Impact

by Steven Whibley

  He lifted his hand like he wanted to grab and shake me. The silver box in his hand reflected a burst of sunlight. Realization flashed in Lisa’s eyes, and she lunged out and grabbed Nathan’s wrist. I’d seen her make the same move when Nathan was showing her how to use martial arts. She turned and twisted his arm up over her head. He gave a shout, but Lisa had him off balance. She threw him over her hip. His head hit the side mirror of a truck, hard, and he fell to the ground. He lay there, groaning. The silver box flew out of his hand and flashed in the air.

  Lisa stepped back. “Is he—?”

  “Grab it,” I yelled to Colin. We both lunged for the box, but it sailed over our heads, smacked into the bumper of the same truck Nathan had hit, and then clattered onto the pavement.

  I grabbed it.

  Too late.

  The whine of an engine started. I looked over at the woods and saw something metal lift up into the air. “It’s a drone,” I shouted. “Nathan planned to fly it into McKnight’s plane.”

  Grabbing for the remote, Lisa worked at the controls. Buttons were missing, and there was a toggle that was totally busted. “I think it’s broken.”

  Overhead, we heard a jet engine. “Look!” Colin shouted. He pointed to the sky. “That’s McKnight’s F-86.”

  Lying on the ground, Nathan groaned. I shaded my eyes, trying to see the drone. Birds scattered up from the woods. I saw sunlight reflect off metal. It looked like the drone was spooking the birds, keeping them in the air.

  “Lisa, see if you can crash that thing. Colin, come on. We have to get everyone out of the grandstands.”

  “I’ve got a better plan,” Lisa said. She took off at a run with the drone remote control. I was going to shout at her to tell me what she was doing, but there wasn’t time. I had to trust her. I did trust her.

  Behind me, I heard Nathan moaning again. He started to sit up and fell back, clutching his head. Then he threw up. Blood dripped down the back of his neck.

  A twinge of pity for him shook me, but he’d gotten himself into this. He gave a laugh and said, “You can’t change what’s meant to be. Maybe you’ll save McKnight, but he was a distraction. He’d be blamed, that’s it. You two are idiots. You can’t stop the explosion.”

  Head swimming, I looked at Colin. He stared back. “What explosion?” he asked.

  I lifted my hands, and Colin’s head shot up. Nathan’s gaze shifted for just a second—totally involuntary—and I followed the gaze until I saw what he’d done.

  “The trucks!” I blurted. “It has to be the fuel trucks. They’re close enough to the grandstands. He put an explosive on the drone, and if he put another one on the trucks—”

  Colin jabbed a finger toward the fuel trucks. I imagined if McKnight’s plane went down, and then, shortly after, the two trucks exploded, people would think they’d been struck by shrapnel. They very well could be. Nathan just took chance out of the equation. He’d rigged them. I was sure of it. They were definitely going to explode.

  Nathan gave another barking laugh. “Go ahead, be heroes,” he said. He started to push up to his feet, but Colin spun and kicked him, hard, and Nathan sprawled on the ground, unmoving, and Colin dusted his hands. “That’s for when you dropped me on my butt.”

  I grabbed Colin’s arm, and we started for the fuel trucks. “Come on, we don’t have time.”

  “No, wait,” Colin said. He pulled me the other way, toward the main gate. Was he thinking of leaving? I couldn’t believe it. But Colin slipped into one of the security carts. “My dad uses these on the studio lots all the time,” he said.

  I glanced at the security guards. They were talking to a vendor who’d come by to sell them cold drinks. They hadn’t even noticed our scuffle with Nathan. Colin flipped a switch, and the cart took off with a quiet hum. I launched myself into the seat next to Colin.

  “Electric. Sweet ride,” Colin said.

  We took off. Two seconds later, the guards shouted, and I glanced back to see them scrambling for the other security cart. “Punch it,” I ordered.

  Colin did, and the cart shot forward.

  I glanced up and saw the birds still in the air—a huge flock of them. The drone flying around with them must’ve somehow kept them scared. Suddenly, the drone took a nosedive. It crashed into a tree with a crack, and although that took care of the drone, the crash launched even more birds into the sky.

