The fireman stumbles to his feet. The throbbing in his head swells, turning into an explosion of light. His legs buckle. Devin grabs onto a seat back and forces himself to stand.
“Get out of here,” he shouts deafly to any passengers still left to hear. “There’s an exit up ahead!”
No one moves in the flickering haze. Devin starts pulling at the people closest to him, pointing to the bright daylight of an exit towards the front. He looks up with new dread.
The rear section is completely engulfed in fire. Flames flow quickly over the top of the split cabin.
Stepping back, Devin trips over the crumpled body of Terrence Mann. He scrambles up and looks around for other survivors, his eyes finally sharpening through the haze.
Fear stares hauntingly back at Devin from the faces of the dead. Their broken bodies are everywhere. They sit. Unblinking. Silent.
Jesus, is everyone dead?
A wild-eyed Arab man suddenly pushes past him. Holding his left arm to his chest, he shoulders the fireman aside.
“Hey,” Devin tries to yell. “Help me check for other survivors!”
Abd whips around. His black eyes are filled with a barbarous fear. The Arab man shakes his bearded face before driving forward toward the hope of salvation outside.
“Help me,” Devin shouts, but the dirty blue jersey just runs faster into the light.
Turning back to head deeper into the plane, Devin notices something moving. His heart leaps. A young woman is sitting several rows back, clutching a blanket tightly to her chest. He races toward her, but slows when he sees what she’s holding.
Devin looks down at a motionless baby in her arms. He fights back the tears all parents feel for injured innocence. Gently, the fireman helps the young mother out of her seat and stares deep into her eyes. They are haunted, filled with an uncertainty that even she doesn’t want to end. Devin leans down, slowly pulling the blanket back from her baby’s face. His stomach knots with dread.
The fireman almost collapses. A calm look of unquestioning love blinks back up at him. The baby’s perfect face is smiling, as if to ask why the rollercoaster stopped. Devin’s breath thunders out of him. He helps the mother and child limp past the bodies and destruction around them, escorting her quickly through the wreckage. His green eyes dart around the cabin to the growing flames. You can’t have them…
Several screams echo out from behind. The fireman turns, his instincts telling him to go back for more.
“Can you make it out?” Devin tries to ask the young mother over the low hum still in his ears. The blank look on her face gives him his answer. He looks around quickly, spotting a head and shoulders rising above the seat backs in front of them.
“You’ve got to get up!” Devin screams inaudibly to Chris Thomas. The basketball star doesn’t even turn. He just sits, staring forward at the bloody headrest. The decapitated body of the passenger ahead of him is barely obscured by crushed metal from the canopy above.
Blinking back to reality, Chris looks over at his best friend. He stares down at Darius’s still eyes and the body now slumped against him. Flickering electronics beside them seem to freeze. Their sparks slow, pulsing a brilliant orange as understanding dawns deep inside. The moment shatters everything Chris has ever known.
Devin grabs the 17-year-old’s shoulder, shouting to him as the sounds return with a fury all around. “I need your help! Can you move?!”
Chris’s head snaps to attention, but he looks past Devin. Through him almost.
“Get her out of here!” Devin yells. He somehow pulls Chris’s huge 6’7” body out of the seat and pushes his hands under the young mother’s arms to support her.
“They need you!” Devin shouts. He grabs Chris’s face and forces the teenager to meet his gaze. Devin points to the front of the plane and the blinding light now pouring in. “Move!”
Chris blinks several times, still trying to make sense of the chaos. He nods, starting off with the mother and child towards the white.
His jaw clenches. The basketball player turns to look for the last time at his best friend. Flashes of a young lifetime together play all around him like projected memories. Laughter and hope instantly brighten the cabin with their vivid colors. But the smiles and invincibility of youth quickly burn away to the rows of death he passes.
Dark smoke, stinking of chemicals and melting plastic, stings Devin’s eyes. The burning fog thickens the deeper he runs into the plane. His head whips from side to side, searching. Hoping. The fireman crosses the cabin, almost passing an elderly couple sitting quietly in the shadows. The woman’s head rests gently upon her husband’s shoulder. Tears run freely down the old man’s weathered cheeks as he caresses her hand.
