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Deconstruction- The Complete series Box Set

Page 47

by Rashad Freeman


  Grayson grabbed the seatbelt and pulled himself into a sitting position. His legs flailed in the air as the plane continued to bounce through the sky.

  “Buckle yourself in!” I yelled to him.

  “We’re twenty miles out!” Jack’s voice screeched over the intercom. “Out of fuel and we are going down. Everyone strap in!”

  Those words stole my soul. I could feel my heart leave my body as the wave of disbelief leveled me.

  Grayson’s face was drenched in fear, but he buckled himself in and dug his fingers into the arm rests. I wanted to run to him, but the plane was shaking so wildly it would’ve been suicide.

  “It’s okay Grayson!” I shouted. “Just stay in that seat!”

  Toby suddenly jumped up and unlatched his seatbelt. I grabbed his arm and pulled him back down.

  “He’s okay. If you try to get to him now you’re going to kill yourself.”

  “We can’t leave him over there alone!” Toby yelled.

  “Sit down!”

  The plane let out a piercing, shrill then pitched hard to the left and Toby slammed into the window. He caught himself on the seat back and groaned. As the plane started to barrel back to the right he begrudgingly took his seat and buckled the latch.

  We screamed through the air, racing past cliffs and jagged mountain peaks. I chanced a look out of the window as we got closer and closer to the thick, forests below. Loud scrapes and snaps echoed as the plane started to collide with some of the taller trees.

  “Toby!” I shouted over the sound of pieces breaking off. “Toby!”

  He looked at me with crazed eyes as his chest heaved up and down.

  “Toby, I’m pregnant,” I blurted out.

  He twisted his face and narrowed his eyes. “What?”

  The plane shook as we hit something hard and I was nearly thrown from my seat. The seatbelt yanked against my lap and I let out a groan. Toby grabbed my hand.

  “What did you say?”

  “I said I’m pregnant,” I bellowed.

  He took a few deep breaths then smiled. I kissed his cheek then looked back to Grayson.

  “It’s almost over!” I called out to him.

  There was another deafening boom and I whipped my head around and looked out of the window. The wing on our side was breaking apart. It smashed into trees as we sailed lower and lower, pieces jutting into the sky like confetti.

  A roaring crack exploded, and part of the fuselage tore away as the wing ripped off. There was nothing I could do, one second, I was looking for Grayson and the next I felt the cold rush of air as we spun into the sky.

  Time slowed down. Each piece of metal and aluminum slowly shredded like pieces of loose paper. An explosion of bitter air rushed over me while my head swam through the confusion.

  I caught a glimpse of the rest of the plane. Smoke spilt out of the wounded bird and we drifted apart, tumbling toward the ground like a runaway train.

  Flashes of images whirled past me, so fast they were indistinguishable from one another. It was like being on a merry-go-round that was moving at warp speed. The world had become a broken movie reel, burning through splices of mixed film. There was sky then ground, then there was nothing.

  CHAPTER 19

  THIS IS WHAT IT TAKES

  “They’re both dead,” a voice snapped angrily. “And I don’t care…I need it.”

  I felt a tug at my hand and someone grabbed my wrist, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t open my eyes and when I told myself to speak, nothing happened. All I knew was that I was in pain and I was scared.

  It was cold outside, and I could feel a light snow falling on my face. The wet ice stung but had a refreshing touch. There was a silence in the air, a purity like nature had finally reclaimed what man had taken. The cold quiet was everywhere and I just wanted to find my way out, find my way to the buzzing voices that mumbled in the distance.

  My mind slowly started to piece together what had happened and I remembered crashing. I remembered falling from the sky into darkness. I remembered Grayson’s eyes as my part of the plane ripped away from him. I remembered the pain as I sailed through the sky away from my child. I remembered Toby and the look on his face when I told him I was pregnant.

  There was rustling behind me and I felt a chill run up my spine. Something wasn’t right and I could sense the looming danger in the air, crackling like little bolts of electricity. I shivered and my leg kicked out on its own, but as much as I wanted to get up, I couldn’t.

