Skyborn The Divine

23: Falling

Flight 1274 was coming to a swift end.

Alice held the seats on either side of her in a vice grip, the world around her shaking so badly it was a blur. She could feel her stomach pressing against her throat as the passenger jet plummeted through the sky like a stone, and she fought the urge to spew her breakfast.

She looked to her left and saw the gaping hole in the side of the plane. She could see the shredded remains of what was once a wing with two jet engines hanging under it. Now only one engine remained, and it was on fire, belching smoke and screaming as though it knew its own fate.

"Athena!" she cried out. "The plane's damaged from the blast. How do we save it?"

There was no answer, and Alice began to wonder if the explosion that vaporized the laughing man had damaged her communications gear.

"Athena? Can you hear me?"

"Alice," she heard Athena say, "grab as many people as you can hold and get them safely to the ground."

Alice froze, the collar of her bomber jacket gently beating against her cheeks. She wondered if she was hearing her orders right.

"I don't understand," she said.

There was another moment of silence.

"Leave Ethan," she ordered. "Without him, you can carry one more person. He might be able to survive the crash."

Alice realized Athena was no longer using call signs. What kind of desperation, what kind of fear might persuade this woman to ignore her own strict rules of communication? Alice didn't want to dwell on it.

"But what about everyone I can't carry?" she pleaded. "Tell me how we can save them." She knew she could only carry four or five of the passengers if she was careful. Their weight wasn't a problem, but their size was. She only had so many hands to hold them. She waited, eagerly wanting to hear Athena's brilliant plan for saving the people of flight 1274. But somehow, she knew, no matter how much she wanted to deny it, that no such plan was forthcoming.

"You're running out of time," Athena warned. "Save as many of them as you can."

Alice knew there would be nothing more. No help would come from elsewhere. She and Ethan were on their own in a metal mass grave falling from the sky.

Alice tried flying to Ethan, but the shuddering aircraft made it almost impossible. She climbed hand over hand up the aisle.

Ethan clung to a seat ahead of her.

"I saw that going very differently," he shouted over the roar of the wind.

"What do we do?" she cried. Surely Ethan, who'd been on dozens of missions before she even attempted to fly on her own, would have an idea. She searched his smiling, handsome face for an answer.

Ethan looked at the flailing, crying, screaming people around him. A woman nearby clung to her child and screamed. He realized she was crying out for her own mother.

"I don't know," he admitted.

Alice stared into his face, waiting for him to say more, but he didn't. He just stood there, his face the only scene of quiet in the plane full of the wailing of the dying and the thunder of the rushing air. He stared back at her for a while, and then averted his gaze, as though something of mild interest were on the unstable floor. He still wore a smile, but it was paper-thin.

He's expecting everyone here to die. Maybe even himself, if he heard Athena's orders.

Alice scrambled past him towards the cockpit. She heaved herself into the cramped space and saw the pilot and copilot fighting with the controls like desperate sailors trying to fight a tempest.