  “Lisa?” Colin asked.

  “I hope so,” I said. Colin wove in and out of the parked cars and headed for the fuel trucks. The guards missed a turn and hit a car. They backed up and started for us again. “Hurry.”

  “Going as fast as we can. These things aren’t Indy 500–ready,” Colin said.

  Even so, the wind bit into our faces. I leaned out, but I couldn’t see McKnight’s plane. I could hear the drone of his jet’s engine. “Where is he?” I asked. And then I saw the silver of his jet, turning and heading to fly over the woods.

  We reached the trucks and Colin skidded to a stop so fast that it flung me out of the cart. I rolled and shot back up to my feet. My elbows burned from losing skin, but I shouted out at Colin. “Two fuel trucks. Two of us,” I ordered. Colin climbed into one while I struggled up into the other and stared at all the controls. There were buttons and levers and dials. I didn’t know where to start.

  “How do you start these?” I yelled out.

  Colin smacked a lever by the wheel. “Ignore everything but this, just put it in gear and step on the gas.” He dangled keys from his window. “Keys were in the visor.” I checked the visor and found keys as well. I put it in the ignition, turned it, and glanced over my shoulder. McKnight was still headed for the woods and the birds.

  The jet pulled up in a sudden, fancy move. He must be dodging birds. But something happened. His engine sputtered and cut off. The silence sent a chill into me. McKnight’s plane wobbled and started to fall.

  “Gotta go,” I muttered and tried to start the engine. It grumbled and died out on me. I stretched my foot for the gas pedal. “Now … now!” I thought about Becky’s shark tooth. Maybe it wasn’t such good luck. It certainly hadn’t helped the shark. I turned the key again. This time, the engine roared. I heard Colin’s truck start as well. I grabbed the shifter and pulled it to the drive position. The truck lurched before I’d even touched the gas. When I did step on the gas pedal I was shocked how fast the huge truck moved. I turned the wheel and drove—anywhere farther away from people would do. The truck jerked forward. I skidded past the guys in the security cart. They spun their wheel and raced out of my way. I steered the truck away from grandstands and people. In my peripheral vision, I saw Colin doing the same. We were off-roading in fuel trucks that literally were going to explode. It was all I could do not to jump out and run screaming for cover.

  And then, I saw McKnight’s plane coming down. Nathan’s plan was working. Despite it all, it was working.

  We had to be far enough away by now, but I kept driving. Ten more seconds, I told myself. We were both headed away from the crowd across the grassy part of the airport—across the field right toward the grove of trees and, oh crap! McKnight’s plane pitched, and rolled, but in a way that seemed to be aiming for the same area we were headed. Clearly McKnight had seen the area as the safest place to crash, just like we had, and now he was doing what he could to maneuver his plane. If wreckage from his crash didn’t hit us, it was going to be close.

  That was it.

  As far as we could go.

  I laid on the horn, hoping Colin would hear it and get out of his truck. I slowed the truck I was driving just enough that I could throw myself out of the cab but kept it aimed for the grove of trees. I hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of my lungs. Colin must’ve known what I was trying tell him because, when I staggered to my feet, he was already sprinting away from the trucks—his was almost in the trees.

  I mustered all my strength and surged forward. Colin looked over his shoulder.

  “Run!” he screamed.


  I looked up just in time to see McKnight’s plane nosing toward the ground. Then it somehow leveled, and that’s when the first truck exploded. I had no idea how, or what caused it, but I imagined Nathan had rigged it with a timer of some kind.

  It was as if a four-hundred-pound linebacker had hit me square in the mid-back. I flew through the air and hit the dirt hard. Colin was beside me, coughing and choking, but we were both alive.

  We heard sputtering overhead, and then the aircraft slammed into the ground between us and the grandstands. A wing sheared off and pinwheeled through the air right toward the grandstands. I didn’t see it hit because that’s when the second fuel truck exploded, and the wave of heat that tore over our backs forced my face into the dirt.

  I heard screams and shouts—just like in my vision. I shut my eyes and clutched the shark tooth through my jeans.

