by Alana Terry
And in the end, did it really matter? You would die from smoke as easily as from fire as easily as from an explosion. And of course, nobody would survive a crash from thirty-thousand feet. It was a morbid thought, but it was all Meredith could focus on.
“West!” Over the shouts of all the other passengers, Meredith heard the mom calling for her little boy.
Meredith felt like she was going to be sick. She tried to escape into one of the empty rows of seats when she heard a faint cough.
West?
She knelt down and scooped up the small form huddled beneath one of the chairs. “Come here, West,” she urged. “Come here. I’ll help you find your mommy.”
He held onto the seat cushion and wouldn’t let go.
“West!” Justine screeched from the other side of the aisle.
“He’s over here,” Meredith yelled before a coughing fit seized her own lungs. She tried again. “Over here.” Her voice was so hoarse, she couldn’t make herself heard.
“Mommy!” West was crying. Screaming. Coughing. At least he was under a seat. Away from trampling feet. Whether instinct or divine guidance, he was probably in one of the safest places he could be right now. Of course, if the plane went down, nobody would be safe, but Meredith wouldn’t think about that.
“I’ll go get your mommy.” She wasn’t sure West heard her. Wasn’t sure she had even heard herself. The smoke had reached the front of the cabin now. Nearly blinding. Meredith had to grope her way through throngs of sweating, screaming, crying passengers, pushing herself to the other side of the aisle where she heard Justine’s voice clearer than all the others.
“West!”
“He’s over here.” Meredith grabbed Justine’s arm when she reached the frantic mother and had to give a yank to get her to follow. “He’s over here,” she repeated and shoved her way, elbowing, pushing, pressing through the crowd to get Justine over to her son.
Dear God, Meredith prayed, please don’t let me step on anyone. The thought sent a wave of fear and revolt crashing through her stomach. Meredith tried to find some place out of the way where she could be sick.
“Baby.” Justine was on the floor by her son, who still refused to let go of the seat. It was probably a wise idea to stay low and out of the aisle. The plane lurched forward once more. Meredith knelt down by Justine who was cradling West in her arms and sobbing. She rubbed the young mother’s back. Patted West’s sweat-soaked hair. Wondered if reuniting this terrified child with his panicked mother was the last good deed she would accomplish before God ushered them all into the throne room of heaven.
CHAPTER 22
It was the rockiest landing Meredith had ever experienced, and based on the smell in the cabin that mingled with the acrid smoke, she wasn’t the only passenger who got sick.
Sirens. More clamoring. Meredith and Justine both used their bodies to shield little West from the passengers that jostled and tripped and fell into their row as everyone clambered to the emergency exits.
Passengers shouting. Rescue teams racing toward the injured. Meredith had to help a paramedic pry Justine’s arms from around her son so they could both get carried off the plane.
Meredith didn’t struggle when a woman grabbed her forearm. Her legs could scarcely support her weight, and she had to lean on her rescuer to the exit slide.
Her fall was broken by two men who easily hefted her onto a stretcher. She tried to tell them she didn’t need it, but as soon as her lungs took in their first real breath of fresh air, she was attacked by a coughing fit that left her unable to speak.
Someone threw an oxygen mask over her face, and she had the strange sensation that she was racing through space. The air was cold. Cold and crisp and miraculously, gloriously clean.
“You’re safe now,” a man told her. “You’re going to be all right.”
CHAPTER 23
Once the triage workers declared her healthy, the first thing Meredith wanted to do was get online. Let everyone know she was safe. But all the passengers were scheduled to complete interviews with federal agents and weren’t supposed to post anything publicly before they were debriefed.
An entire hospital ward had been transformed into a temporary trauma unit. From what Meredith could gather, two or three passengers suffered enough smoke inhalation to warrant transport to a different unit, but everyone else was being monitored here. A miracle, perhaps, that none of the injuries had been more serious. Meredith knew she should probably pray, but her spirit was too exhausted, let alone her body. Paramedics told her what symptoms to expect over the next few days. Many of the passengers were given freedom to leave after their debriefing but were still strongly advised to check themselves into area hospitals for overnight monitoring.
Meredith figured she’d skip that step.
All the carry-ons perished in the cabin fire. Meredith’s purse, her ID, her phone. Maybe it was a symbol of starting over. Still, she thought God could have proved his point far less dramatically.
She didn’t mind losing her suitcase. Her travel clothes. Her only regret was losing the journal with all her notes. Then again, she could always start dreaming again. Planning again. Just not until after she got a full night of sleep and a chance to let her body recover.
Meredith had no idea what she expected survivors of airplane hijackings to feel like, but whatever it was, it wasn’t this. Shouldn’t she feel relieved? Grateful? Something?
God, I’m feeling …
Hard as she tried, she couldn’t put a name to it. Tired? Scared? Shocked?
God, I’m feeling …
“Well, look who decided to drop out of the sky.” Something about the jocular voice made her turn around.
Blink. “Connor?”
He smiled at her. She blinked again. What was he doing?
“How did you get here so quickly?” She glanced out the window in the distance. She was still in Detroit, wasn’t she?
“Heard what happened,” he said. “Got the last flight out before they closed the airport down. That snowstorm is just terrible.”
Meredith tried to give a name to this particular emotion.
God, I’m feeling …
Connor leaned down to hug her. Meredith hadn’t realized she was so close to tears until after she soaked his shoulder. She pulled away, trying to feign a laugh.
“It’s okay,” he said. And she thought for a moment she knew exactly what he was talking about.
“Mommy, it’s her!”
