Burning Desire (The Flyboy Trilogy Book 2)

Fear and shock devastate my system as I helplessly watch the unsteady plane, carrying my reason for living, slam on to the landing strip, erupting in a ball of blazing fire. My heart slams against my aching chest. I scream at the top of my lungs, L…I…S…A…!

Dropping to my knees, I watch the International Air plane break apart and disintegrate. Through a hazy, smoke-filled fog I catatonically watch the fire trucks and ambulances lurch into service. Tears tumble down my cheeks. Shock numbs my system, but unfortunately not my breaking heart. I finally opened my heart to someone God and I’ll be damned if you are going to take her from me now. Lisa, I mumble. God, please save Lisa.

A burst of wind whips across the tarmac parting the expanding black, gray, and white smoke. Through the opening, I discover an area where the plane split apart and people are visible. I jump to my feet. Hope lurches through my senses. People! I see living, breathing people! People are stumbling out of the ripped-apart metal shell. An adrenaline surge pushes me toward the blazing mass of steel hollering, Lisa! Baby, I’m here. Lisa, come to me. Please, Lisa, please come to me.

Still far from the landing strip my steps are halted and blocked by police, paramedics, and firemen. Sir, you cannot enter the accident site, a policeman orders.

I can help. I can help her. She’s in there, I beg the uniformed men. Desperately I search their eyes for understanding. Come on, guys, if the love of your life was in there you would run toward the damn inferno, also.

Sir, please back up and allow us to do our jobs.

My hands grip the collar of the policeman’s shirt while shouting in his face, Lisa is in there, and so help me God I am going to her. Several hands wrap around my appendages, preventing my progress toward the plane, the fire, the love of my life.

Behind me I hear a rational voice. The voice of my first officer. Let them do their job, Lance.

Through clenched, reluctant teeth, I relent. Fine. Let go of me. Numerous hands relinquish my arms as I continue, But, I’m staying here, right here. I am not going back inside the airport. Do you hear me? I am not leaving her.

In an extremely irritable tone, the officer orders, Okay, but stay out of the way.

The paramedics and firemen rush by us carrying injured, burned bodies. The bodies are marked with colors displaying their order of importance regarding injuries. Importance? Isn’t all life important? I understand it is their importance of immediate medical attention, but still…

My mind struggles to wrap around the severity of the injuries passing by my frozen, shell-shocked frame. Flashes of my time in Afghanistan soar in front of my eyes. Please, God, save her, I whisper. "I need her. Our life together has only begun don’t take her from me now, not yet. It’s not her time. It’s our time to be together, damn it! We deserve a chance."

Lisa, I bellow. Come to me, baby. Under my breath I mutter, Don’t be a hero, Lisa. Save yourself. Save me, from a meaningless life—a life without you. There’s no reason for me to exist without you. Tears cloud my vision of the metallic war zone, prior to tumbling down my cheeks.

Lisa

My head, jeez Louise, my head hurts. My neck hurts. Everything hurts. Where am I?

Smoke singes my nostrils as I attempt to inhale. I can’t help but cough and choke on the thick black smoke absorbing my oxygen. What the hell is happening? My lungs burn. My eyes sting. I can’t halt this relentless strangling of my lungs. My throat feels scorched. What type of hell hole am I in?

I do my best to stand, but I’m trapped. Peering through the haze, I realize I’m still strapped into my jump seat. While unfastening my straps it occurs to me I’m sitting on the ground. The jump seat has broken and now rests on the floor, in a puddle. I’m not exactly sure what it’s a puddle of, nor am I sure I want to know.

Attempting to stand, I lose my balance and fall against a section of the aircraft hull remains. People cry and moan amidst the crackling and sizzling sounds of the fiery fury. I have to go help them. I must help them.

Stop their blood curdling screams. Please, God, stop their screams. Give me the strength to help them, to save them.

Again, I try to stand. This time I lean against a piece of the frame extending in front of me. Daylight seeps through openings in the shattered, smoldering aircraft. The aircraft has apparently broken apart in several places. Someone screeches, Help me! I can’t undo my seatbelt. Help!

I forge my way up what used to be the center aisle. The sights, sounds, and smells are extremely grotesque. The entire scene is beyond horrific. It feels as though I’m standing center stage in a horror flick.

I unfasten seatbelts and attempt to wake people, but I’m not sure if they’re knocked unconscious or dead. In the distance, I witness a few people beginning to stand. Quickly they file through a gap in the fuselage, behind the remnants of the left wing. Voices holler urgently for everyone to exit, but it isn't flight attendants or passengers shouting commands. Forging my way forward, toward the dancing flames, I observe firemen spraying something white, it appears to be a type of foam. My vision blurs, but I continue unfastening seatbelts, shaking people, and checking for a pulse when warranted. There’s blood everywhere. The stench of blood, smoke, fuel, and evanescing metal nauseates me. Breathing is an enormous struggle, becoming even more difficult with every passing second. But I am alive. Thank you, dear Lord. I am alive.

Upon hearing a whimper, I look to my right. Near my feet I discover a woman. Ma’am, please exit the aircraft, I order. Even in shock I follow protocol. My trainers will love hearing this news.

The woman cries, My foot’s trapped. I think I broke my ankle. Help me, please. Please don’t leave me.

Look at me, I order. I promise I’m not leaving you here. Now do as I say. I lean down instructing her to wrap her arms around my neck, until I see her ankle trapped beneath a collapsed seat. I kick the seat forward and, miraculously, it moves.

My foot’s free, but I don’t think I can stand on it, she explains.

Lean on me and push up with your other foot. With God’s help, I’m able to lift her and do my very best to move her toward the opening. Thankfully, a fireman comes into view. I scream, Over here! Please help over here! Immediately, first responders run toward us. I hand off the woman and hurriedly re-enter the fire-filled fuselage.