  “See! She’s alive,” Cynthia yelled in an agitated voice.

  “Shut up!” Tim retorted.

  “Stop it, stop it now.”

  “Go look for other survivors, I’ll handle this.”

  Tim’s voice was close. It felt like he was shouting in my ear and I realized he was standing next to me. He was angry, but beyond that I could hear fear in his voice.

  He mumbled something else under his breath then tightened his grip on my arm and I felt the cold touch of metal against my wrist. I winced as the object pushed into my skin and sliced a narrow path. Warm blood trickled down my arm and fell to the ground.

  “What the hell is wrong with you, Tim? She’s alive damn it!” Cynthia shouted.

  “I told you to go look for survivors.”

  “I don’t think there are any more survivors. The rest of the plane crashed up there. It’s just us and I’m not gonna let you do this.”

  Tim started to laugh like a manic clown. “You couldn’t stop me if you wanted to. I’m not dying here, Cynthia! The Mayflower site is right over that fucking peak and they are leaving. If we don’t get their soon, we are gonna die here. MJ’s dead! Look at her! Hell, even if she was alive, she’s not gonna make it.”

  “So, you’re just gonna cut off her fucking hand? What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “I’m not fucking dying here!” Tim shouted again.

  I could tell from the breaks in his voice and the panicking quiver that he’d completely lost it. He sounded insane and I couldn’t even protect myself. I was a prisoner in my own body.

  “We can’t authorize the ship launch without her fingerprints, so yeah, I’m taking her hand damn it!”

  I felt a sharp pain as Tim brought the knife down in a quick slash, scraping across my arm, but missing his mark. Cynthia screeched then there was a loud thump and the sound of tussling.

  “You son of a bitch!” Cynthia roared.

  “I warned you,” Tim growled in response.

  I heard knuckles meeting flesh and Cynthia cried out. A series of thuds followed accompanied by whimpers and muffled screams. Then there was silence.

  “Stupid bitch!” Tim suddenly spat.

  I could hear him marching toward me again. I screamed for my body to move, to kick, to fight. But there was nothing. I was helpless.

  Grunting, Tim grabbed my hand and I tried to brace myself. I could imagine the knife swinging down like an axe. I could almost feel the sharp blade, cutting through my bone, cleaving my hand off. I knew this time he wouldn’t miss.

  “Sorry,” Tim grumbled and took a deep breath.

  Suddenly, a gunshot exploded in the air. I heard Tim groan then collapse to the ground beside me. There was a series of hurried footsteps then a sharp pain in my chest and I bolted forward.

  “Holy shit!” I snapped and opened my eyes to the blinding daylight.

  Cynthia was standing in front of me with a fierce gaze. Her eyes were wild and her face was covered in blood and riddled with bruises, but she looked ready for a fight. I glared at her then looked down at the mammoth needle that was buried in my sternum.

  My heart was pumping like a jet engine and the needle shook with every beat. A million thoughts rushed through my head, fleeting before I could focus on one.

  Tim was lying to the side of me, gasping for air. A bullet hole in his neck bubbled blood every time he tried to breathe. His eyes stared up at the sky, his face dawned with the realization that he was going to die.

  “Are yo
u okay?” Cynthia asked. “MJ…are you okay?”

  I took a few deep breaths and nodded. “What is this?” With shaking hands, I reached for the needle that was still embedded in my skin.

  “Adrenaline,” Cynthia replied and yanked the needle out.

  “I…I could hear it all. He was going to kill me. You saved my life,” my voice quivered.

  Cynthia frowned. “I’m so sorry,” she said then covered her mouth as tears rolled down her cheek.

  “What, what is it?”

  Sniffling, she looked to the right and I followed her eyes. The seat that should’ve been next to me, Toby’s seat, had come detached and was overturned a few yards away. I could see an arm sticking out from the mangled metal and right then it dawned on me.

  “My God,” I cried. “Toby…no!”

  Unlatching my seatbelt, I stumbled over the plane’s wreckage and rushed toward him. I pulled the seat over and fell to my knees as my legs lost the strength to stand.

