On the Island Read Free

him. I noticed his pained expression and the light sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Are you okay?”
    “I’m fine. I’ve just never had heartburn this bad before.” He put two more antacids in his mouth and crumpled the empty wrapper.
    An uneasy feeling washed over me. “Do you want to call someone? If you show me how to use the radio I can call for you.”
    “No, I’ll be fine once these antacids start working.” He took a deep breath and smiled at me. “Thank you, though.”
    He seemed okay for a while, but ten minutes later he took his right hand off the yoke and rubbed his left shoulder. Sweat trickled down the side of his face. His breathing sounded shallow, and he shifted in his seat as if he couldn’t find a comfortable position. My uneasy feeling blossomed into sheer panic.
    T.J. woke up. “Anna,” he said, loud enough for me to hear him over the engines. I turned around. “Are we almost there?”
    I unbuckled and went back to sit beside T.J. Not wanting to shout, I pulled him closer and said, “Listen, I’m pretty sure Mick’s having a heart attack. He has chest pains and he looks awful, but he’s blaming it on heartburn.”
    “What! Are you serious?”
    I nodded. “My dad survived a major heart attack last year, so I know what to watch for. I think he’s scared to admit there’s something wrong.”
    “What about us? Can he still fly the plane?”
    “I don’t know.”
    T.J. and I approached the cockpit. Mick had both fists pressed against his chest and his eyes were closed. His headset sat askew and his face had taken on a grayish cast.
    I crouched down next to his seat, fear rippling through me. “Mick.” My tone was urgent. “We need to call for help.”
    He nodded. “I’m going to put us down on the water first and then one of you will have to get on the radio,” he gasped, trying to get the words out. “Put on life jackets. They’re in the storage compartment by the door. Then get in your seats and buckle in.” He grimaced in pain. “Go!”
    My heart thundered in my chest and adrenaline flooded my body. We rushed to the storage compartment and rifled through it.
    “Why do we have to put on life jackets, Anna? The plane has floats, right?”
    Because he’s afraid he might not get us out of the air in time.
    “I don’t know, maybe it’s standard operating procedure. We’re landing in the middle of the ocean.” I found the life jackets wedged between a cylinder-shaped container that said LIFE RAFT and several blankets. “Here,” I said, handing one to T.J. and putting mine on. We sat down and fastened our seat belts, my hands shaking so badly it took me two tries.
    “If he loses consciousness I’ll need to start CPR immediately. You’ll have to figure out the radio, T.J., okay?”
    He nodded, his eyes wide. “I can do that.”
    I gripped the armrests of my seat and watched out the window, the rolling surface of the ocean growing closer. But then instead of slowing we picked up speed, descending at a steep angle. I glanced toward the front of the plane. Mick was slumped over the yoke, not moving. I unbuckled my seat belt and lunged into the aisle.
    “Anna!” T.J. yelled. The hem of my T-shirt slipped through his grasp.
    Before I could reach the cockpit, Mick jerked backward in his seat, his hands still on the yoke, as a massive spasm racked his chest. The nose of the plane pulled up sharply and we hit the water tail first, skipping erratically across the waves. The tip of a wing caught the surface and the plane cartwheeled out of control.
    The impact knocked me off my feet, as if someone had tied a rope around my ankles and yanked it hard. The sound of shattering glass filled my ears, and I had the sensation of flying followed by searing pain as the plane broke apart.
    I plunged into the ocean, seawater pouring down my throat. I was completely disoriented, but the buoyancy of my life jacket lifted me slowly upward. My head broke the surface, and I coughed