Meredith’s heart had been racing since somewhere in the air outside of Detroit, but now it skipped rhythmically at the cheerful sound of a little boy.
“West!”
The child leapt into her lap as his mother hurried up behind him, laughing and apologizing at the same time. Meredith’s eyes locked with Justine’s, and there was an instant understanding. Meredith stretched out her arms, and in the tearful three-way embrace that followed she lost all track of time.
“He kept saying he wanted to find you.” Justine wiped her face, sitting down beside Meredith with West snuggling them both.
Meredith was so happy to see him safe and smiling she couldn’t stop touching him. Holding him. Hugging him. Thankfully, both he and Justine seemed to understand perfectly her need for this human contact. While they were in the air, Meredith thought it was her job to be strong and protective for West and his mom. But maybe she’d had it all backwards. Maybe God seated them together because he knew how much Meredith would actually need the two of them.
“He wants you to finish the Bible story,” Justine said.
Meredith gave a small chuckle. “Sure. I can do that.” She smiled at West, noted how clean his face looked, how happy his expression. Sweet, angelic innocence like a balm to her soul.
Meredith cleared her throat. “Should I start from where we left off?” she asked.
West nodded.
“Well. Once the three men refused to obey the wicked king, he told his men to p
unish them.” After all West had gone through, Meredith hated to give details about the fiery furnace, so she tried to gloss over that part as quickly as she could. She caught Connor’s expression as he stared down at her, smiling, and she blushed, embarrassed to admit that in her joy seeing West and his mother safe and sound, she’d completely forgotten he was there.
“The men were thrown into a big fire.” Meredith tested the words tentatively, wondering if they’d produce a flashback of terror. No. She was okay. So was West. She could continue.
“The fire was so hot, everyone thought the three men would get burned up right away, but do you know what? God protected them. He stood there in the fire with them and when they came out, they didn’t even smell like smoke.”
Smoke. Another trigger word. Meredith paused. No coughing spell. No echoes of terrified screams of passengers over the screech of the airplane fire alarm.
She was still okay.
And so was West.
Justine’s cell rang. “That’s Daddy.” Her face lit up, and she set West on his feet. “Come on. Let’s tell him we’re safe.”
Meredith watched Justine leading her son to a quiet corner and a calming peace settled over her heart.
“Make some new friends on the flight?” It was Connor. She hadn’t forgotten he was there, not exactly, but his voice still startled her.
“Something like that,” she answered.
He glanced at her awkwardly. “I’m glad you’re safe,” he said.
“Me, too.”
He rocked back and forth on his feet. “So, what happens now?”
Meredith glanced at the time. She had no idea how long these federal interviews were supposed to take. All she really wanted to do was take a shower and go to sleep. Forget today had ever happened.
“I’m supposed to answer some questions,” she told Connor. “There’s agents here interviewing everyone.”
He nodded. “What about after that?”
She shrugged. “I guess I find some place to clean up and get some rest.” She cocked her head to the side. Why was he staring at her like that?
He took the seat next to her, which made it hard to know where to look. Straight ahead? At him? At his feet?
God, I’m feeling …
He reached out for her hand. He felt so warm. So alive.
God, I’m feeling …
“As soon as I heard about your flight,” he said, “when you were up there in the air and I had no idea if you were going to survive or not, I realized something.”
She waited. Was her heart racing because of the smoke? Because of the trauma? Or something else entirely?
God, I’m feeling …
He cleared his throat. “I turned in my resignation to Living Grace.” It wasn’t the confession she expected to hear.
“Really?”
Connor nodded his head. His eyes were so deep. Had she ever noticed that before? Deep pools of compassion.
God, I’m feeling …
He was the first to turn away. “I just couldn’t stay there after the way they treated you.”
She blinked at him. Wondered at the curious sensation in the back of her throat. Symptoms from the smoke inhalation?
God, I’m feeling …
Connor let out his breath. Ran his hands over his pants. Gave a nervous chuckle. “This shouldn’t be as difficult as it is …”
His eyes rose to meet hers once more. “You and I aren’t working together anymore,” he stated. “Not in any professional way, I mean. Which means that we …” He let out a cough. Laughed at himself once again. Then leveled his gaze until she was certain she could see straight into the depths of his soul.
“Can I take you out to dinner?” he blurted. “I’ll wait as long as you need. I’ll stay here all night if we have to. Keep you company. Pray with you. I can’t even imagine how terrified you must still feel. But I want to be here for you. Want to help you …”
Her breath raced back into her lungs all at once, and she realized that the burning sensation in the back of her throat wasn’t from the smoke at all.
She blinked back tears. Glanced over Connor’s shoulder to where West sat happily on his mother’s lap, talking into a cellphone.
She took in a deep breath, stared into Connor’s eyes, and finally she could give a name to that feeling she hadn’t been able to identify before.
God, I feel hope.
And she’d never been more grateful to be alive.
***
I hope you enjoyed Refined by Fire, book 2 in the Turbulent Skies novella series.
If you’re ready to jump into more fast-paced, action-packed adventures featuring other characters aboard Flight 219, dive into Unreliable Witness, the next novella in the Turbulent Skies Christian thriller series today.
Justine’s not ready to fly home and face her past …
… but she’s not ready to watch her child die, either.
The Turbulent Skies series delivers a string of interconnected novellas about strangers traveling together aboard a doomed flight. Find out why Christian fiction readers can't stop raving about this unforgettable, fast-paced series you can devour in a single sitting.
Buy Unreliable Witness for an unforgettable high-altitude adventure full of danger, suspense, and life-changing faith. Click here to download your next binge-read immediately!