The courageous firemen yell after me, Ma’am, come back. I ignore their summons. I’m compelled to see if anyone else is trapped. Re-entering the chaotic hell hole, an eerie, horrifying creaking sound overwhelms me. The noise is the fuselage liquefying, physically collapsing; a sound I never wished to encounter. It’s staggering to realize something so supernaturally strong has the ability to dissipate so quickly. The sounds and smells are unnatural, but through all the numerous, frightening noises I detect an extremely natural sound—a cry…an infant crying.

Chapter Two

Captain

We need more ambulances—now. I don’t know from where, that’s your job! I’m dealing with hell on earth here and we need more ambulances. Send them straight to the landing strip, the captain of the fire department screams into his microphone.

My eyes sting from the unending smoke billows, but at least now my tears appear to be from the smoke and not the choke hold on my heart. I continue to sporadically see people stumbling from the International Air inferno. Every single, blessed time someone appears I pray they’re in a black dress, with long, flowing golden locks, highlighting my goddess’s gorgeous face, especially her astounding emerald-green eyes. Unfortunately, I haven’t seen a single crewmember exiting the damn hell hole.

Have faith, I hear Glenn, my FO say. His hands squeeze my shoulders before he continues, She’s strong. Lisa’s a fighter. Don’t give up on her, Lance.

Never. I will never give up on my goddess, I earnestly and emphatically declare. A cluster of ambulances arrive and choose to park adjacent to the plane, blocking my view. Damn it! I can’t see the opening. I can’t see people exiting. I turn to face Glenn. I can’t see Lisa. Tell them to move, I scream. I clutch Glenn’s shoulders while choking on my tears. Make them move. My knees give way, collapsing me against the hard ground.

A paramedic rushes to my side. Are you okay, captain?

No, no, I sob. I am not okay. My fiancée is in that burning tube and you won’t let me go help her.

Sir, if she is in there the firemen will get her. Have faith, sir, he states, before being interrupted by a fellow first responder.

Hey, Michael, they radioed they need you out there, an ash-covered fireman instructs.

Got it. Hey, watch that pilot. I think his girl’s in the plane.

Will do. I need a breather anyway, but then I’m going back.

You think there are more survivors?

Yeah, man, in the back.

My head whips to the firemen. In the back? Survivors? I ask.

Yeah, a stubborn, but unbelievably fearless flight attendant keeps bringing people to the breakage point. But, damn it, she needs to come out and won’t. She definitely has a mind of her own. She’s a crazy one. You’d think she would run to the hills, far away from that place.

Adrenaline shoots through my body. I leap to my feet. Lisa. It’s Lisa. I burst through the barricades, yelling, Lisa, baby, I’m here. I’m coming to save you. I’ve. Got. You!

Flight Attendant

I am not hallucinating. I know that’s a baby crying.

The carrier!

There was an infant in a car seat, in my section. Okay, think, Lisa—the baby has to be somewhere in the back four rows, but where on earth is that section now?

Ma’am, please come out of there. I continue to ignore the fireman’s request. I must find the child. While kicking debris out of my pathway, I listen for a cry.

Please cry. Please cry for me, sweet baby. A flight attendant wanting a baby to cry on the plane…Even during this tragic event the irony doesn’t evade me. Jeez…maybe I do need a psychological evaluation. But wait—I’m the one with the counseling degree. What. The. Hell. Am I doing? Focus!

There are too many noises. If only I could silence everything except the infant.

I reach to move a seat and singe my hand. Everything’s blistering hot, including my body. The heat from my skin feels as though it’s literally on fire. Of course, I am standing in a fucking inferno.

I must continue. I have to find this child. Please, God, lead me to the baby. I beg you to get us both out of here safely.

I mumble while continuing my search, Where are you, baby? I know you don’t understand, but please make a noise. Let me know where you are.

A cough—I hear a cough somewhere to my right. Hello? Is someone there? More coughs. Rapidly and forcefully I kick seats out of the way approaching the coughing, where I discover a frightened teenage girl. Here, take my hand. The fragile teen limply places her hand in mine. I pull her to her feet as she continues coughing and wheezing. Can you walk? She nods while choking on the smoke. I instruct her, Walk toward the light. There’s an opening. You’ll see the emergency team. They’ll help you. I promise. She nods and stumbles her way toward the opening. A firefighter appears. I bark, Help her. She needs oxygen. He nods and grabs the young lady.

You need to come out of there also, ma’am. There is that damn ma’am thing again. I despise being called a ma’am.

I will in a minute. I have to find a baby, I hack.

Several minutes pass. I continue searching for the child. I’m beginning to feel as though all hope is gone, until at my lowest moment I witness the most beautiful melody ever heard. With Herculean strength, I kick seats, move debris, making my way toward the lovely weeping. Under a collapsed seat, I locate the infant carrier still strapped in its assigned seat. Money well spent.

The Lord took care of this sweet child; the seat lying on top of the carrier is upside down, truly protecting the child from flying embers and debris. Quickly I push the protective shield out of the way and unbuckle the wailing infant. Never have I felt such fullness in my heart. I lift the innocent, precious life to my face. Tears stream down my cheeks. I find myself giggling while spreading kisses across the angelic, cherished miracle’s cheeks. This child represents a beautiful ray of hope, inside a fiery hell on earth. While comforting the crying, frightened infant, I make my way to the light. I continue stumbling over the debris, doing my best to cradle the child. My strength’s faltering, withering. I must push through my exhaustion and get this infant to safety. I try to yell for help, truly I try, but my lungs are filled with soot, all I can do is hoarsely whisper. Bending at my waist, I make my way