  “Please … please … please …” I whispered. “Please don’t let everyone die.”

  And then, there was an instant of silence.

  The next second, sirens started up, and somehow we found the strength to get onto our feet. Colin’s eyes were wide, his face caked in dirt, and scratches covered his arms and neck. McKnight’s plane was on its side. The wing had impaled itself into the grandstands, and people were rushing around it—helping people who must’ve not gotten out before it hit. Fire had started around it. Breathing hard, Colin staggered over to me. And that’s when it happened. The red scratches on Colin’s face turned gray and the world around me became colorless. There was only one person I’d connected with that I was close enough to help at this point.

  “We’re not done yet,” I yelled at him. “Come on!” I ran for the plane.

  CHAPTER 20

  The plane burst into flames before we reached it. Black smoke swirled into the air. The stink of melted metal and burning fuel choked me. Beside me, Colin coughed. We hit the plane at the same time as four other guys, these ones wearing overalls. McKnight’s team or the team of some other pilot maybe. They were shouting orders to each other.

  Something is wrong with all of this, I thought. But I kept going.

  Security had forgotten about us. I could see uniformed men and women rushing with us to help. Babies cried, and I could hear the howling of people in pain. Slapping Colin’s arm to get him to follow me, I headed for McKnight’s plane. The heat hit me like opening an oven door. I pushed forward and could see McKnight struggling to get out of his plane. Fire crews arrived in engines. Guys geared up, jumped out, and pulled ladders from their trucks, and hoses started to spray a foam over everything, smothering the flames. Colin and I had the advantage—we’d been over every inch of McKnight’s plane.

  I grabbed hold of the wing. Even with most of the flames gone, the metal still burned my hands, but I hauled myself up. It wasn’t hard since the plane sat tipped at an angle; the other wing was gone. Colin climbed up after me and pulled out a pocketknife. We reached McKnight, and Colin went to work cutting the pilot free. It wasn’t until we were pulling him out of the cockpit that I saw his face: a mixture of black soot and blood, and foam from the firefighter’s hoses, that I realized my vision had cleared.

  He fought for breath, coughing uncontrollably. I dragged one of his arms over my shoulders while Colin took the other. We staggered with him to the edge of the plane’s wing. It was slick and none of us could keep our footing; the three of us tumbled off the wreckage in a heap. We were dragged away a second later to the opposite side of one of the fire trucks, where an ambulance crew immediately secured an oxygen mask over my face. I turned and saw them doing the same to Colin and McKnight. They clearly recognized McKnight as the one in the worst condition because they loaded him onto a stretcher. Blood streaked one of his arms, and there were several blood-soaked areas on his jumpsuit. But he was alive.

  “Colin! Dean!” Lisa shouted out.

  I saw her wave from the edge of the grandstand. She had hold of Maddie McKnight’s hand. The little girl was crying, and Lisa picked her up and held her. Colin and I ran toward her.

  “Good job crashing that drone,” I told her, coughing out black smoke.

  “You can thank Maddie and her walkie-talkie,” she said. She kissed Maddie’s cheek.

  Maddie wiped at her tears. “Daddy?”

  “He’s going to be okay,” Colin told her. He grinned at Maddie and then looked at Lisa. “What about her walkie-talkie?”

  “You want to tell, Maddie?” Lisa asked. Maddie shook her head so Lisa continued. “Maddie let me talk to her dad, so I could help him avoid most of the birds. I had a good view of what was happening.”

  I turned to see Mrs. McKnight kneeling by her husband.

  Putting two and two together, I told Lisa, “Seems like you’re the hero today.” She turned red from the compliment. I gestured to McKnight. “I think Maddie might want to see her dad, and I’ll bet he wants to see her too.”

  “Dean! Colin!” Archer’s shout caught my attention. He waved at us. “We could use your help, as in now!”

  “Go on,” Lisa said. “I’ll see that Maddie gets to her family.”

  Colin and I headed for where we could see Archer. It looked like the CS had been able to get a lot of people out of the grandstands. When we reached him, he patted us both on the back. “Good job leaving your phone on to record. We heard everything.”