  Toby’s face was dark and bruised, his eyes open, but empty. A slick of dense, dark blood glued his hair down. And his neck jutted out awkwardly where it had snapped.

  “Toby,” I mumbled as I reached out and touched his cheek.

  His skin felt cold and spongy. It sent goosebumps up my arm and made my stomach twist into knots. He was gone and in that moment my heart tore into a million pieces.

  I wrapped my arms around him and pressed his frigid skin against my own. I held him there, close to me, warming him with my own body heat.

  “Why baby, why?”

  The world spun madly, and my life flickered like a flame in the middle of a tornado. My head floated away, and every piece of my body ached. I didn’t want to walk, I didn’t want to leave his side. He was my everything and I couldn’t imagine life without him.

  But he was gone, and I knew that. And as the frigid air blew chills through my bones, I held my dead husband close and drowned my face in tears.

  “MJ,” Cynthia called after some time had passed. “We need to go.”

  “Go where? We don’t need to go anywhere” I snapped at her.

  “Your son, MJ. He could still be alive”

  I gasped. I felt my heart thump through my chest hard enough to break my ribcage. As much as I didn’t want to, I pulled my arms from around Toby and forced myself to stand. I’d already lost him, I couldn’t bear losing Grayson too.

  I stepped away from him and clenched my teeth so hard I thought they were going to crack. “Do…do you know where to start?” I asked in a quivering voice.

  Cynthia pointed to a place up ahead. The ground rose about twenty feet then leveled off and disappeared into a swarm of trees. Somewhere up there my son was alone and probably terrified. I knew I had to get to him.

  “Be careful,” Cynthia warned. “The ground isn’t very firm.”

  Sniffling, I nodded and followed her up the incline. Once we reached the top we followed a trail through broken branches and splintered tree trunks. With every demolished bit of land my heart sank a little more.

  Way ahead of me, past a snaking road of discolored snow, was a faint cloud of smoke. I raced past Cynthia, ignoring the pain in my knees and the burning in my chest. Cynthia called out as she fell behind, but I couldn’t slow down, I had to find Grayson.

  The closer I got the harder my heart punched. Pieces of the demolished plane became more recognizable and I could smell the burning jet fuel in the air. In the distance, I could see the tangled fuselage smashed between two massive trees.

  “No, no, no!” I screeched.

  Gritting through the pain, I took off running. I crashed through the rived timber as branches thrashed me across the face and slashed my arms like whips.

  “Grayson!” I shouted. “Grayson are you in there?”

  The right wing was completely torn off. The outer skin over the side that ripped, flapped in the wind like sheets on a clothesline.

  I slowed up as I approached and swallowed hard. There were dead bodies everywhere and pieces of the plane were still smoldering. Cynthia had brought me to a graveyard.

  Shaking, I walked around the plane and peeked inside of the cabin. The seats were torn from the floor and mangled all about. The metal had been warped with the impact and twisted together like braids of hair. Wires and broken framing dangled from the ceiling, intertwined with vines and pieces of trees.

  The rest of the team was dead. I didn’t see one sign of life and I fought against the panic that was building down in the pit of my stomach. Gritting my teeth, I moved through the torn opening.

  “MJ!” Cynthia shouted to me.

  She was just making her way through the scattered debris at the tail of the plane. She had a bag in her hand that she’d grabbed from the forest floor and every huff she took blew a stream of mist into the air.

  “I’ve gotta know,” I replayed.

  “I can help.”

  She joined me and crawled into the cabin behind me. Something hit me as soon as I stood up and I turned and vomited all over the floor. It wasn’t the smell of death that made me sick, but the idea that Grayson’s body could be somewhere in there.

  Inside it was dark and the fire had melted the snow, making the floor mushy and wet. Twisted branches and dense leaves had taken the place of the missing side. I narrowed my eyes trying to see, when suddenly a light burned behind me, blazing down the aisle.

  “I had one in my bag,” Cynthia said as she aimed the flashlight.

