On A Wing And A Prayer Part 13

"s.h.i.+t!" Ca.s.s exclaimed. "Why they insist we fly in weather like this is beyond me," she commented out loud.

"Anything for the almighty dollar, Ca.s.s," Brian said.

Ca.s.s reached for the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen. Please fasten your seat belts and stow away all loose pieces of luggage, we are experiencing turbulence at this time," she said before clicking off the microphone and hanging it back up. "G.o.d d.a.m.ned weather!" she exclaimed as the plane was tossed around.

Suddenly, a loud crash was heard as the plane shuddered and dropped slightly in alt.i.tude.

"What the f.u.c.k!?" Brian exclaimed.

Quickly checking the controls, Ca.s.s determined that they had indeed lost alt.i.tude, and that one of the rudder controls was not functioning. "s.h.i.+t!" she exclaimed. "I think we've been hit!"

"Hit? You mean by lightning?" Brian asked stupidly.

"Of course by lightning ... what else could we hit up here, a UFO?" she said sharply, suddenly thinking of Rox. "d.a.m.n!" she added before reaching for the microphone. As far as she could tell, the closest airport was in San Diego. "Okay, Ca.s.s, don't panic," she told herself as the door to the c.o.c.kpit flew open.

"What happened!" shouted a very upset Ginny.

"We've been struck by lighting, Ginny, make sure the pa.s.sengers are secure," Ca.s.s instructed. Ginny stood there, immobilized.

"Now!" Ca.s.s shouted as Ginny turned and left the c.o.c.kpit in a hurry.

"Brian, hold her as steady as you can," Ca.s.s said as she reached for the microphone and switched the radio over to the emergency channel.

"Jesus Christ, Ca.s.s ... Jesus Christ!" was all Brian could say as he struggled to keep the plane level.

"Mayday, mayday. This is flight 203 out of San Jose, California on route to Durango, Mexico. We have been struck by lightning. I repeat, we have been struck by lightning," Ca.s.s said in a voice much calmer than she felt.

"Flight 203, this is the San Diego airport, we have you on radar, please state your condition," the radio crackled.

Ca.s.s closed her eyes and thanked the G.o.ds. "We are losing alt.i.tude and rudder control. As far as I can tell, we have been hit on our right wing section," she said, looking out the window on Brian's side of the plane and seeing ragged pieces of metal where the wing tip used to be. Suddenly, another jolt hit the plane, causing it to drop sharply. Ca.s.s dropped the microphone and grabbed the controls, helping Brian to stabilize the plane. Afraid to release the controls for any length of time, Ca.s.s quickly switched the microphone onto the speaker box so that she could talk without using her hands.

"Flight 203, we show a sudden drop in alt.i.tude. What is your condition," the radio crackled again.

"We've been hit again, San Diego," Ca.s.s said. Checking out the controls, she realized they had very little control over the steering. "Looks like ...."

In the middle of her explanation, the c.o.c.kpit door swung open again, admitting a panicked Ginny. "Oh my G.o.d, Ca.s.s, we're going to die!" she screamed.

"G.o.d d.a.m.n it Ginny. You're supposed to be seeing to the pa.s.sengers. Now pull yourself together and get your a.s.s out there!" she shouted to the woman. Once again, Ginny turned and left.

"San Diego," Ca.s.s said, getting back to her damage report. "We have lost directional control. It appears we have been hit again, this time on our tail fin." she explained.

"Flight 203, you are approximately 90 Miles north of the San Diego airport. If you can continue along this flight path and maintain your alt.i.tude, your arrival time should be approximately 20 minutes," came the crackle. "We are preparing emergency crews for a potential crash landing."

"On a wing and a prayer, we'll make it" Ca.s.s said under her breath. Turning to Brian, she said, "Okay, Brian, we need to hold her as steady as possible. All we need is twenty minutes."

Reaching up, Ca.s.s switched on the microphone to the airplane's pa.s.senger cabin. "Folks, this is your captain, speaking. As I'm sure you are aware, we have been hit by lightning. We have radioed the airport in San Diego and are now flying with that destination in mind. I ask that you remain as calm as possible, and to stay seated and securely belted into your seats. In the event of a crash landing, you will be instructed to remain seated and to lower your head into your laps, wrapping your arms around your legs. In the event of an ocean landing, your seat cus.h.i.+ons can be used as flotation devices. Our estimated time of arrival is 20 minutes. Once again, please remain calm. We will do our best to land the plane as safely as possible. Thank you."

