Code Black (12 page)

“Keith?” Donovan pointed to the people who lay on the floor. “Let’s see if we can untangle these guys.”

“This one first.” Keith moved toward a man in a business suit. His face was contorted in a mask of fear. They had to pry his dead hand from the wrist of another passenger. “Let’s get him up and put him in that empty seat.”

Donovan recognized the corpses; they were the men who had attacked the young flight attendant who had come to help them. They’d ripped her mask away, and had paid for their panic with their lives. He grasped the first one by the collar and pulled him into a sitting position.

“There’s a pilot up front, right?” Keith ventured as he kneeled to grasp the dead man’s twisted legs.

“Yes,” Donovan replied. He was thankful Keith was a big man. “Ready, lift.” Both men groaned as they heaved the corpse into a vacant seat. Audrey pulled the victim’s hands into his lap, and then strapped him in with the seat belt. “Now him,” Donovan said, indicating the next casualty. They wasted no time in clearing the aisle. Donovan’s revulsion at handling the bodies diminished as they worked.

“How long before we land?” Keith cupped his hands together and blew into them for warmth.

“I’m not sure.” Donovan said, vaguely. “But trust me, we’re going to land as soon as we possibly can.”

Audrey inspected several of the other passengers. Donovan watched as she felt for pulses and lifted their eyelids. She turned to him and shook her head. He could tell from her hopeless expression that all of these people were dead.

She looked up to where the oxygen masks should’ve dropped, but for some reason didn’t. “They never had a chance.”

“We were up at high altitude too long,” Donovan said to no one in particular. He knew he wasn’t responsible, but the fate of the passengers still weighed on him.

“You saved us all by getting up to the cockpit,” Audrey said. “We’d all be dead if it weren’t for you.”

“What about those people?” Keith tilted his head toward a section where the masks had dropped; rows of people sat motionless with yellow rubber cups still fastened to their faces.

“I only checked a few of them,” Audrey said. “Some are alive, but I don’t think all of them are. I tried to wake them up—but couldn’t. I don’t know what to think.”

Donovan shook off his feelings of helplessness and decided he should get back up to the flight deck with John as quickly as he could. “We need to organize a search for more cell phones.”

“I tried the phones back here,” Audrey offered. “John was right; they’re worthless.”

“We figured as much,” Donovan forced himself to tune out the bodies as he decided what to do next. “We’ll have to do this the hard way. I think we should start in the back of the plane and work our way forward. That way we’ll keep it organized and not have to do this more than once.”

“I have a cell phone in my briefcase,” Keith said. “Why do you need it?”

“The radios in the cockpit are damaged. They don’t work.”

“You’ve got to kidding!” Keith exclaimed. His eyes grew wide. “I’ll have to go look for it; I couldn’t find my briefcase after I woke up.”

“Donovan, are you coming?” Audrey had started aft with Keith.

“I’ll be right there.” Donovan knelt and used the back of his hand to wipe away the frost that had formed at the edges of the plastic. He carefully studied the right wing, and then moved to several different windows to get a complete view of both the wing and engine. With a single-minded effort, he ignored the bodies and focused his attention outside. He found nothing out of the ordinary, which was a relief. But when he moved across the aisle to the left side, the damage was obvious. The leading edge of the wing, out by the wing tip, was smashed. The outer six feet looked like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it. It was no wonder the airplane flew so poorly. Thankfully, he found no fuel leaks.

Donovan finished his appraisal of the wing and moved aft. He passed another section of the cabin where the masks had dropped. As before, the passengers sat in their seats, eyes closed, perfectly still. The rubber jungle created by the dropped masks swayed and danced in the wind. It gave Donovan the impression of some sort of bizarre hospital room. He spotted the woman he’d helped before he’d gone to the cockpit. She was sitting with her head against the side of the plane, the male passenger who had tried to rip the mask from her was slack-jawed, his face gray and lifeless.

Donovan could almost picture the scene. Those passengers with masks would have had a minimum amount of oxygen at first. But after the canisters depleted, they simply passed out. Audrey was right; some of them were probably still alive, but perhaps in body only. There was every possibility that they’d suffered brain damage. He turned away and tried not to think about the fact that the damage was most likely permanent. With a good idea of the damage to the Boeing, he joined the others at the back of the 737.

