The world around her shook, and she fell forward and nearly rolled down to meet her makers. Zahra climbed back up to the perch, breathing hard.
The people beneath her toes, to an extent, looked alive, but they also resembled that of the living dead. Their blank expressions, and unblinking eyes, sent a chill down Zahra’s sweaty, sun-stricken neck.
The stone below her rumbled and fell apart. Zahra was cast into a pit of utter darkness, screaming and thrashing like mad until her father woke her.
The pilot called back to them. “We, uh, may have a slight problem!” It was the first time Zahra had ever heard uncertainty in Cork’s voice. If she was concerned about something regarding her bird, then everyone aboard was in serious trouble.
Not a second after the thought had crossed Zahra’s mind did the rear engine cut out. There was a pop followed closely by a sputter. Then, nothing at all. The Cessna dropped. The sudden altitude change caused Zahra’s ass to lift off her seat in a moment of weightlessness, similar to how astronauts trained.
Cork leaned into view and turned around just in time to see Zahra land awkwardly back in her seat. “You may want to buckle up.”
Zahra wanted nothing more than to counter with a “No, shit, Sherlock,” but she didn’t. Her eyes were glued to the landscape off on the horizon.
“Are we going to make it?” George asked, once again gripping his armrests so hard that his knuckles turned white.
Cork called back. “Too early to tell, but you can bet your arse I’m going to try!”
Zahra gritted her teeth as the mechanical failure-induced turbulence rattled her fillings. She wanted to help Cork but didn’t know what she could do. Zahra was a lot of things, but a pilot wasn’t one of them. She understood the systems responsible but had no real flight experience aside from sitting up front and watching.
Zahra went to unbuckle, much to the dismay of her father. George looked at her like she was nuts, and maybe she was… She was a person that was never comfortable sitting idly by and doing nothing in the face of danger. Call it a flaw of hers. It’s why she loved fieldwork, even back when she was in the army. It’s why she had trained so hard. She wanted to be combat-ready.
George reached across the narrow aisle and grabbed her left hand, halting her exodus. “Are you crazy?” he shouted, squeezing hard. “This,” he motioned around the cabin, “is not a fight you can help with!”
“I can try.” Zahra pulled her hand free.
“The hell you will!” Cork yelled. “Stay in your seat until I tell you to do otherwise!”
Zahra was going to argue but was, once more, defeated by the pilot.
“Sorry, Zahra, but my plane, my rules.”
The headstrong archaeologist wasn’t one to be put in her place all that often. She didn’t like the feeling of being scolded like a school kid. Zahra was always the boss on trips like this. However, she respected Cork. So, she did as the captain ordered and kept her ass planted and buckled into her seat.
And she was glad she had stayed put.
The
“What is that?” she asked.
“Levanzo!” Cork called back. “It’s an island to the west of Sicily!”
“Can we land there?” George asked.
Cork laughed. “Doesn’t matter if we
Zahra saw pockets of low buildings dotted here and there. It wasn’t much, but at least Levanzo was inhabited.
A humming sound filled the cabin interior, freaking George out even more.
“Easy, Dad, it’s just the landing gear coming down,” Zahra explained, grabbing his shoulder and clutching his jacket. She didn’t let go until their
George lifted a finger and pointed. “Is that a road?”
“And our runway!” Cork replied, powering down the lone functioning engine a little more. With their airspeed decreased, the Cessna descended quickly. At this rate, they’d touch down any second.
By Zahra’s estimate, they were directly over the southern tip of the island. The road led straight for a port, from what she could tell. It was hard for Zahra to make out exactly where they were headed with all the bouncing and shaking. Any more of it, and she’d repaint the ceiling with her vomit.
“Cork!” Zahra yelled. “Any day now!”
“Almost there…” Cork relayed. The wheels caught asphalt. “Got it!”
But the road wasn’t empty.
One after another, drivers blared their horns and swerved out of the way to miss the Cessna. Cork tried her damnedest to avoid them too, but the plane didn’t have the same maneuverability as the vehicles. She kept the fuselage lined up with the central yellow lines of the four-lane road and mumbled incoherently to herself.
