Dragged into Darkness (24 page)

“You do that, Tammy,” echoed Smith.  “This thrill ride is far from over.”

Tammy’s mouth twitched at the corners, unsure whether to smile or scream.  Harrison didn’t blame her, Smith’s veiled threat made him shudder.

“Cold, Scott?”

“Just a touch.
  I could turn up the heating a degree or two.”

Relieved not to be at the center of Smith’s attention, Tammy took her chance and slipped out the door.

“Mr. Smith-”

“
Tobe
,” Smith interrupted, raising a hand.

“
Tobe
, you told Tammy you could shed some light on what happened earlier.”

“Yes, I can, Scott.”

Air traffic control interrupted, wanting an update.

“Could you take care of that, David?” Smith instructed.

Garcia glanced at Harrison for confirmation.  Harrison nodded.  Garcia returned the call, fobbing them off with some meaningless flight details.

“So,
Tobe
, what’s our problem?”

“Faith, Scott.”

“Faith?”

“Yes, faith.
  You lack the faith to keep this aircraft aloft.  For a moment, you weren’t thinking about flying and the plane stopped flying.”

“Are you insinuating I was incompetent?”  A trace of bitterness barbed his words.

Smith was already shaking his head.  He smiled.  “You’re not listening, Scott.  I said your faith was lacking, not your abilities.”

“What are you saying?”

“What keeps this aircraft airborne is your belief that this plane can fly.  When that faith isn’t there, this plane doesn’t fly.”

Harrison had read the situation all wrong.  Smith wasn’t a terrorist—he was a fruitcake.  Smith was one of God’s children touched by his fair hand—while he held a sledgehammer.  Harrison
relaxed,
he could lose this jerk and get back to landing this plane before it fell out of the sky.

“So, my lack of faith nearly crashed this plane?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s okay then.  We’re flying now with no problems.  Everything’s cool.”

“No,”
came
Smith’s emphatic reply.  “I’m keeping this plane airborne, not you.”

Garcia grimaced.

Smith’s dementia was deep-rooted.  Harrison cleared his throat.  “
Tobe
, I think we all know you’re not flying this aircraft.”

“Oh, but I am.  I have faith.”

Harrison shook his head.

“Then let me show you.  I’ll take my faith away.”  Smith paused for a second.  “Scott, it’s down to you.”

Nothing happened.

“
Tobe
, I think you should return to your seat.”

A vibration tickled the 747, which became a shudder, then a shake making the plane rattle.  The Boeing drifted to the right, the wing dipping and the nose dropping.

“Ah, here we go again,” Garcia groaned.

Harrison ignored Smith and returned to the flight controls.  The plane was accelerating into a spiral dive.  Harrison assisted his first officer with the controls.  If they didn’t get it out of the dive quickly, the G-forces would increase and over three hundred people would get to feel what it was like to be a sock in a tumble dryer.

“Strap yourself into that chair, Mr. Smith.”  Harrison didn’t relish having to compete with the plane and a lunatic twittering in his ear, but passenger safety was his concern and the guy didn’t stand a cat in hell’s chance of getting back to his seat without hurting himself and others.

“No need, Scott.  I have faith.”

“I don’t care.  Buckle yourself in.”

“Oh, Scott, when will you understand?”

“Screw
ya
, then.”

It was the wrong thing to say but he would have to let Smith deal with himself.  He couldn’t afford to get out of his seat and force the guy; Garcia needed his help too much.

The only good thing was that a spiral dive was a relatively easy obstacle to overcome, if caught early enough.  All that had to be done was to cut the power to slow the descent, have the wings level and pull up. 

Except, it wasn’t working.
  Harrison and Garcia’s inputs were having no effect.  The speed of descent increased.  The plane banked further and G-forces were taking hold.  Forces squeezed his flesh against his cheeks and unseen weights hung from his limbs.

“We’re going to invert,” Garcia shouted over the engine whine.

“Problems, gentlemen?”
Smith asked, like nothing was happening.

“Fuck you, funny man,” Garcia spat.

“Leave it,” Harrison instructed. 

“I just don’t want to listen to this asshole.”

“Then don’t.  You have a job to do.  I suggest you do it.”

“Yeah.”
  Garcia glanced over his shoulder at Smith.  But his glance became a
stare
. 
“Mary, mother of God.”