Taking a deep breath, Ca.s.s looked over at an ashen faced Brian, who was holding onto his controls with white knuckles. He glanced at her and smiled nervously. "We're gonna make it, right Ca.s.s?" he asked hopefully.

"We're certainly going to try Brian," she said.

Fifteen minutes later, they were making their descent into the San Diego airport.

"So far, so good," Ca.s.s said as she reached for the landing gear. Nothing happened. "s.h.i.+t!" she exclaimed. "No landing gear. G.o.d d.a.m.n it!" she shouted. Reaching once again for the radio, she reported their latest failure. "San Diego, this is flight 203. We have landing gear failure. I repeat, we have landing gear failure. Please be prepared for a crash landing."

"We read you, flight 203. Emergency preparations underway," came the voice from the radio.

Ca.s.s stared straight ahead spotting the airport in the distance. "Okay, Brian. We need to take her in easy. She's going to slide in on her belly, so we'll need to reduce speed as much as possible without allowing the nose to drop, okay?" Ca.s.s instructed, seeing her co-pilot nod nervously. Once more, Ca.s.s switched on the microphone to the pa.s.senger cabin. "Folks, this is your captain speaking. Unfortunately, we have landing gear failure, so a crash landing will be necessary. Again, I ask you to remain calm, and securely belted into your seats with your head in your laps and arms wrapped around your legs. Please do so now, and remain that way until the plane comes to a safe stop. Flight attendants please take your seats and prepare for the landing."

Ca.s.s' heart was in her throat as she watched the airport become larger and larger as they approached. She reduced their speed dramatically to the point where she felt like they were floating above the ground, while she struggled to help Brian keep the nose pointed slightly upward. Closer and closer they came ... slower and slower the plane flew ... almost drifting toward the runway. Finally, the tail end of the plane touched the ground as the friction caused by the contact threw them all forward in their seats. The force was so great, that it propelled Ca.s.s into the control panel in front of her, causing a deep gash above her right eye before whipping her backward into her seat once more.

The plane shuddered as the entire belly made contact with the ground, rolling the plane side to side. What was left of the wing tips alternately hit the ground, breaking off in pieces and scattering all over the runway. Momentum propelled the plane forward, counteracted only by the friction of metal against concrete as the giant bird slid along the runway on its belly through the foam that the emergency crews had spread moments earlier to prevent the plane from igniting into flames.

An eternity later, near the end of the runway, the plane came to a stop. An eerie silence filled the interior as the pa.s.sengers looked at each other, amazed that they were still alive. Ca.s.s and Brian both remained in their seats, hands glued to the controls, looking straight ahead for long moments. Finally, a collective sigh of relief was released as a cheer rose from the pa.s.senger cabin.

The c.o.c.kpit door flew open, and a very ruffled Ginny entered, tears running down her cheeks as she hugged and kissed Ca.s.s, and then Brian. Moments later, the emergency crews began evacuating the plane. Ca.s.s insisted on remaining on board until all the pa.s.sengers had been safely removed, a.s.sisting in rescue efforts as much as possible. Several times, she brushed off attempts by the paramedics to look at the gash above her eye, until all of the pa.s.sengers had disembarked. By the time she did allow treatment, she had blood all over the right side of her face and shoulder.

The moment her feet reached the ground, she was surrounded by TV crews, each one vying for an interview, while the paramedics finally forced her to sit still long enough to tend to the cut on her forehead. It was nearly 5:00 p.m. by the time the crew was debriefed by airport officials, and a special flight arranged to fly them all back to San Jose.

CHAPTER XV.

"NIKKI, THAT ISN'T necessary," Rox said to her friend who was sitting on the side of her hospital bed.

"Yes it is. Dr. Syverson said you could go home tomorrow if you had help. Now, either you accept it, or you stay here. Your choice," Nikki said to her stubborn friend.

"Nik!" Rox whined.

"Don't you, 'Nik' me! Jerri and I discussed it and we both agree. If you won't come to stay with us, then we're moving in with you until you're able to take care of yourself," Nikki explained quite matter-of-factly.

Rox looked at Jerri who was leaning with her backside against the windowsill.

"Don't look for any sympathy from me, Rox. I agree with Nikki," Jerri said.

Rox threw her good hand up into the air. "I can't win with you two, can I?" she complained.

