Monstrum Read Free Page B

“Are we all about to die?”

E
mily wants to lie; I can see it in the way she blinks and looks away, pressing her lips together while she considers her words. In the end, she leans down to whisper in my ear.
    â€œWhat’s your name?” she asks.
    I hesitate, thrown by the vibrating urgency in her voice. “Bria.”
    Emily pulls her arm away from my grip and squeezes both of my hands in hers. There’s a paragraph of silent communication in that squeeze: that we’re both scared; that we’re in this together, whatever it is; that she trusts me to do what needs to be done.
    She draws back just enough to stare straight in my face, and her steady hazel eyes take up my entire field of vision. “Bria. We’re doing everything we can to keep you safe, but I need you to stay calm and help your friends stay calm. Can you do that for me? It’s important.”
    I find myself sitting up straighter and nodding, which is pretty funny, because it’s not like I’m going around with a red cape and a big red S on my chest or anything.
    â€œLet’s go, Emily,” says the male flight attendant behind her. His name tag reads,
Gordon
. There’s no mistaking his impatience, especially when he puts a hand at the small of her back to scoot her along. “We’ve got a lot to do.”
    Emily winks at me, and I release her hands even though I don’t want to. When she moves on, I feel like the last person on earth. And then I have one supremely unhelpful thought. The joke’s on Emily, isn’t it? Too bad she doesn’t know she’s recruiting help from a kid with an anxiety disorder and weekly panic attacks.
    â€œWhat was that?” Maggie demands. “What’d she say?”
    â€œNothing.” I shrug and work on looking irritated. I don’t like to lie, but what else can I do? Announce that we all need to stay calm because something really bad is happening? “She totally blew me off.”
    Maggie buys it, but Gray eyes me from across the aisle. He’s got one brow raised, which tells me he knows I’m lying, even though he couldn’t have heard what Emily whispered to me. But I shake my head and, luckily, he doesn’t pursue it.
    â€œCome on.” An is furiously thumbing her cell phone.
“Come on
.
”
    â€œYou know there’s no service,” I gently tell her.
    â€œI know. But I could really use my mom’s voice right now.” She lowers the phone and swipes at the tears in her eyes.
    I think of Mona’s singsong and the way she answered the phone every single time I called.
Is that you, baby?
she’d ask, with so much excitement ringing through her voice you’d think she was receiving a call from Jesus himself.
    â€œI know how you feel,” I quietly tell An, but there’s no time for a walk down woe-is-me lane.
    While the others kids grumble and the flight attendants continue their cabin sweep, I focus on the plane and try to recall the safety video that I ignored earlier in favor of flipping through my magazine for the latest developments in neurosurgery. Yeah. That was time well spent.
    My nearest exits are just one row away, in front of Macy and Espi. There are two, one on each side of the plane, and I can see the huge handles, which seem self-explanatory. I think there are inflatable steps or a slide or some such when you open the door. The aisle has track lighting that leads right to the exits. My seat cushion is a flotation device. That’s about all I can remember. Let’s hope it’s enough. The overhead speakers chime again.
    Everyone excitedly hushes each other, and we listen in dead silence.
    â€œPassengers, this is First Officer Rizzio again. Everything is just fine, but Captain Cummings is feeling poorly, and the weather outside has taken a turn, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. So I’ve radioed ahead to Miami, and we’re going to make an unscheduled