Harrison followed his first officer’s stare.  He couldn’t believe it.  Smith was just standing.  But he shouldn’t have been able to.  The Boeing was banked at thirty degrees and increasing.  The aircraft was in excess of two-Gs, but Smith was unaffected.

He defied physics.  The forces ravaging the plane, passengers and crew had no effect on him.  He stood perpendicular to the inclined deck, liked his feet were glued to the floor.  His long hair should have been flying everywhere but remained in place.  He didn’t even have to brace himself against the cockpit’s interior to keep himself from being bounced off the floor and ceiling like a pinball.  Was this lunatic’s faith really controlling the aircraft?

“I see I have your attention, gentlemen.  Faith has amazing powers, doesn’t it?”

“Are you causing this plane to crash?” Harrison asked, starting to believe.

“No, Scott.  I told you, you’re doing it to yourself.  You and David have lost faith.  That in turn has caused the passengers to lose faith.  And now, you’re in a nosedive that only faith can save you from.”

“How can I restore my faith?”

“Captain, you’re not listening to this idiot?” Garcia demanded.

“Believe that airplanes fly because they can.”  A clipboard flew in front of Smith’s face.  “The Wright brothers’ plane flew because they believed it could fly.”

“A plane flies because of science.”

“But what about a bumblebee?”

“What about it?”

“Scott, stop feeding this moron’s ego.”

“Aerodynamically, a bumblebee can’t fly.  Its weight, structure and wings make it impossible for it to fly, but it flies.  Why?  Because it knows it can.  It has an incorruptible faith.  The Wright brothers had to invent theory to prove their achievement, but it was their faith that got them into the air.”

“Captain, I need your help here,” Garcia pleaded.

The Boeing had pierced the cloud base and the sea loomed like a brick wall.  Harrison checked his gauges.  The altimeter was a blur as the height disappeared by the second and he estimated they were below five thousand feet.  He guessed they had less than two minutes before impact. 

Talking to Smith, Harrison’s grip had loosened and his fingertips detected Garcia’s frantic attempts.  He rejoined the fight and seized the yoke.  The pilots tugged on disobedient controls and the plane continued to spiral.

The sound of wrenching metal filled the cockpit.  The 747’s structural integrity was failing.  More alarms joined the symphony already in progress.

“
Tobe
, what do I have to do?” Harrison begged.

“Christ, are you serious?” Garcia blurted.  “Scott, what are you thinking?”

“Have faith,” Smith reiterated.

“How can I get it?”

“Let go.”

“Let go?” Harrison repeated, unsure.

“This guy’s crazy,” Garcia spat.

“Yes, let go.  If you truly believe that planes fly because they can, then let go.  The rest will take care of itself.  Faith is bigger than you.”

“He’s making you lose it,” Garcia advised.

“Let go, Scott.  You know it’s the right thing to do.”

“Scott, you’re a pilot.  You fly planes.  Planes don’t fly themselves.”

“We’re all going to die if you continue with this charade, Scott.  What have your actions got you so far, hmm?”

“Mayday, mayday, mayday,” Garcia announced.  “This is flight U-A-one-zero-six-eight.  We are going to ditch.”

“Let go, David.”

The request came from Harrison, not Smith.

“What?”

“Let go.” 

“You’re as crazy as that lunatic.”  Garcia jerked his head in Smith’s direction.

“It’s the only way.”

“Listen to him, David.  He’s talking sense,” Smith added.

“Believe in me, David.  Have faith.”

“Fuck you.”

Harrison let go of the column.

The effects were immediate.  Several of the alarms went out.  The G-forces lessened.  Garcia laughed, control was returning to his fingers.  But Harrison knew it wasn’t enough.  Garcia’s inputs weren’t making enough of a difference.

“Smith, it isn’t working.”

“Scott, it takes the faith of both of you to make this plane fly.  It’s obvious that David doesn’t believe.”

“You’re goddamn right about that.  I believe that lift occurs when air traveling over the top of the wing travels slower than the air underneath the wing.  I have faith in aerodynamics.  I don’t believe in your voodoo bullshit.”

“Scott, there is nothing I can do to make him believe.  And without his faith, there is nothing that can save the people on this flight.”

“But what can I do to change things?”

“Kill him.”

“I knew you were a psycho, Smith,” Garcia said.

“His lack of faith will kill everybody but if he is dead then only your faith is needed.  What is David’s life compared to everyone else’s?”