Side Effect ● Open Novella Contest Entry 2019

7 • Flying In

I kept nodding off in the plane, head bobbing and then straining to keep my twitching eyes open.

"You okay up there?" Brett asked.

"Yeah, sorry, just tired," I answered, sitting up straighter. Surprisingly, I wasn't sick. This was my first time in a small plane and I figured I would be vomiting every few minutes. Needless to say, I was glad.

"You can sleep," Brett said. "Just don't grab the controls in front of you.

"Gotcha," I said, snuggling down. It was a little tough to do so with the massive parachute vest thing around me. I close my eyes.

When I opened my eyes again, the plane was angled down. In a momentary state of panic, I grabbed at the handle of my vest.

"Hey, you're awake," Brett said. The ground got even closer and then... my head jerked only a little bit forward as the wheels kissed the tarmac. Brett slowed to the plane and steered it toward a hangar. A man was waiting outside of it.

You have got to be kidding. This is it. I am going to be murdered in some random hangar somewhere in the United States.

The man smiled at Brett and slapped the nose of the plane.

"Hey!" Brett cried, hand flying up. The man laughed and stepped out of the way. Brett steered the plane in and it rolled to a gentle stop.

"Kevin here, my brother," Brett said, "Is going to fill up the plane while we get something to eat. You're paying."

"Fine," I said with a laugh. Brett undid the mess of belts across his chest and popped open the roof.

I tried to figure out the buckles and got one but Brett came around and undid them faster than I could of. He held my hands as I hobbled to my feet. Immediately, the world tilted and swirled. Brett was prepared and picked me up and carried me to a garbage can. He lowered me next to it and I gripped the sides.

Let's not throw up. I leaned my head against the side and the cool metal of the rim felt good. After only a few minutes, the world ceased its waving and I was able to stand up.

"You did it, kid," Brett said, slapping my back. He handed me my crutches and I slipped them under my arms. "Thanks," I said. I looked around us and it looked about the same as rural Idaho. "Where are we?"

"Welcome to Kansas!" Brett said, spreading his arms. "The land of fields and not much else."

"This is like Idaho copy and pasted," I said, scanning the area.

"You're not wrong."

Kevin came out of the hangar with a wheelchair. "This might be helpful," he said, pushing it off to me. "The restaurant is a half or so mile away."

"Thanks," I said. I felt awkward, never actually been in a wheelchair before. I sat in it with my crutches across my lap. I tried out rolling the wheels to move and found it was fairly tricky to get it to turn. Nevertheless, I got the hang of it quickly. But apparently not quickly enough for Brett. He came up behind me and pushed me instead. It was faster than the jerky movements of my arms.

We wheeled off the dusty runway and down the road a ways to where a small diner sat. We ordered and ate quickly. Brett warned me not to eat too much, lest I got motion sick again. We ordered a sandwich for Kevin and jogged back. Well, Brett did.

"We'll need to fill up again in a few states," he said, panting. "Then we should be good. You ever been to New York?"

"Yeah, just a few weeks ago, actually. For New Years."

"Are you clear on the whole situation there?" he asked.

"Yes. I won't get bit by the drugged up people," I said, smiling at the image.