What Tomorrow Brings Read online

  What Tomorrow Brings

  By

  Jacqueline Druga

  What Tomorrow Brings

  By Jacqueline Druga

  Copyright 2017 by Jacqueline Druga

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Thank you to Paula and Kira for doubling up and doing this one so we could get it out. Also, for things you have taught me.

  Cover Art by Christian Bentulan

  www.coversbychristian.com

  PART ONE – WAR

  ONE - IMPACT

  “Brace!”

  The single first command didn’t bring chaotic screams to the plane, the loud mumbles of concern came minutes earlier when the pilot announced the red eye flight was making a forced landing.

  “Brace.”

  He assured the passengers that it would be a rough landing, apologized for the inconvenience, and promised it would be no more than a few bumps and bruises.

  “Head down. Stay down.”

  The female flight attendant had enormous command over her voice. Not giving into emotions, not conveying fear or concern, just direction.

  “Grab your ankles. Brace. Brace.”

  Engines whirled louder as the plane made a quick descent, feeling more so like a rushed landing. There was a sense that everything was going to be fine, a little rough, but fine nonetheless. Until the second illumination and the interior of the plane was as bright as day.

  The engines just stopped.

  Silence.

  “Heads down. Stay down. Brace.”

  A split second of quiet and then an eruption of screams ensued the moment everyone realized the plane was on a free fall glide to the ground.

  Suddenly, the calm flight attendant picked up urgency in her commands, repeated them like a broken record.

  “Head down. Stay down. Grab your ankles.”

  Kit Rolland wasn’t scared. She expected that she would be. All those preflight jitters, constant prayers before boarding, the fear of dying in a plane crash … gone.

  Instead of crying, screaming and panicking, Kit felt an abundance of calm.

  There was no flashing of her life before her eyes. If this was indeed it, the final moments of her life, she was not going to spend it feeling desperate, she was going to savor every last second.

  “Brace. Brace.”

  Kit knew that no amount of bracing, head down was going to stop the inevitable. The plane was without power and even if somehow she survived the crash, that was only round one.

  Others may or may not have seen, but Kit did.

  The quick progression of events made sense to her.

  They didn’t at the time, but now she had clarity.

  “Head down. Stay down.”

  Kit didn’t follow those commands, instead she turned her body to search.

  She needed that. She needed those one last looks.

  My son, my brothers, she thought. Were they okay? How are they handling it? After all, they were on the flight. The last minute travel arrangements had them all scattered about.

  She scanned across the aisle one row back, 10B to her seventeen year old son. Zeke was in the brace position. His legs together, leaning as far down as he could, forehead to his knees with his fingers locked on top of his head. The man next to him had his head against the seat before him, clutching the top.

  Was Zeke scared? More than anything Kit wanted to call to him. Tell him she loved him, but she feared him moving, changing his position. He needed to be that way, just in case that worked.

  In her mind she told him how she felt. In her mind, she held his hand.

  Her oldest brother Regis was two rows behind her in a middle seat. His eyes were closed, he wasn’t putting his head down. Somehow, as if he sensed Kit was looking at him, he opened his eyes, gave her that reassuring big brother look before finally lowering his head down.

  “Grab your ankles. Brace.”

  Mark.

  Her youngest brother.

  Where was he?

  He was nearer to the back.

  Kit had to see, she had to look, she had to know.

  She rose slightly to a near standing position and searched. She didn’t see him. However, she did see the woman in the red sweater. Mark was seated next to her. He, too had to be in position.

  Knowing somehow everyone was all right, Kit sat down.

  It was at that second, her heart raced.

  This was it.

  “Brace. Brace.”

  The one pure sad thought Kit had was, “My poor mother.” Her mother was a strong woman. Alone she raised her kids. Her children were her life, her driving force. How was her mother going to deal with not only the loss of three of her four children, but her grandson as well?

  Jillie.

  Kit’s oldest daughter. Barely over the legal drinking age, Jillie stayed behind. She had just gotten married and was expecting her first child.

  At least her mother had Jillie.

  Kit sat back down then buckled her belt. She closed her eyes, pressed her head back against the seat and inhaled, feeling the plane going at a smooth angle downward.

  “Get down!” the man yelled.

  Kit opened her eyes and looked over the empty seat between them to the man next to her.

  He leaned partially forward and looked at her. “Get down.”

  Kit just stared.

  He extended his arm, cupped the back of her head and shoved her down and forward. It was abrasive and her forehead skinned against the plastic of the folded upright tray table.

  Before she could react, jump back …

  Impact.

  The first hit sent a jolt up her backside to her hips. The top of Kit’s head hit hard into the seat in front of her and her own seat slammed down and folded on her back.

  She felt folded in half, barely able to move. Her arms dangled down and she wanted to bring them up but couldn’t. A loud ringing commenced in her ears and they filled with the pressure of the fast moving and out of control plane against the ground.