Nikki leaned in and kissed Rox on the cheek. "No you can't, so get over it. Jerri and I have both arranged to take the day off tomorrow. We'll be by early to get you. Okay?" she said, rising to her feet.

"All right. I guess I don't have any choice, do I?" she said in mock indignation.

"No you don't. Now scoot down there so I can tuck you in," Nikki commanded as Jerri chuckled from her seat on the windowsill.

Nikki is such a mother hen, the taller woman thought as she watched her wife take care of their friend. Walking over to Rox's bedside, she too leaned in and kissed the red head. "Sleep well, girlfriend. The nurse should be by soon to give you something to help you sleep. We'll be here bright and early tomorrow, okay?"

Rox nodded her head to her friend, trying hard not to cry. She felt like such a big baby. It was times like this when she wished she had her own Jerri ... someone who would hold her and comfort her while she cried ... someone who would chase away her doubts and fears ... someone who would make love feel good, not painful. Someone ... someday.

"I love you guys, Rox said as a tear rolled down her cheek.

"We love you too, sweetie," Nikki said from the doorway. Jerri smiled her concurrence. "We'll see you in the morning."

Nikki and Jerri pa.s.sed the night nurse on their way out. Soon, the meds kicked in and Rox fell into a restless sleep.

Rox awoke in the middle of a forest. Sitting upright, she looked around and saw that she was alone, however, the camping gear and bedrolls indicated that there should be someone else there with her. Rising to her feet, she looked down at herself and noticed that she was wearing leather trousers, tucked into knee high boots, a long white muslin s.h.i.+rt with billowy sleeves, cuffed at the wrists and a large pointed collar, and a sash that circled her waist twice and tied at the side. Looking around, she found a couple of well worn cloaks, one much longer than the other, and a sword approximately two feet long with a black and gold handle, inlaid with milky white stones.

This all looks so familiar, she thought to herself as she walked around the campsite.

Suddenly, in the distance, she heard a moan. She stopped and strained to listen. The moan came again, this time louder. Following the sound, she soon came upon a figure laying on the ground, moaning in pain. Reaching down, Rox turned the person over and realized that it was a dark haired woman. The woman wore leather trousers, boots, a s.h.i.+rt made of muslin with long billowy sleeves that cuffed at the wrists, much like her own, and held together loosely with thin leather laces, and a leather vest. An empty sheath was attached to her side by a leather belt around her waist.

Brus.h.i.+ng the hair off the woman's face, Rox soon realized that there was a deep gash above her right eye. Tearing off a piece of her s.h.i.+rt, she went to a nearby stream and soaked the material, returning to the injured woman to cleanse the wound. As she was was.h.i.+ng away the blood, the woman stirred.

"Rox," the woman said.

Roxanne was startled that the woman knew her name.

"Do I know you?" she asked the injured woman.

"We have only met in our hearts, however we have spent many lifetimes together," the woman replied.

Thinking the woman was delirious from her injury, Rox ignored her strange ramblings and asked how she had injured herself.

"I fell from the sky," the woman replied.

Rox suddenly awoke, sitting up in bed so quickly that a dizzy spell overtook her, forcing her to lie back down for fear of toppling over and onto the floor. Placing her good hand on her forehead she breathed deeply until her heart beat returned to normal.

Fell from the sky? Rox said to herself as she tried to remember her dream.

Moments later, she succ.u.mbed once more to the medication and fell into a deep sleep.

Ca.s.s' plane landed in San Jose at nearly 8:00 p.m. Thursday evening. What had started out as a routine two day flight into Mexico, turned into a nightmare of the nth degree. In the ten years that Ca.s.s had been flying, she had never had to crash land a plane, until today. Sure, it was a required exercise in simulated flight training, but most pilots lived a life time without having to actually go through it. It was an experience that left her shaken to the depths of her soul.

As in San Diego, the airport was mobbed with reporters and TV crews, all wanting to get a first hand account of the crash landing, and to do an interview with Ca.s.s, who had quickly become a local hero. Ca.s.s was basically a private person, and all this publicity was giving her a headache. After trying to push her way through the throng of people for 20 minutes, she finally realized that the fastest way to get out of there was to do the interview ... only then, would they leave her alone. Ten minutes later, after each of the local TV stations had taped the common interview, they graciously allowed her to leave.

As she was heading out to her car, she heard a woman's voice calling her from behind. "Ca.s.s ... Ca.s.s ... wait up!"

