CHAPTER FORTY-THREE MAKAYLA
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
M AKAYLA
The floor tilts to a steep angle. Makayla stumbles sideways down the aisle and grabs a seat back to stay upright. A sharp crack comes from the rear of the plane, followed by a loud rush of air that sends a knife into her ears. Screams and panicked cries resound through the cabin over the loud rush of air coming from inside the lavatory. Britt rushes into the rear cabin as the standing passengers scramble for their seats to put on their oxygen masks.
Makayla runs up the sloped aisle and hurls her side against the lavatory door.
“Liam!” Makayla screams.
The door budges an inch before someone on the other side shoves it closed. The floor drops, throwing Makayla—and every standing passenger—into the air. Her head hits the ceiling with such force that her whole body rolls upward, smacking her spine. She hits the aisle floor face down. Derek lands beside her as screams of terror erupt throughout the plane.
She claws at the closest armrest and drags herself to her feet. As Derek gets to his knees, blood drips from a gash on his temple. Makayla throws herself against the lav door.
“Help me get it open!” she shrieks at Derek.
Derek stumbles backward after standing. He pushes against the bulkhead wall to regain his balance and yanks her away from the door. “You need to get an oxygen mask on!” he yells.
Britt scurries toward them from the rear, wearing a clear plastic mask over her mouth and nose, carrying two portable oxygen tanks. She stops to pull a dazed passenger to his feet and help him into the nearest seat while he frantically grapples for the dangling oxygen mask. When she reaches them, Derek releases Makayla’s arm and takes one of the tanks, pulling a mask identical to Britt’s over his face.
Makayla shakes her head. “Not until I get Liam!”
An overhead announcement drowns out Makayla’s voice.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We experienced a sudden loss of cabin pressure and are making a rapid descent to a lower altitude. We are in full control of the aircraft, but it appears our left elevator is not functioning properly, so our pitch control may cause it to be more bumpy than normal. Please don your oxygen masks, fasten your seat belts, and comply with the crew’s instructions.”
Makayla throws herself against the door again. It shakes without opening.
She turns to Derek, yelling over the shrieks and cries of several passengers. “I need your help!”
Derek swipes his hand through the air. “Move aside.”
Makayla retreats as Derek charges at the door, slamming his shoulder into it with the full weight of his body. The door flies open. Derek falls forward, disappearing into the lavatory.
Makayla rushes inside behind him, eyes bulging in terror at what she sees. “Noooo!”
The floor is wet, causing her to slip before she catches herself. The temperature has dropped significantly, but Makayla barely notices. She stands frozen in horror, unable to move, gaping at Derek’s head hanging out of a large hole in the wall above the toilet, exposing a thin layer of plastic and aluminum inside the wall of the plane.
Oh, God. No. Please, no. Let this not be happening. Let them not have taken Liam with them. Suddenly, the plane dips, lifting Derek’s feet off the floor. Makayla lunges for his ankle. Rain blows against them through the opening like a sprinkler.
Derek screams something that Makayla can’t make out over the roar of wind. He presses his hand against the sawed side of the hole. The plane lurches. His hand slips. He’s sucked forward, his head and shoulders disappearing out the side of the plane. His legs slide forward, pulling Makayla with them.
Britt pushes into the bathroom behind her.
“I can’t hold him!” Makayla cries.
The plane tilts to the left, and Makayla topples toward the opening. The wind howls in her ears as the force of the suction—and Derek’s weight—drags her toward the hole. Britt’s hands encircle Makayla’s upper arm, but she’s not strong enough to hold Makayla back against Derek’s weight. Both women’s feet slide across the floor, wet from the rain.
“Let go!” Britt screams in her ear as the weight from Derek’s ankle jerks Makayla’s hands outside of the plane.
The floor shakes beneath them. Britt releases Makayla’s arm. Instead, she grabs her waist and tackles Makayla to the ground as Derek’s leg slips from her grip.
“Derek!”
She and Britt fall against the lavatory door, pushing it open. Makayla gapes at the hole and the dark sky beyond.
“You couldn’t have saved him!” Britt yells. “If you’d held on any longer, you would’ve gone too.”
Makayla grabs a bar on the wall and pulls herself up as the plane plummets in altitude. She ignores Britt screaming at her to stay back and shoves herself off the edge of the sink to stand on the angled floor, climbing over Britt to get to the hole. A six-inch saw blade attached to what looks like an electric shaver protrudes from the waste bin beside the lavatory sink. The shaver is wedged firmly through the waste bin’s spring-loaded lid. A cord waves wildly as the winds buffet it, barely connected now to an electrical outlet.
