“Come in, Flight one-nine-six,” a faintly feminine voice pleaded. “Flight one-nine-six, do you copy?” I was overcome with joy and relief that I was lost in a stunned silence. I didn’t know how to respond without giving away that I wasn’t qualified to be piloting this plane. If I said one wrong word, I could be in serious legal trouble, not to mention if they were to find out about the dead man who was still aboard the plane.

“This is Flight one-nine-six,” I said, my voice coming out small and fragile. I didn’t know what else to say, so I didn’t respond any further. I was afraid that this person, most likely from air traffic control, would know that I was not the proper pilot just based on my voice. I could feel the adrenaline pulsing through my veins at the thought, no matter how irrational it was.

“Flight one-nine-six, this is JFK air traffic control,” the woman said over the radio finally, tearing me from my thoughts. “You are free to land once you’ve reached your final approach point.” My stomach churned as the words echoed over the line. I was conflicted on how to feel. On one hand, I was relieved that air traffic control suspected nothing, but on the other, I desperately needed her help, and she would know that no qualified pilot of an aircraft would be asking air traffic control for help. I knew it was foolish of me, but I decided to keep quiet regarding the emergency of landing. It couldn’t be that hard, could it?

The plane flew on at cruising altitude for a few moments more until I saw the long grey streak of land that I could identify as none other than a runway. Terrified that we would overshoot it, I yanked back on the throttle of the plane, and the noise from the engines died down. We glided forward for a second more before the nose of the plane pointed down. Harry reached over and shoved the throttle back again just a second before the plane began a full nose dive.

“Are you trying to get us killed?” Harry shouted at me out of pure terror, and it came out as more of a statement than a question. I recoiled from his words as if he’d hit me. “There’s no sense in dropping the plane out of the sky!”

“I’m doing the best I can, Harry,” I replied through gritted teeth, anger bubbling up inside me. This whole mess was his fault. If wasn’t such an idiot in the first place, I might not be in this situation. I wouldn’t have to run around the world trying to save his life. After all, I knew I could keep myself safe, but both of us? I wasn’t sure. I wanted to scream and lash out. I wanted to throw a tantrum, but what good would it do? It wouldn’t land this plane. All it would succeed in doing was waste what few precious minutes I had left.

After getting Harry to reluctantly release the controls, I looked over all the flashing buttons and levers all around the dash. I could easily identify the altitude indicator and the Auto Flight button, but from there I was lost. I was about to give up when I thought of something. I quickly disengaged the Auto Flight, and readjusted the pitch of the plane down by fifteen degrees. As the plane began to descend toward the long, grey stretch of runway, I pulled back slowly on the throttle once more. This plane wasn’t too large, and it responded immediately to my adjustments, slowing down sooner than I’d expected.

“Hang on, everyone, we’re coming in hot,” I said, in a halfhearted attempt to notify the remaining people onboard of their impending doom by my hand. As the ground rocketed toward us, I held the controls steady, still aiming the plane down. Harry leaned backward in his chair, his face contorted in a look of fright. We plummeted for only a few seconds, but the time stretched out until it felt like hours. As the altitude indicator line passed the two thousand foot marker, I pushed forward on the throttle again, readjusting the pitch of the plane upward by thirty degrees as we glided toward the runway. The nose of the plane was now facing slightly up as it leveled out, and I reduced power again in a desperate attempt to slow down the aircraft while I slammed my hand down over the button to release the landing gear.

The plane rocked back and forth, and the screeching of the wheels finally filled my ears. Relief washed over my entire body, and I was fully convinced that the storm had passed until I realized that the plane was still going too fast to stop. We were already halfway down the runway by the time I realized I needed to open the flaps. Flailing my feet around wildly, I managed to find the rudder pedals. I pushed down on them hard, trying to stop the plane. I was thrown forward onto the control panel by the G-forces inside the cabin and as we continued to slow down, I managed to peel my body from the dashboard.

“That was fun,” Harry commented as we came to an abrupt stop, his voice dripping with sarcasm. I slumped down into the seat, finally relaxing after the terrifying experience. I breathed a sigh of relief to still be alive. I glanced over at him from where I sat, and his green eyes stared back at me, glinting in the sunlight. I was glad to be alive, and I was glad to be with Harry. For a moment, everything was silent, and I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. Subconsciously I was aware that I was laughing now, as if almost dying for the third time in one day was somehow funny. “What’s so funny?”

“We’re still alive,” I breathed out. “It’s insane.” I sat in the chair still smiling to myself. This was insane. There was no rational reason that Harry and I should still be alive. The plane should’ve crashed, and we should’ve died, but somehow we didn’t, and that was crazy. I had to laugh at the absolute insanity of the situation for a moment because if I wanted to keep my head on straight, I would, as I was coming to realize, need to be a little insane.  

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