Turbulence

Chapter One: Rough Skies

Chapter One: Rough Skies

 

The shortest day of the year was coincidentally one of Connor’s worst. Past the sound of Christmas music that serenaded every empty square inch of the airport, the sound of rumbling thunder could be heard, shaking Oregon with its biggest winter storm since the year before. Sleet fell in thick sheets that roared against the tin roof and shattered upon impact with the concrete below. Frozen rain and hail whipped through the air quickly enough to be life threatening, and winter weather advisories had been sent out to every home advising all citizens to stay indoors and ration food wisely. But, for Connor, the weather wasn’t the problem, at least not the weather in itself. The problem was that his best friend, and co-pilot of 7 years, was out flying a required special delivery that, if left undelivered, would cause the airline to fail on meeting its end of the year quota. He was doing this amidst the winter weather in a low-grade aircraft. It didn’t take a genius to see that the conditions were life threatening.

He did his best to bide his time and not spend his entire shift staring out of a frosted window. Visibility was nearly nonexistent from his office view and it was hard to imagine that it was much better from 42,000 feet above. He paced and studied the floor, counting to thirty before looking toward the window again. All he needed was a word that his friend was okay. He wanted to see bright headlights speeding down the runaway so he really could have a happy Christmas.

Hayden was more than just a buddy. In many ways he owed the man his life. He had been Connor’s only form of support and loyalty in all the years that he had lived in Oregon; he had kept him safe and looked out for him. Hayden was Connor’s rock, family, and protection. However, now that the tables had turned and it was Connor’s turn to play the hero, he‘d lost his friend under the wide expanse of the heavens. All he had on his side was dwindling hope and undying faith that Hayden would make it out alive.

Sadly though, faith in his friend didn't exactly mean that the plane was capable of withholding the conditions - he was forced to realize that when he was grabbed and pulled toward the exit into the rapidly dropping climate.

“What's going on?” he screamed over the howling wind and bursting hail.

Large eyes stared back at him, eyes belonging to the boss's only daughter, Sophia. Her nasally voice was barely capable of rising over the noises of nature mixed with the blood rushing to his ears. “There's been a mayday distress call!”

Connor's mind scrambled and shot out a million different explanations, but he knew there was only one plane out with one pilot and one co pilot. Only one possible source was available for sending out a distress call and the thought forced bile to rise in his throat. With no thought or concern for Sophia he darted toward the control center as fast as his thin legs could carry him. The cold hardly mattered, the hail bashing against him only gave him more motivation to race to his destination.

Once inside he was able to pluck a headset from the nearest circuit board operator and adjusted the mic to a skewed and awkward position. “New Way two-four-one-nine, do you copy, over?” His voice was harsh and he was absolutely winded, but he'd made it. He had no idea how he would even begin to help but hearing Hayden’s voice, hearing that he was still alive and well, was more than enough.

“New Way Center, Flight two-four-one-nine, request for immediate aid, over.” Hayden's voice crackled over the headsets and each circuit board operator was on red alert listening intently to the call.

Connor's voice hitched in his throat. “New Way two-four-one-nine what is your location?”

“New Way Center, Flight two-four-one-nine, estimating 1,500 feet descending and struggling to maintain flight level, over”