“You have to go!” Devin shouts.
The man doesn’t move. He doesn’t even hear the words. His life is so joined with the woman at his side that the world itself does not exist for him anymore.
“There’s nothing you can do for her!” Devin pleads.
But the old man just clutches his wife tighter and continues to cry.
Devin’s voice becomes hushed. “Please.”
Images of his own beautiful wife erupt in Devin’s mind. Light sparkles as it passes through her hair. It gives him a glimmer of peace, billowing gently in the wind. Katherine smiles. But the clouds pass quickly in front of her sunlight. I’ll never see her again. The realization is like a knife twisting through. I…
Forcibly shaking the thought away before it can consume him, Devin turns. Flames are spreading over the canopy toward the wings. Horrible screams echo across the cabin from those still stuck in the rear sections.
Devin gives the old man a final look of understanding before heading deeper into the debris. The advancing fire line moves steadily forward, feeding on everything in its path.
* * *
Seats and metal are caved in. They’re twisted together into an impossible cage. Debbie Yun and her daughter, Terra, are pinned to their chairs in terror. Squirming under the intense heat of the fire two rows back, Debbie winces. Wave after wave of throbbing warmth hit her skin.
“Help us!” she desperately screams, smelling the charred remains of others behind her not so lucky. “Please, God!!”
Debbie pushes and fights against the pieces that trap them, but nothing moves. Nothing even budges. She takes her daughter’s hand, tears of love and sorrow streaking down both their faces. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“Keep pushing,” Terra pleads.
Debbie screams in pain as the fire moves across the cabin wall next to her. Flames lap hungrily at their next victim. Heat blisters the plastic canopy sides.
“Hold on!” she hears. The British voice sounds like an angel flying through the smoke.
Devin lunges at the wreckage, twisting and pulling violently at the crushed pile of seats in front of them. The plastic gives slightly, but not enough. He turns, breaking a long shaft of metal off what’s left of a chair rail, and pries at the warped restraints. His back arches. His arms shake. The fireman strains with every ounce of his body.
Slowly at first, an opening forms as part of the debris finally bends forward. Just a little more…
The metal pole snaps, slamming Devin into the seats behind him.
“Take her!” Debbie screams. The searing flames continue to close in. Their heat is unbearable.
“No!” Terra yells.
Devin grabs the teenager’s arms and pulls at her. She screams, trying to twist her body through the small opening.
“Go, Terra!” Debbie cries.
The fire is one row back from Debbie now. It shoots up the cabin beside her. The intense heat begins to melt the designer handbag in Terra’s seat.
“Mom!” Terra screams, finally coming free. The plane window blackens and bubbles.
Devin and Terra pull with all their strength at Debbie’s arms, but her legs are pinned tight beneath the wreckage.
Waves of hot ash and flame overtake them. They gasp for breath as the
fire burns hotter and hotter. It steals oxygen and hope from the very air around them. Debbie looks back in panic, starting to scream out in pain. “Get her out of here! Please!”
“No, keep pulling!” Terra orders Devin. Her mother writhes in front of her breaking eyes. “Mom! Mom!!”
A sudden calm comes over Debbie. She looks deep into her daughter’s sapphire eyes. “I love you, Terra.”
Devin watches on in horror. “I’m sorry,” he says softly to Terra. “I can’t…”
The flames begin to eat away from behind Debbie, completely engulfing her within seconds. Devin releases the wreckage and grabs Terra, forcing her back.
“No!” Terra yells. “What are you doing? Mom!”
Flames surround mother and daughter’s hands, ripping them apart. Tears roll down Devin’s face. He backs away, covering Terra’s eyes as he pulls her with him.
“I’m so sorry, love,” he whispers.
“Mom! I love you…” Terra pleads.
