They needed to head Northeast.
After punching in the coordinates, he turned the plane and once on a steady course, Owen got up to check on things in the back.
Gabe didn’t expect, when Owen returned, to hear there was a critical and life-threatening incident with his father.
It was a good thing the camera wasn’t on the cabin or they would have seen it.
Switching the plane to autopilot, Gabe undid his belt and stood.
“What?” Owen asked. “You’re leaving?”
“I want to check on Dad.”
“But you can’t leave me here.”
“It’s okay. It’s on autopilot, I’ll be right back.”
He supposed his brother freaked a little when he left the cockpit, Gabe understood that. He would only be gone a few minutes and needed to see his father.
“I’m fine,” his father told him. “I really am. A little problem with the hose, but it’s good. Delaney, she … she saved my life.”
“Thank you,” Gabe told her.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“No,” Gary said. “It wasn’t anything. It was quick thinking. Your father could have died.”
“You saved my life,” Tom said.
“Then think of it as repayment for you saving mine,” she said.
“I’m good son.” Tom grabbed Gabe’s hand. “Don’t worry. Go back and fly the plane. I’m fine.”
There was something about his father’s appearance that screamed otherwise.
Was it Gabe’s imagination?
Tom went from looking in his forties to looking in his sixties. He was pale, very pale, and he spoke softly. Almost as if he struggled.
Maybe it was nothing and just the physical ramifications of being near death.
Tom reiterated he was fine and Gabe had to believe that.
Taking his father’s word for it, Gabe returned to the cockpit.
He tried to reconcile what had happened. A problem with the tubing, his father wasn’t getting pure oxygen.
The deadly air seeped into his mask and it was a slower process than anyone else.
It stayed with him, the worry over his father. He wanted to dismiss it as just concern and not a gut instinct, but when Delaney came into the cockpit, he knew that wasn’t the case.
“What is it?” Gabe asked. “What’s wrong.”
“Your father … I’m not a doctor, Gabe, but something isn’t right.”
“He was fine ten minutes ago.”
“I know.”
Gabe stood.
“You’re leaving the cockpit again?” Owen asked
“Something is wrong with Dad.”
“Go,” Delaney said. “It’s on autopilot, right? I’ll stay.”
Gabe led the way as he and Owen made it to first class.
His father sat in the first row, over where Delaney had been sitting. Gary sat next to him, he had taken the facial part of the SCBA mask off and held the black breathing portion to his father’s face.
“Dad?” Gabe asked with worried. “What’s going on?”
Tom pushed the mask away. When he spoke, he spoke short and breathless. “It’s … it’s hard to breath. Feels sluggish.”
Gary spoke up, “It just started. He said his chest felt like it was tightening. His blood pressure and heart rate are good. But I listened to his lungs, there is very little air movement. And I hear fluid.”
“Like pneumonia?” Owen asked.
“Like that, but fast.” Gary put the oxygen back to Tom. “His O2 levels are around ninety percent, not dangerously low, but low.”
Gabe asked. “Was this because his mask malfunctioned?”
“Absolutely,” Gary replied. “When Delaney did the autopsy, remember. She said the lungs were horribly inflamed and it appeared they had been …” Gary stopped talking when Tom began to cough violently.
He coughed so badly, he couldn’t keep the mask on. He brought his arm over his mouth and hacked. It was deep and continuous. The spasm lasted only half a minute, but ended with Tom looking horrified, pulling down his sleeve and exposing blood.
Gary exhaled heavily and peered up to Gabe. “Hemorrhaging. Delaney said the lungs on that man appeared to have been hemorrhaging.”
“I’ll be fine,” Tom said, then Gary gave him the oxygen once more.
“I know you will,” Gabe said, turned and rushed to the cockpit.
“How far are we from Billings?” Delaney asked.
“Hour and a half,” Gabe replied.
“Gabe,” Owen said. “Dad needs a doctor. I don’t think Billings has one.”
“They don’t. But maybe Uncle Gene knows where one is. Maybe Gainesville.”
“Can we make it there on the fuel?” Owen asked.
“Unfortunately, no, we’ll need to stop for more fuel. Either way, we have to call Uncle Gene.” Gabe grabbed his phone and stepped into the little hallway between the cockpit and cabin.
His phone call was brief and at least it was encouraging.
Uncle Gene knew exactly where they could go for a doctor and would set it up. All Gabe had to do was turn the plane.
Gabe was relieved. He was also happy that, if the worst happened with his father, they were going home.
They were headed to Colorado.
NINETEEN – ABATED HOPE
Naval Operations Support – Billings
“Did they mention any other symptoms?” Colonel Macintosh asked over the radio. “We have a doctor wanting to know.”
“No, just what I told you,” Gene said.
“We got them on radar looks like they’ll land in about ninety minutes maybe less. We’ll give them coordinates and communicate with them.”
“Thank you.”
“We will have emergency transport ready at the airfield for them. We’ll take care of your family.”
“I appreciate it.”
“We need every person there is. So we all have to do what we can.”
Gene thanked the colonel again before ending the call. He was a mess, a frazzled mess. He didn’t have many details about Tom, just that he took in too much tainted air and was having difficulties.
“Uncle Gene,” Gabe said. “He’s coughing up blood and it’s thick.”
It sickened him to hear that.
All that Tom did to survive with his sons. All the passengers