  Another bang and jolt lifted her up some, but her belt and the back of her own seat restrained her. She turned her head, looking to her left as the plane swerved viciously left to right. Some passengers were no longer in a crash position. Their bodies bounced out of control with each joggle of the aircraft. Luggage flew about the cabin. A blue laptop case sailed end over end at a high speed, slamming into the man in 9C.

  Blood splattered and he rolled from his seat into the aisle, then as if he were a rubber ball, bounced upward to the ceiling.

  Debris flew everywhere.

  Screams lessened and were more sporadic.

  There were no more jolts, no more bangs, just a fast sailing fuselage, sliding against the ground with no means to stop.

  With each foot the plane moved Kit felt the pressure pushing her, but more so the compression, as if her body would eventually smash like a bug.

  The plane came to an abrupt stop. The seat against her back, the one keeping her down lifted and Kit flew to her right, cracking her head against the window.

  It wasn’t enough to render her unconscious. She wished it was.

  Although the adrenaline aided in her not feeling any pain, it didn’t stop the fact that she couldn’t breathe when a thick dust or smoke poured into the plane.

  Kit choked and coughed and then, for a brief moment … Kit died.

  TWO – BOARDING

  Four hours earlier

  Her stomach twisted with a warning hunger pain that told Kit she had better get something to eat before they boarde
d the flight. Peanuts and pretzels weren’t going to cut it since the only thing she had to eat all day was a cup of ramen noodles.

  She wanted to eat and intended to do so, but she was rushing around for a trip she had only two days notice about.

  Her options for food were limited. It was already after ten pm and not much was open at the airport. She was already at the gate, a little earlier than expected. She had overestimated how long it would take at TSA.

  Kit teetered between looking at her phone and people watching. There was strange energy at the gate. People seemed tense, moved around quite a bit and the airline kept announcing that they were looking for people to give up their seats. They were offering such exuberant priced vouchers, Kit even debated on giving up hers. She couldn’t. It wasn’t a vacation, it was a trip she didn’t want to take, but it was one that she had to take.

  She wondered where all these extra people needing seats were, because to her, the gate looked pretty empty. Then again there was a strange amount of soldiers at the gate, about twelve, all lugging huge duffle bags and backpacks. All in uniform. Were they being deployed somewhere? Perhaps that was the reason they needed the seats.

  None of them looked happy. In fact, one soldier, a young man paced back and forth, phone to his ear, appearing to be having some sort of emotional conversation. Kit felt bad for him.

  Then again, she was well aware of emotional conversations.

  Her phone beeped signaling a message and Kit didn’t want to read it. Until she saw it was from her daughter.

  ‘Be careful. Good luck. Text me when you land. Love you.’

  Kit smiled and replied with thanks and love.

  She would need good luck on many levels. In the seconds following that text it hit her again the reason for the trip. Kit’s chest swelled with anxiety and heaviness, she exhaled to try to relieve it.

  It wasn’t a fun filled trip, or business venture. In fact Kit only took flights east twice a year to visit her father.

  This was the first trip in the year, but also the last one she would ever take.

  Her father had died.

  Even though he lived thousands of miles away, Kit was not estranged from him. Her parents divorced when she was young and then her mother moved them all from Virginia to Washington State. She spent a few summers with her father, then as she grew older, the trips were less frequent. However, she never missed a phone call, daily texts, weekly video chats and all the social media things in between.

  His death was a shock.

  He was still young in her mind, only sixty-five. Not even retired. Kit had just spoken to him, he was going fishing. Then a few hours later, his wife Sandra called to say he had a heart attack. That was it. He was gone.

  The memorial service was in three days.

  It was Sandra who made the flight arrangements. Deana, Kit’s sister lived out east. Kit supposed Deana hoped none of the siblings showed up. If flight arrangements were up to her, Deana probably would have said, “Sorry they’re booked up.”

  Rather … she didn’t want Mark to come.

  Mark was the black sheep, the outcast and more so recently because of his sudden divorce. For some reason, everyone passed judgment on Mark because he didn’t want to be married anymore. They sided with his wife as if Mark committed some sort of mortal sin.

  It was his third wife, but the only one he ever had a child with.

  Regis didn’t talk to Mark, nor did Deana and because Kit decided to be Switzerland, Regis avoided her.

  It was a mess and one Kit wished they’d all get over. Especially at a time when they all needed each other.

  Another beep of her phone, and Kit looked down. She thought Jillie was texting again, but it was Deana.

  ‘You know he didn’t even tell his wife he was leaving?’ Deana texted. ‘Our brother is a piece of shit. Keep him away from me.’

  Kit exhaled and thought, really? Our dad just died and you’re being like this?

  Kit didn’t respond.

  “Mom, you okay?” Zeke asked, snapping her from her stare of the phone.

  “Um, yeah.” Kit cleared her throat. “Just Aunt Deana being …”

  “Aunt Deana?”

  “Yep.” Her fingers fumbled. “I think I’ll just shut it off.”

  “You don’t need to.”

  “Yes, more than you realize, I do.” She held the button in to shut it off. “Thank you for coming to this.”