Ca.s.s turned around to see Ginny heading toward her. After the day's harrowing experience and Ginny's lack of common sense during the crisis, Ca.s.s didn't feel much like entertaining the blonde. Besides, her head was killing her and the st.i.tches in her forehead ached and itched. To top it all off, she was still wearing her blood stained uniform, and she desperately needed a shower.

"Hi Ginny," she said, stopping to wait for the flight attendant.

"Hi. Are you still interested in dinner?" she asked hopefully.

"Ginny, after today's flight, all I want to do is go home, shower, and climb into bed," she replied.

"Sounds like a plan to me!" Ginny replied happily.

"Alone ..." Ca.s.s added, seeing the disappointment on the woman's face. "Look, I'm sorry Ginny, but my head is killing me, and I need to sleep. Some other time maybe?" she asked.

Obviously disappointed, Ginny pouted and nodded her head.

"All right then, goodnight," Ca.s.s said as she walked to her car and climbed in.

Ten minutes later, she was walking through her condo, stripping off her clothes and discarding them wherever they happen to fall on her way to the shower. Standing under the spray, she finally released the nervous tension that had built up since that first lightning strike as realization of her own mortality came rus.h.i.+ng in. No Ca.s.s, you're not going to live forever, E explained. We could have died today, if it wasn't for your piloting skills. Girl, life is too short to go on living it alone. Whaddaya say we do something about that? Let's e-mail the chick from Maine and ask her to marry us. Okay?

Ca.s.s chuckled to herself at the boldness of her alter ego. Oh, E, if it were just that easy, Ca.s.s thought as she rinsed the soap and blood out of her hair. I will e-mail her though. Hopefully, she has had time to respond to my last two posts, she thought as she reached out and shut off the water.

Moments later, feeling much better after her shower, a freshly bathed Ca.s.s sat in front of her computer waiting impatiently for it to boot up. After the computer had finally booted, she initiated the dial-up connection to log onto the Internet. After three failed attempts to connect, she called the 24-hour user help line and learned that her Internet server was down, and was not expected to be back up for several hours. Slamming the phone down in the cradle, she shut the computer down and stomped off to bed.

Rox was up and dressed long before Nikki and Jerri arrived to drive her home. The doctor had already come in and examined her, proclaiming her well enough to go home as long as she had help around the house for the next few days. She was given strict orders to remain in bed and to get plenty of rest. Sitting back against the array of pillows, she waited, surfing through the channels of the TV with the remote control. Just as she began to take interest in a newscast about a downed airplane in San Diego, she was interrupted by a police officer at the door.

"Miss Ward?" the officer asked politely.

Clicking off the TV, Rox turned to the officer and replied. "Yes. What can I do for you officer?"

"Miss Ward, I'm Officer Richmond, and I'm following up on the domestic abuse report we received yesterday from emergency room personnel. May I have a few moments of your time?" he asked.

"Yes, of course. Please have a seat," she said nervously, directing him to a chair by her bedside.

"Miss Ward, Do you live at 1163 Oceanview Terrace?" he asked.

"Yes, I do," she responded.

"And were you a.s.saulted in your home yesterday by a one Chris Dalton?" came the next question as the officer read the name from his notepad.

Roxanne hemmed and hawed. "Ah ... ah ... I wouldn't exactly say a.s.saulted. Yes, we argued," she said, quickly making up a story, "but a.s.sault is a little strong," she replied, not meeting the officer's eyes.

"Miss Ward, your injuries are consistent with domestic violence. We have reason to believe Dalton a.s.saulted you." he charged.

Rox became indignant. "Officer Richmond, we argued ... okay? We were at the top of the stairs ... Chris grabbed me ... I pulled away and lost my balance, falling down the stairs. That is what happened." she lied.

"Miss Ward, are you saying that you don't want to press charges against Dalton?" Officer Richmond asked.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Rox answered.

Officer Richmond looked at her for several long moments before he took a deep breath and said. "All right then, I guess I'm finished here." Standing, he closed the small notebook he was writing in, and slipped it, along with him pen, in his s.h.i.+rt pocket. Picking his hat up from the bedside table, he looked back and Rox and said, "Miss Ward, if you suddenly remember any new information, please call the precinct and ask for Officer Doug Richmond. All right?"

Rox looked down at the broken hand lying in her lap. "All right, thank you," she said in a small voice.

"Have a good day," Officer Richmond said as he left the room, pa.s.sing Nikki and Jerri on his way out.