Chapter 7
The Colonel had been right about the roughness. The big plane usually handled storms as a minor annoyance, but this was not the usual storm.
Winds were clocked at 120 miles per hour on the ground which meant the plane was trying to fly through headwinds 150 to 175 miles an hour. And it strained the engines, already operating at half power.
On board, the rolling and sudden dips of the plane were playing havoc with the stomachs of the occupants. Air sickness bags were the hot commodity as many of the passengers wished they had not eaten supper after they had boarded the plane.
In the Presidential office, Jed, Abbey, CJ, and Toby were not much better off. It hadn't taken long before the coffee made its first appearance in the air sickness bags. Then those who had eaten supper after take-off wished they hadn't. That select group included Toby and Jed. If Abbey hadn't been so green herself, she might have tried to help them. But she had all she could do just to manage her own stomach.
Regardless of the seat belts, the plane's occupants were twisted and pulled as the plane continued its gymnastics. The President was belted into his office chair while the three other occupants were restrained on the two sofas.
"Jed, are you doing okay?" Abbey finally got some words out between rolls and dips.
"Not really." Some more contents of his earlier snack made themselves visible.
Abbey decided at that point to release her seatbelt and try to get to her husband. If she could get her black bag, which was stowed behind him, then maybe she could do something about his nausea.
"Jed, I'm going to give you something for this motion sickness."
"Don't move, Abbey. It's way too rough." But Jed knew that she wouldn't listen.
She stood as the plane rolled sharply this time. The force of the roll made her fling her arms in the air and she hit the carpeted floor with a WHOMP! just as the lights went out.
Jed could see her on the floor, her body twisted by the fall. But the pale lights provided by the emergency generators didn't allow a distinct image of any injuries.
"Abbey! Are you okay?"
There was no sound or motion from the body lying passively on the floor.