  Blinking at the smoke in my eyes, I remembered leaving my phone in my pocket on record, like Archer had said we should. That had given the CS enough time to act. I let out a breath, and Archer said, “It’s mostly minor injuries, but let’s see what we can do to help.”

  Everywhere I looked I saw someone in uniform. Fire fighters, police officers, security, and EMTs trying to help people. For a little bit, it seemed like a mess of crying and hurt people, but eventually things were under control. Areas were set up to deal with those who’d been closest to the crash. The burns were the worst. A few bystanders cradled broken arms or lay still with bones sticking out of their legs. That didn’t look fun. I saw a guy spread a blanket over someone, covering that person’s face, and I turned away. I didn’t want to know if I had seen that person in a vision or not.

  The only person I’d been close enough to help had been McKnight, and he was alive. I let out a long breath over that.

  I heard a girl crying, and there was something familiar in the voice. I turned and saw dark brown hair with sun streaks. Rylee. Heading over to her, I saw she’d gotten stuck in some seats that had been twisted despite being a fair distance from where the wing had actually struck.

  “Rylee?” I called out, keeping my voice soft. She stopped crying. “What are you doing here? Are you hurt?”

  She shook her head. I held out my hand to her. Eyes big, she reached up and accepted it. I braced one foot against the seat that had her leg pinned, and pushed as hard as I could while pulling her with my arms. It didn’t move much, but it was just enough for her to get free. “Let’s get someone to look at you.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I don’t think anyone’s fine today. But I think most of us will be okay. Come on. I think they’ve set up cold drinks somewhere. I could use a lemonade.”

  I sat and drank water with her—no lemonade after all—until she seemed to relax her shoulders a bit. “I’m sorry about earlier,” I said. “I don’t know what came over me. I was … well, I was a jerk, and I’m sorry about that.”

  She managed a weak smile and then said her aunt brought her, so I went along to help Rylee find her.

  We found her aunt in one of the areas for those who had been hurt, but she wasn’t too bad, just a cut across her arm, so the medics wrapped it and told her to go to a hospital to have stitches. I promised to text Rylee tomorrow to see how she was doing and made her promise to go straight home.

  Leaving Rylee with her aunt, I started to go, but I saw Eric and Rodney sitting on a bench. Rodney was hunched over, his eyes kind of glazed. Eric looked up, and our stares locked.

  Eric’s face was wet, and hi
s eyes were red. He glared at me, so I turned away. I wouldn’t want Eric to see me crying, either.

  I made my way back to Archer. Smoke had darkened his clothes and streaked his face. Lisa and Colin had scored some sodas, and she handed me one.

  Archer nodded at me. “Just heard from Sarah. She’s okay. But we lost two members today. A total of five dead.” Lisa sucked in a breath. Archer reached out to her. “It could have been worse.”

  “Archer!” We all turned to see Hank Fallston weave his way toward us. Most of those who could go home had left, but a few, like us, sat around, some with blank faces like they couldn’t remember who they were. Or maybe they couldn’t remember where they’d parked their car. I knew the CS was already working to try and help folks get home.

  Hank headed directly at me, and I wondered if he was somehow going to make this my fault.

  However, he held out his hand to me. “Good job, Dean. All of you. I was wrong. You not only did your jobs, you did more than anyone could have asked of you.”

  Colin’s mouth hung open while Lisa smiled. I suddenly needed to sit down.

  “We’re keeping it quiet, but we found the grandstand pillars had been weakened in key places,” Hank said to Archer. “It’s why it’s so damaged, but it could’ve been a million times worse if the explosion had happened the way it was supposed to. The entire structure would have collapsed.”

  Okay, now I did sit down.

  Colin looked at me like I was supposed to say something, so I said, “That’s why Nathan wanted to stay away from the grandstands and from the fuel trucks. He had a safe spot picked out near the gates.”

  “And he actually wanted all the delays over the past couple days,” Hank said with great conviction. “Each intervention we put in place might as well have come right from his plan. The more delayed we were, the more CS members made it. He wanted to take out as much of the CS as he could.”