Devin drags the teenager backward out of the plane. The girl screams out, her body racking with a pain far beyond grief. Beyond anger. She shakes with an inconsolable sadness, creating a void so deep in her soul that it cuts completely through her.
Light begins to grow brighter as they back out of the chaos. Piercing white washes over them, paired with the sweetest and coolest of spring breezes. Devin squints at the blinding light. He turns to help Terra down from the wreckage.
The aircraft’s fuel suddenly ignites behind them. The massive explosion buckles the plane upward, throwing survivors outside from their feet. The force is like a sledgehammer smashing into Devin. His head snaps violently back, tossing them both to the ground.
Pain courses through his body. Devin’s eyes flutter. He gulps for air, trying to refill his lungs after having the wind knocked free. Groggily, he crawls off the debris and pulls himself up. Smoke swirls all around.
Dark and stormy skies greet the survivors as rain falls onto remnants of the dead city. Devin shields his eyes, the burning sun soon blotted out by rising tendrils of smoke. The skyline is gone. Only broken girders remain, their skeletons clawing above the shattered horizon.
Chapter 11
Several flashlights kick on inside the KOMO newsroom. Dust rises through the shafts of light sweeping the room for life. Jonathon pushes away the ceiling tiles and broken fixtures lying on top of him, stumbling forward into the black. His feet trip over wreckage and wounds—stopping for neither. Unable to see anything else, Jon forces his way toward the flashlights’ serene glow.
The flickering has now stopped, but the stench of burnt electronics remains. Toxic fumes from the melted circuit boards spread through Jonathon’s lungs. He coughs violently, trying to get the metallic taste out of his mouth. The stink of silicon and flesh fill his mind. He covers his nose with the tattered sleeve of a four-figure suit coat.
The unmoving shapes of his friends and colleagues litter the floor all around. A faint glimmer of light catches his eye. Jonathon leans closer, seeing a bright reflection in the glasses of KOMO’s news director. The award-winning journalist is silhouetted against the dim spill of flashlights, lying where they were both standing just moments before.
Hearing Mitch moan, Jonathon pulls a shattered light off and throws it aside. Shadows deepen as the flashlights move around the newsroom. The blackness in Jonathon’s eyes seems to spread the more he focuses them, almost like staring into the edges of a black hole.
“I’m here, Mitch,” Jonathon says. He smears at the thick dust on his glasses and kneels down.
Jon lifts Mitch’s head with shaking hands, rolling him onto his back. He can feel Mitch cough weakly in his arms. “You’ll be alright,” Jonathon says. “Help is coming.”
“Come on! Over here,” he shouts, looking impatiently into the dark. Two triangles of light begin heading right towards them. Thank God.
Gently at first, Jonathon feels a hand on his right shoulder tugging from behind. “What the hell?” he shouts. Hands begin to pull harder from the shadows. “We need your help! Mitch may be hurt…” But Jonathon stops. His veins turn to ice.
Jon looks down at the growing pool of dark liquid he’s kneeling in. The dancing arc from a flashlight behind him sparkles in the dead eyes of Mitch Davis. A long gash runs across his neck, almost severing his round head.
Jonathon lunges backward. He trips and falls, scrambling back like an animal into the darkness. He stumbles over people and rubble—anything that separates him from the gleaming metal stairs. Cries for help from the injured race by him.
“Please!”
He hears nothing but his legs moving over the wreckage, crawling. Pulling. Jonathon begins frantically up the stairs.
“Please…”
As he reaches the first floor, he slams headlong into a wall of debris. Fear surges through him. I can’t breathe. Jonathon claws at the wreckage. Air catches in his lungs. The sounds of his own gasping bounce loudly back from the gravestone walls.
Splinters of light peek through cracks in the concrete and metal. Jonathon rips at the chaos, throwing pieces of lives behind him. Tears of panic spring into his eyes. He cracks the right lens of his glasses just to wipe them all away. Jon digs into the rubble with a desperate ferocity. I can’t breathe…
Hot rain drops hit the man’s skin as he crawls out into a changed world. His breathing slows—shock overcoming fear.