  “Mom, please, it’s Pap.”

  Suddenly Kit’s eyes felt heavy and her throat thickened. She had tried not to cry so much. “Yeah, it was.”

  “Anyhow … Uncle Rege asked me to run to Pizza Villa and grab him food. You want anything.”

  “Oh, yes, please.” She reached for her purse. “Get me a slice and coffee.” Grabbing her wallet, she pulled out a twenty.

  “He gave me money.”

  “I don’t think he wants to pay for my food.” Kit forced a sad smile.

  “Mom, really?”

  “Yeah, really.” She placed the bill in his hand. “Just plain pizza if they have it. Thank you.”

  Zeke took the money, put it in his pocket. “It will all get better. It’ll work out. You’ll see, the second we touch down everything will change.” After kissing her on the cheek he walked away.

  Kit shook her head sadly and tried to smile at his youthful optimism.

  He didn’t get it.

  Things were bad. It got petty and mean. Brothers and sisters shouldn’t hate each other at any age. They were far too old for the drama.

  It broke Kit’s heart.

  She looked across the terminal to her brother Mark who was on the phone at the other end of the gate. Then she glanced to Regis who was reading something five rows over. It was pathetic, and sad. They should be grieving over their father together not battling it individually. They weren’t strangers, they were family. Not only were they away from each other at the airport, they would be seated separately on the plane, but they were emotionally further apart than they had ever been.

  Never before had they been anything less than a tight unit. Always having each other’s backs.

  More than anything, Kit wanted them all to be as one, to heal, to come together. She hoped and believed with everything in her that the pettiness of the previous weeks would be lost and become a distant memory, and that somehow they’d all forgive and forget the hurtful things said and done.

  She thought of Zeke’s words.

  “It’ll work out. You’ll see, the second we touch down, everything will change.”

  Little did she know, as she sat at that gate, that when the plane did touch down, how absolutely right Zeke would be.

  THREE – FLIGHT 2468

  Typically, there was a lot of bumping and polite shoving when Kit boarded a plane. Impatient people fighting for their spot in line so they could get overhead compartment space. It wasn’t that way, there just didn’t seem to be that many people.

  She conveyed her curiosity to Zeke about why they were offering vouchers for people to give up their seats, to which he simply replied, “Maybe it’s not a space issue as much as it is a weight issue.”

  Was the plane carrying a heavy cargo?

  Kit was certain she didn’t add much to the baggage weight, her small carry on fit nicely in the space overhead. Although, she did have some trouble getting it in, not because of the weight, more so because people were trying to squeeze by her. One of them, her brother Regis. He brushed by her as if he was a stranger and took his seat. He never brought carry on with him. He was a snob on that front, even going as far as getting irritated with people who carried their own luggage. She guessed he was especially irritated with Mark, because he just didn’t bring a small suit case, he brought a tote and laptop. She was curious as to how Mark was going to get away with it.

  Mark walked by her and shook his head. “How’d you and Zeke get so lucky up here. I’m like way in the back.”

  “You’ll manage.”

  Mark shoved
her carry on in the bin. “You’re holding up the line.” He grinned.

  He was such a stark contrast to Regis.

  The big brother was a real estate lawyer and served on the board of his local church. Mark was a free spirit, who worked doing sales pitches at conventions and car shows, while making a little money doing acting gigs.

  On the physical side, Regis was older, bald and stout, especially around the middle. Mark was tall, thin with dark wavy hair and a thirty thousand dollar smile. Literally, a thirty thousand dollar smile … he took out a second mortgage for his dynamic grin when he landed a small speaking roll and an ‘on screen’ part in a blockbuster super hero movie.

  She slipped deeper into her row, grateful she had a window seat and shook her head when she saw Mark apparently smooth talking the flight attendant because she happily helped him stow his bags even though he was breaking the rules.

  As she sat down, she saw the same soldier from the gate. He was still on the phone. He took the seat in front of her.

  “Why are you still there?” he said on the phone. “Listen to me. No … listen to me.”

  Oh, this is going to be annoying, she thought, hang up the phone, we’ll be leaving soon.

  He plopped down hard in the seat causing it to flap back at Kit.

  “Oh my God, Jenna, please, please listen to me,” he said, his voice soft yet cracking.

  Kit would have gotten irritated had she not heard how emotionally he sounded.

  She felt bad. Obviously the solider was dealing with something that was beating him up. She didn’t want to eavesdrop, it was just impossible not to.

  Tune him out, she thought.

  Her flight plane was simple, while everyone else wanted to settle into a slumber on the overnight flight, Kit planned on reading. In the age where everyone had electronic reading devices, she pulled out the old tattered paperback of, Alas, Babylon. It was in horrible condition because it had been read a million times. It was her father’s favorite book, and he gave it to her on her last visit east. The cover looked like something out of an old 1980s movie, even though the novel was written decades before that. He had wrapped it like a Christmas gift and probably noticed the look on her face when she opened it.