  I nodded and moved toward the back where Grayson had been sitting. I passed body after body, but there were empty seats that I knew had been occupied. That gave me hope, but the empty faces of my friends and coworkers ripped a hole that wouldn’t stop growing.

  “Do you see…can you find his seat?” Cynthia asked.

  I was staring at the missing section where Toby and I had been sitting. I nodded to the opposite side and hurried toward it.

  “Grayson! Grayson!” I screamed as we got closer.

  Snatching the light, I shined it over the rows of seats with baited breath. I looked under them and between them and behind them, in places no human could even fit. But they were all empty and in exhaustion I dropped to the ground.

  “God please,” I prayed and swallowed gulps of air like I’d just been pulled from the bottom of the ocean.

  My heart jittered and I rolled my fingers into fists as I fought against my own doubt. I didn’t know how much more I could take. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Toby and every time I opened them I wanted to see Grayson. They couldn’t both be gone, they just couldn’t be.

  “Maybe, maybe some of the survivors went looking like we did,” Cynthia whispered.

  Her voice echoed in my head like a whisper sent down an empty well. I felt hollow inside, I felt like I was falling down a dark hole, scraping my fingers against the jagged rocks on my way down. I felt helpless.

  “MJ,” Cynthia called again.

  “How long was I unconscious?” I raised my head and asked.

  “I’m not sure. It was all a blur really. I thought Tim and I were the only survivors. We probably spent half an hour looking before we found you. I…I haven’t seen anyone else.”

  “I don’t understand. You weren’t with us?”

  “Another section broke away…I don’t know. There were five of us, but only Tim and I were alive.”

  Sniffling, I wiped my face and stood up. “Let’s check the cockpit.”

  “What about the command room?”

  I looked toward the end of the plane at the door that closed off the command station from the rest. I doubted anyone could’ve been alive in there. The roof had caved in and the door bowed outward, but Cynthia was right, we needed to know.

  “We’ll check there then the cockpit,” I replied.

  It took us ten minutes to pry the doors open. Time that may have well been wasted, but I needed to be sure Grayson wasn’t on the plane before I left. With a final heave, we pulled the door apart enough to squeeze inside.

 
I went first and had Cynthia pass me the light once I could stand up. It was just like I thought. No one had survived inside.

  “You can stay out there. You don’t wanna see this,” I yelled back.

  “I’ll be fine, I’m a doctor.”

  “Like I said…you don’t wanna see this. But suit yourself.”

  I moved forward with the flashlight cutting a beam through the darkness. It would’ve been better if I’d looked without the light.

  The DOD had a fifteen-member team staffed in the command station. Not one of them survived. My only hope was that they’d died quickly.

  “Oh God!” Cynthia gagged as she stood up and started to look around.

  The impact of the crash had jarred loose monitors and equipment from nearly every panel. Some of the staff had been bludgeoned right where they sat. Others were victims of the broken glass and jagged metal that littered the room like flack.

  I turned and headed back to the opening. “Let’s go,” I told her. “This place is a cemetery.”

  Crawling back through the door, I made my way into the main part of the cabin with a feeling of defeat. I was overwhelmed with emotion, wishing it was all a bad dream that I’d wake up from at any moment.

  “Come on,” I said and reached out to Cynthia.

  She took my hand and I helped her to her feet. With a groan, she brushed off her pants and doubled over. She was trying, but I didn’t think she’d led a very active life.

  “Are you okay?” she asked me as she straightened up and our eyes met.

  “Not really…who would be?”

  “I mean…you’re bleeding.”

  “What?”

  Cynthia grabbed my shirt and I looked down. There was a darkening wet spot of blood that I hadn’t noticed. I rubbed my hand across then lifted it up.

  My side had a long scrape running diagonally like a jagged river. It wasn’t bad, but blood was slowly seeping out, staining my clothes. Lowering my shirt, I tried to hide the worry on my face.

  “I’ll be okay,” I grumbled.

  “Hello,” a faint voice suddenly called from the front of the plane.

 

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