came on and Sherry began to move faster. At the rear she got on the inter-comm. She had to take several deep breaths before she made the announcement. She sounded warm and relaxed.
"Can I have your attention please. You'll see that the seat belt sign is on. The Captain says a bit of a storm has moved in so fast we can't avoid it. It is Placer Air's policy to ensure your safety, so make certain your seat belts are nice and snug. I'll be around in a moment to answer whatever questions you have."
Tony Genoa had almost fallen asleep when the plane began to shake. Since the doctor, the dream was always the same. He was standing outside his Deli. He knew that a fire was starting inside but he couldn't go in to tell anyone, he couldn’t do anything.
In the rear, Prince McChesney, Mr. America, was terrified. He was going to die. He knew it, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. He was going to die in the most horrible way, in a plane. It would be slow, seeing it coming but never knowing the exact instant. He couldn't remember a time when he wasn't afraid of flying, and in the years since he'd been making movies there was constant flying.
He'd tried everything. The last bit, hypnosis, made him forget the fear for a moment, but only because he was busy throwing up. After it was over he decided that getting put in a trance and throwing up wasn't that good an idea to replace a fear of flying. Maybe it was one of those weird therapies where you replace one problem with another that's worse, like getting hit on the knee with a hammer to forget a headache.
The hypnotist, a tiny Lebanese trained in Moscow, blamed Prince, said he was a bad subject. Thanks a lot, that'll be two hundred bucks.
When Sherry stopped by his seat he was beyond speech, but his relief at having someone near was obvious. She hadn't realized until then that he was terrified. She felt bad for not spotting it earlier. She had been trained to see it and she'd missed it. She knew she'd made the same assumption everyone else did. If a man was big, could lift a half ton, he couldn't possibly be afraid of anything.
Sherry sat next to McChesney and checked his seat belt. Before she could fasten her own the plane sank like an elevator out of control. She had to grab his arm to keep from being thrown out of her seat. After what seemed a long time the plane leveled off.
"Wow! That was something." She quickly buckled herself in. She kept her hand on his arm and gave him a little shake.
"Mr. McChesney," She didn't go on until he looked at her. "You're very afraid aren't you?"
He tried to hide it and couldn't. There was no contempt or misplaced sympathy in her voice.
"Yeah...yeah, I hate flying."
"Has it always been this way?"
"Yes, from the very first time."
The plane was beginning to really bang around, jerking up and down, jogging from side to side.
"I bet you think you're the only one."
"Yeah...no, feels like it, but I know I'm not."
"Would you like me to stay here?"
McChesney looked at her openly grateful. "Yes, but you've got a job to do. I know that...so if you have to go, it's okay." It had been very hard for him to say that.
Normally brash and arrogant, McChesney was completely cowed.
"No, it's okay. I've done all I can do."
The storm closed around the plane suddenly. Their small bowl in the night sky shrank in on itself and disappeared. Alvin tried to see what was going on outside the plane but blackness was total.
His eyes opened in surprise. The area around the plane was lit brighter than day. A fork of lightning with hundreds of branches, some bigger around than a house ripped through the clouds like a precursor to hell. After a short delay the booming of thunder rattled the skin of the aircraft.
Alvin was so excited he couldn't sit still. The plane seemed to be moving entirely at the whim of the storm.
In the cockpit, Duckhorn gritted his teeth and fought the yoke as the plane tried to go its own way. First Officer Neilsen had been calling in their position every few minutes and hoping ground weather could find a hole they could fly out through. It went on like that for an hour.
"What's our ground speed?" Neilsen asked.
Duckhorn shook his head. "Damn, Neil, I'm not sure. We're being pushed north west. It's like sailing. I'm going to have to go with this beast and hope it blows past us. One thing for sure. we're way off course.
"Captain, the computer's acting funny. I can't guarantee the locations I've been transmitting are accurate."
"I know, I know...don't worry about it. You just help me keep this thing in the air."
He slammed the steering column hard left and worked the flaps in both directions as the plane, trapped in a howling current of air tried to flip over on its back. For a moment the plane rolled up to ninety degrees shuddering like a killed thing before it slowly came back to level. The brief moment of level flight was replaced with a frightening ride upward, the altimeter needles winding up so fast they were a blur.
Duckhorn's ears popped and they roared through thirty thousand feet as if outer space were their final destination. In the passenger's cabin it was much worse. There was nothing they could do.
Tony Genoa had been through two wars, and before that he'd survived the streets of New York, but this took a different kind of courage.
The noise of thunder was continuous and deafening. He had to shout to get Alvin's attention.
"You okay, Mr. Eagle Scout?"
"Yes, sir." his eyes went wide as another lightning strike smashed the sky apart right next to the plane. "This is great. Do you have your pillow handy in case we crash?"
Alvin's question wasn't exactly what Tony wanted to think about, but the boy was incapable of not thinking about safety.
Tony laughed out loud. "Jesus, boy, what a thought, yeah, all right."
The plane seemed to bend as it was caught in a twisting knot of air and the metal skin popped with a series of gunshot-like cracks.
"I'm ready if you are, I'm no boy scout but I'll get by."
"Be Prepared, that's our motto."
"I know. What's your name?"
"Alvin Stanford Thomas."
"Good name. I'm Anthony Genoa. Call me Tony."
"Like the town in Italy," Alvin had to shout.
"Yeah, that's the one. You know a lot don't you, Alvin?"
Alvin laughed. "Not much. My father says no one's as smart as they think they are."
Tony's answer was cut off as the plane careened downward so fast the boy and the old man had to hold on. Even Alvin was frightened. It seemed like their downward plunge would go on forever.
Captain Duckhorn had the yoke pulled back to the stops and the engines at full power. He had to fly out of it. It was cool in the cabin but both he and Neilsen
