Читать книгу Last Flight Out - Jennifer Psy.D. Vaughn - Страница 5

They say the best stories are the ones you live to tell. As I sit here with every muscle in my body tensed tighter than a circus high wire, I am not sure which way that will go. We are at 37,000 feet and heading somewhere. There is silence in the cabin, save for moments when you can actually hear passengers trying to gulp down the fear that sits lodged in their throats like a boulder. Everybody has been allowed to keep his or her cell phone except me. The pilot said they would not work anyway. Sure enough, try as they might no one has been able to get a signal.

How is that happening?

He took both of my phones, which is not a good sign. How did he know about that phone? No one is supposed to know about that phone. The most powerful people in the world are going to be exceedingly pissed off at me. If I survive this, my mother will kill me.

He has told us almost nothing. For the first time in my life, I have seen someone die right before my eyes. I have seen the exact moment when death seeps in like a flood of dark water under a locked door. I had to look away from the frozen eyes staring at me as I choked back the coffee that was turning sour in my stomach.

At this moment, I sit at a crossroad. What I had envisioned as the biggest catastrophe in my life now seems almost delicate as I wait for the click of the intercom system that will signal the pilot is ready to speak again.

Please, tell us something, anything.

The big, warm hand grips mine again. He tells me for the hundredth time that everything will be fine and we will make it out of this. How is it that I have met this perfect creature on what could be the final day of my life? Is fate that cruel that it would give me mere hours with the one person who just might be able to scale my impossibly high walls?

His face is the only thing I can focus on as I nod back with a shaky smile that feels more like a grimace. He puts his head back on the seat and looks me square in the eye.

“Ella,” he says. “Trust me. We will live.”

God, I hope so. This could be really good.

Just then, I hear the intercom click.

The pilot is about to speak.