“Find one yet?” The wind was less of a factor back here. Donovan had to raise his voice only slightly above the slipstream. It also felt warmer. He guessed that the normal hot air used to heat the cabin wasn’t affected by the electrical system. They wouldn’t be able to adjust the temperature, but at least there was some heat.

“I’m still looking.” Keith was down on all fours, searching.

Audrey leaned in close so Keith couldn’t hear her. “How’s John? Do you think it’s a good idea to leave him up there alone?”

“I think it’s okay. He seemed to be pulling himself together.” Donovan hated the proximity with Audrey and moved away from her to help Keith look for a phone.“ I found it!” Keith held his phone up in the air as he got to his feet. He flipped it open and checked that it still worked. “Sorry. I’m afraid there isn’t much battery left. I used it a bunch before we took off from Washington.”

“It’ll get us started,” Donovan said. He looked over Audrey’s shoulder, surprised to see a figure moving in the rear of the plane. The small frame was covered with a blue blanket. As he moved closer, Donovan could see that it was a young woman. She turned and looked at them, it was the flight attendant he’d saved earlier. Donovan could still picture the brutal assault she’d suffered at the hands of the crazed passengers.

“She’s hurt pretty badly,” Audrey offered as she turned to see what he was looking at. “I think maybe her collar bone and shoulder are both broken. She can’t move her arm at all.”

Donovan was unsettled by the pain-filled expression on the flight attendant’s face. She couldn’t be a day over twenty-five. She looked up at him; and struggled to focus. The fat lip and the swollen bluish marks on her young face testified to the trauma she’d endured. Donovan moved back to where she sat, Audrey following close behind.

“Christy,” Audrey began. “This is Donovan. He’s the one who saved you.”

“Thanks,” Christy mumbled through swollen lips, blinking as tears overflowed and raced down her face, her pretty features nearly hidden by her tousled blonde hair. “I don’t remember much of what happened.”

Donovan frowned, he wondered if she’d simply blacked out or if she’d suffered a concussion. “What you tried to do after the impact was very brave.”

“I’m all that’s left of the cabin crew? Maria and Susan are gone? What about John and Jeff, are they still flying the plane?”

“John is fine but Jeff didn’t make it.” Donovan answered her question truthfully. If it were him, he’d want to know about the people he worked with.

Christy pursed her lips bravely at the news. “I can’t believe the passengers attacked me.” She winced as she tried to move, then put her head back and surrendered as the pain overwhelmed her. Quietly, she closed her eyes and began to sob.

Donovan’s heart went out to her, she was not only injured, but trying to grasp the fact that her coworkers were dead. He hadn’t lost anyone aboard the plane that was close to him, but Donovan knew all too well about losing friends and loved ones to tragedy. It was a feeling he wouldn’t wish on anyone.

“I’m going back to the cockpit.” Donovan saw Audrey nod in understanding. A part of him wanted to stay and help the survivors. But his job right now was on the flight deck with John.

As Donovan made his way through the wrecked cabin, he jammed his hands in his coat pockets and lowered his head against the cold. He bent down to avoid the worst of the air pouring in from the outside, his teeth began to chatter and his shoulders shuddered as he drove against the wind. Another thought occurred to him. Usually there was no way to see the rudder of an airliner from the inside. But if he could look out through the rip in the roof, he might be able to check the condition of the vertical stabilizer. Positioned against what remained of the forward bulkhead, Donovan looked aft. It was so unnatural to be seeing through the top of the plane. From his angle he could only examine part of the tail, though it didn’t look right. He quickly decided that a mirror might allow him a better view.

Donovan thought for a second. The closest mirror was in the forward lavatory. He pulled open the door. On the floor of the small compartment lay the body of a passenger. Donovan, surprised, stepped back at the sight of the corpse. The man had been nearly decapitated. It wasn’t hard to picture how violently he had met his end. The bulkhead had caved in from above and the sharp aluminum had cut him down. Donovan briefly considered that this man probably saved Audrey’s life. If he hadn’t have occupied the forward lavatory, she wouldn’t have been forced to go aft. This could easily have been her body he was looking at. Donovan turned away and surveyed what was left of the small enclosure. The impact had destroyed virtually everything. He spotted a soda-can size piece of the mirror that he thought might work.

