Delaney. Although Tom wasn’t convinced his sons were helping her much. With all the worrying she had going on in her mind, he doubted anything but knowing the fate of her family would help.
He returned to his seat, or rather Gabe’s original seat and sat down with an exhale.
“Well?” Owen asked. “Are you going to tell us anything? You just kind of gave us a cliff hanger and walked off.”
Tom’s response was to point to the front of the plane.
The pilot emerged for the first time.
He held the PA system microphone. “If I can have everyone’s attention please.”
The mumbling of voices calmed down and the plane grew silent.
“Three and a half hours ago, seven AM Vegas time, there was a major spike in seismic activity around the Vegas area resulting in … well, what has happened all over. Methane levels rose and oxygen concentration in the air dropped. Creating a deadly combination. Folks, we literally just missed that. We are fortunate. At this time, levels have just started falling. They aren’t where we need them. Not yet. Dr. Taylor believes they will be. Now we have one hour and forty-five minutes of fuel left. That is taking into consideration that once we land we’ll need to taxi near a fuel truck. According to Taylor, levels are bouncing all over the place. If it’s safe it may not be for long. Again, here is our conundrum. Just under two hours of fuel. We can circle Vegas, hope the levels drop safely enough in time for us to land and refuel. If we do that, and the levels drop, we are afforded more time to refuel, perhaps even restock. Or … or …we head to Salt Lake City. We have enough fuel to get there. The levels will be safe, but here’s the deal, they won’t stay that way. Salt Lake City is one of the places where Dr. Taylor has a substation so the readings are accurate, however, the subterranean levels are rising, which is indictive of another explosion. We go, we land, get in, get fuel and get out. I’d like nothing more than to keep circling Vegas, but no pun intended that’s not a gamble I’m willing to take.”
There was a moment of silence and a gentleman spoke up. “So we’re headed to Salt Lake, then.”
The pilot nodded. “We are. We have to be fast. I don’t have a time frame for the next eruption, but Dr. Taylor believes we have enough time to refuel. But I need help. We need someone to go with my copilot, leave through the cargo and get to the refuel truck. If you have any experience in this, please, we need your help. Every minute counts.”
Tom knew.
He knew before it happened. He didn’t even need to see it.
Gabe’s hand went up without hesitation.
His son volunteered.
EIGHT – COUNT DOWN
Kearns, UT
A fire was something Gary Nealy never thought would actually save his life.
The entire reason he became a volunteer firefighter was because of his childhood fear of fire. He