Jonathon struggles to his feet. He looks around at an obliterated landscape. Scraps of burnt paper fall like the snows of December all around. Just blocks from what used to be the Space Needle, Seattle’s greatest landmarks lie in pieces upon a scorched earth. Jonathon looks up. There is no sign of the top three floors of KOMO’s structure, nor the people who once occupied them. Only ruins and death surround as far as the eye can see.
A scrap of cardboard flutters gracefully through the sky before landing beside him. He pulls it out from under the edge of some broken concrete. Charred and bloodstained, it reads: THE END IS HERE. Slowly, the sign falls from his trembling hands.
Chapter 12
Stunned and bloodied survivors of Northwest flight 661 emerge from their plane’s smoldering ruins. Chunks of the airliner are scattered across the freeway. Through the rain, eyes search for lost friends or weep for family. Others look for possessions and answers. All scan the flaming wreckage for signs of hope.
Between the fused pieces of metal and vehicles, bags and their contents are strewn all along the asphalt. The possessions clutched so tightly in life now lie discarded upon the blackened ground.
Fire burns in pockets on the interstate. It ignites the husk of a car nearby, shooting fiberglass and aluminum through a small group of survivors huddling out of the rain. Their dying screams echo across the wasteland.
“Keep moving!” Devin yells to the cluster of people closest to him. Spinning blades from a plane turbine whine nearby.
No one budges.
The fireman starts shoving survivors back with his solid arms. Confusion and panic slow their feet. The gravity etched into his face convinces them otherwise.
Devin reaches down and lifts Terra from the ground. Her blue eyes stare straight ahead, lost in a broken infinity. “Come on.” Devin puts his arm around her, gently helping the teenager forward.
He spots a familiar frame towering well above the others. “We’ve got to get them all back,” Devin shouts to Chris. “There’s still fuel inside!”
Without warning, Isabel begins to clutch at her pregnant stomach. “Izz?!” Chris asks. He grabs the black duffel bag off her shoulder and pulls her body into him. Wincing, she caves into his arms.
“Nice to meet you, Izz. I’m a firefighter,” Devin says. He holds his hands out peacefully. “Do you mind if I check your baby?”
Isabel shakes her head. She tries breathing deeper to stop the throbbing pain in her abdomen, but it grows, squeezing against her insides.
“Can you tell me how far along you are?” Devin asks. He methodically tests the sides o
f the flight attendant’s stomach.
“Seven months.”
“Where does it hurt, love?”
“Right here.” Isabel moves his hand to hers. “I think it’s going away now…”
* * *
Terra crumbles to her knees beside them, looking deep into the madness around her. She vaguely registers Devin’s and Isabel’s voices. The murmuring of their words blurs together with the crackling of fire in her mind. She can feel the tongues of flame that took her mother — feel their searing touch beckoning. The welcome embrace of death is so eager to reunite.
God, let me die, she pleads up to the heavens. A single tear answers, briefly escaping her sapphire cage.
* * *
“You let me know if it starts to hurt again. Okay, love?” Devin says. His soothing accent can soften even the darkest of days.
He turns to shout back at the other passengers closest to the plane. “Everyone! You need to get back…”
Another explosion lights up the sky behind the cargo hold, rippling into the spinning turbine. The engine blades come apart. Deadly fragments hurtle into flesh and bone.
Cringing from the blast, new terror slices through with the shrapnel. The mob of survivors suddenly begins to run. They push at one another, fighting and scratching to escape the aftermath.
In the midst of the chaos, Devin calmly kneels. He takes Terra Yun’s small shoulders in his hands. The sounds and bodies swarming all around them fade away. “We’ve got to get away from here, child,” he whispers. His emerald eyes scream out the same hushed plea. “It’s still not safe.”
Slowly, Terra begins to leave that place of tragic memory and focus on the immediacy in Devin’s voice. She nods, feeling almost weightless as he pulls her up.
“Come on.” Devin puts his fatherly arm around her and strides into the pack. People and panic blur past them as they walk under the deepening rain.
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