He closed the door reverently, then positioned himself and mentally prepared himself for what he wanted to do. He moved directly into the worst of the wind and held up the mirror. The sleeves of his coat snapped tight in the rush of wind, the fabric fluttered wildly, making it difficult to hold the mirror steady. It took him several seconds of adjustments to find the correct angle. He blinked as he tried to orient himself to the reverse image, his tears instantly froze onto his skin and he found it difficult to draw a full breath. Despite the dangerous cold, he processed the reflection, at first not believing what he’d found, but he quickly realized the mirror wasn’t playing tricks. The damage to the vertical stabilizer was no illusion. Part of the fin had been sheared off.

Donovan ducked out of the slipstream and immediately cupped his hands to his mouth and exhaled warm air onto his frozen fingers. He finally caught his breath, flexed his hands several times and then gently peeled away the ice from the corners of his eyes. He fought off the lingering effects of the cold and collected himself. Once he felt as if his joints worked, he moved under the sharp metal and headed forward. The good news was that he hadn’t seen any fuel leaks. The bad news was that the damage to the Boeing was so severe, that this airplane could rip itself apart with little or no advance warning.

CHAPTER TEN

Lauren followed Henry as they ran up the last few steps to the tower cab. She’d managed to catch her breath in the elevator as they rose seventeen floors above the terminal.

Lauren checked her watch. They had a few minutes to spare before Donovan was scheduled to call them back. They burst into the cab and all eyes turned toward them as they moved into the small compartment. Lauren took in the scene around her. Instead of a panoramic view of the surrounding area, the world outside the windows was an opaque, gray nothingness as snow beat mercilessly against the thick glass. She’d expected the place to be teeming with activity; instead, it was eerily quiet. The few people who manned their stations looked up expectantly at her and Henry. There was no conversation.

“I’m Henry Parrish, this is Dr. Lauren McKenna. Has 880 called yet?”

“No. Not yet. I’m Wayne Koski, tower supervisor.”

Lauren shook Wayne’s hand. He was a short man with a slight build. He sported a sparse beard and wire-frame glasses that made his brown eyes appear too large for his narrow face. Lauren quickly took in the scene around her. She’d never been in a control tower before and some of what she saw was a mystery, but she easily recognized the radar screens and radio equipment. Other instruments and screens were stationed in clusters at what she guessed were different duty positions. Lauren understood that there was probably a highly organized system at work here, but at the moment it made no sense to her at all. With an emergency in progress she fully expected more commotion, but the only sound was that of the wind and snow howling against the broad expanse of glass that surrounded them on all sides.

“We do think we have them on radar.” Wayne moved over to where a woman wearing a small headset was intently watching the never-ending sweep of her scope.

“This is Kate.” Wayne gestured to a pear-shaped woman with curly brown hair. Kate glanced up and nodded at the visitors. She wore a serious expression that seemed incongruous with her cherubic features—a face more cute than beautiful. “She’s been tracking a primary target since we got your call. It’s the only plane out there. Everyone else has finally departed the holding patterns and diverted to their alternates. We’re usually in the middle of our Friday, late-afternoon push about now, but due to the storm everything has ground to a halt. We haven’t talked to an airplane in the last twenty minutes. The visibility is so low right now no one can land or take off.”

“How do you know it’s flight 880?” Lauren leaned over and tried to find the tiny blip on the green backlit screen.

“I don’t, for sure,” Kate explained. “But it doesn’t have a working transponder; otherwise I’d be getting a data block from the airplane. I’d be able to read its speed and altitude. This is just a raw return, the radar energy bouncing off the metal of the plane. If it’s not them, then someone else is out trying to fly in this mess, and I highly doubt that.”

Lauren finally saw the target Kate was watching. It seemed so small and insignificant. Henry’s cell phone sounded and he moved away to take the call. Lauren tried to orient herself but couldn’t. “Which way is North? In fact, how can you guide the airplanes if you can’t see out the windows?”