She kneels on the slick toilet seat cover and grips the sheared thin layer of plastic. Loose strands of wet hair from her ponytail blow wildly in front of her face, impeding her vision along with the rain. She starts to lean her head out of the hole and is sucked forward by the force of the wind. Instinctively, she draws her head back inside the plane, leaning back to combat the suction, but doesn’t move from the hole.
“Derek!”
Britt’s hand clutches her lower leg. Makayla shakes her off, blinking rapidly to see through the gust of rain and cold wind.
“Liam!”
Britt tugs on her sweatshirt. “Stay back!”
The floor tilts, and Makayla falls backward. She twists to shove the flight attendant away. “I have to see if they took him!”
Makayla lunges forward, trying to lean her head out the gaping hole a second time, her eyes filling with tears from the blast of frigid wind. The aircraft vibrates, and Makayla grips the sawed aluminum on the edge of the opening, ignoring the pain in her palm as it cuts into her flesh. There is only the faintest amount of daylight, and she strains to see below. To her lower right, lights flash on the end of the large wing, strobes of red and white reflecting off the heavy rain and patches of clouds that whiz past.
Just imagining Liam going out of the plane, falling to the ground amid these severe elements, makes her dizzy.
Below, all she can see is the glow of scattered lights in the distance among a blur of darkness. No sign of Derek. Or her baby.
“Liam!”
The force of the wind drowns out her voice. She gulps for air. How long would they have until they hit the ground? Would they feel anything? Were they already dead? She imagines the gut-wrenching terror Derek must’ve felt while free-falling to the ground. At least little Liam wouldn’t know what was coming. The thought of him falling from the sky fills her with so much panic it feels like it might kill her.
In the distance, a bolt of lightning lights up the sky. Britt grabs her arms and tugs. Makayla grips the sheared aluminum, resisting her weight. Britt yanks harder. Makayla tightens her grip on the wall opening, the metal slicing into her wrist. Blood seeps from her palm. The plane bounces and her hand slips. She tumbles forward as the nose of the plane lifts. Britt’s arms wrap around her middle. The plane tilts to the right, raising the left wing toward the sky.
Makayla’s knee slides off the toilet seat cover as she’s thrown backward, landing on top of Britt in the open doorway to the lavatory.
Britt keeps her arms cinched around Makayla’s waist as they’re propelled against the floor from the g-forces of the aircraft’s steep climb. The plane drops suddenly before leveling out. Makayla struggles to free herself from the attendant’s hold, but her strength seems to have left her body.
“Let go—I have to help him! He’s my baby!”
“We don’t know that your baby was with them.”
Makayla spins to face her. “Yes, we do!”
Britt doesn’t argue. She knows that Makayla’s right. “Okay, but you can’t help him if you’re dead.”
The floor spins. Makayla takes quicker breaths to try and steady herself. Britt releases Makayla, and she slowly gets to her feet.
Makayla falls against the opposite lav door, and Britt grips her by both shoulders. “You’re going to pass out. Come get an oxygen mask on.”
Makayla digs her heels into the floor when Britt tries to lead her up the aisle. “I can’t. Not yet.”
Britt brings her face toward Makayla’s. “There’s nothing more we can do now!”
Despite the flight attendant’s proximity, Makayla can barely hear her over the roar of wind blowing into the lavatory.
She shoves Britt’s shoulders and pivots for the hole in the wall, catching a blurry glimpse of herself in the lavatory mirror. Maybe they had parachutes. This was obviously very planned out.
“I just need to look again.”
As her vision dims, she sways on the unsteady floor. She blinks repeatedly, falling against the wall. Her heart crashes against her chest. She breathes faster, staring at the blurred hole in the plane.
My baby. Liam. Gone.
Pain stabs at the front of her skull. Breathe. Just breathe.
The floor rolls beneath her like a wave. Please, God, let my baby be alive. Let him— The lavatory spins. She stumbles forward.
A pair of arms wrap around her waist, dragging Makayla backward until she smacks her head on the opposite lavatory door. The plane nose-dives toward the ground, and Makayla slides to the floor, her head coming to rest between Britt’s navy heels. She fights to get up, but her body isn’t responding to her commands. Britt crouches over her.
Through her darkened vision she can see the attendant’s lips move like she’s yelling, but she can’t understand what she’s saying. She turns her head toward the lavatory. I have to go back and look again. Help me up! But the words won’t reach her lips.
She reaches toward the accordion lavatory door, which is flapping wildly from the wind howling through the hole in the side of the plane, as everything goes black.