“So it won’t just peel off?” Cass asked.
“No,” Art said sharply. “Weren’t you listening? It adheres. You’d have to kill the fungus and weaken it to”—he held up his fingers forming air quotes—“peel it off.”
“That’s such a dick move air quoting me,” Cass said. “No wonder Ada doesn’t like you.”
“Cass,” Kit scolded. “Stop. Everyone stop. We tried. It was a bust. I just wish—”
He stopped speaking. In fact Kit jumped back, as did Art and Nile, and Cass shrieked at the shock of seeing a face appear in the fourth window from the back.
They couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman, only a portion of the face could be seen along with the hand that reached up and pounded on the window.
“You were saying?” Cass asked with sarcasm to Kit.
“Oh my God, someone’s alive!” Kit said. “We have to get them out.”
“How?” asked Art. “That plane is sealed. That door is sealed.”
“Didn’t you say we could kill the fungus,” Cass said. “Weaken it to remove it.”
“Yes, but that’s not as easy as it sounds,” Art told her.
“Why not? It’s fungus. Old or new, it’s fungus,” Cass said. “Just find an antifungal and spray it on.”
“Cass,” Kit spoke calmly. “This isn’t athlete’s foot.”
“Same premise.” She turned sharply when Art laughed. “What? You’re the know-all expert?”
“As a matter of fact, yes,” Art replied.
“Yes, well, if you were so know-it-all the world wouldn’t be teetering on extinction right now, would it?”
“Cass, come on,” Kit said. “I’m sure the man feels bad enough. Plus, he did try to stop it.”
“Thank you, Officer, for defending me,” Art said. “But on this, the theory of killing it is good, but we have nothing that can do it.”
“I do. Good thing Ada armed me.” Cass pulled a spray bottle from her utility belt and walked near the plane. “We pull the church van up here, we brought it to rescue them right, stand on it and spray around the door enough to peel off the fungus.”
Art laughed and held up his hand. “I’m sorry. You’re going to use a plant sprayer filled with some homemade concoction.”
“She got you results before,” Cass said.
“Yes, but not on a level like this.”
“Well I trust Crazy Ada.” Cass inched closer to the plane.
“Cass,” Kit said softly. “We’re gonna have to think of another way to get those people off the plane.”
“I got this. We’ll see if it works on this spot, if so we’ll do the door.” Cass pumped the spray a few times hitting the fungus, then stood there staring.
“If we’re done playing with the tinctures of Doctor Quinn Medicine Woman,” Art said, “Niles and I will see if we can work something out.”
Kit moved close to Cass and whispered, “I swear one more sarcastic comment from him, I’m gonna deck him.”
“Please do,” Cass returned the whisper
“Okay,” Kit said. “Let’s all take a minute to try to…”
“Kit,” Cass called him. “Look.”
Kit spun around. The small spot that Cass had sprayed was turning from varied shades of green to a dull brown.
“It worked,” Cass said with shock. “Ada’s mixture worked.”
Art rushed over with Niles.
“Oh my God,” Niles stated with surprise. “It weakened it.”
“No.” Cass pulled out a screwdriver. “It killed it.” She placed the flat end of the screwdriver under the portion that had changed color and smiled. It didn’t take much effort to pop off the portion from the plane. It was a small section, six inches or so, but it came off. “See, like picking an eggshell from a hard boil egg.”
“I stand corrected,” Art said. “Ada is a genius.”
“They don’t call her Crazy Ada for nothing.” Cass lifted the spray bottle. “Let’s work on that door. And hopefully get them out.”
Kit grabbed for the bottle. “And, hopefully there’s enough in this bottle to pull off the task.”
It was a larger spray bottle, but was it enough to get those who remained free from the plane?
21.
MIND OVER VINE
Willow Springs, AZ
An hour and a half later, with two inches of fluid remaining in the bottle, they flipped off what they believed was the last piece of fungus over the crease of the exterior plane door. Enough, they hoped, for the door to be opened. But it had to be done from inside.
They’d followed Cass’ plan to bring the van over and were standing on the roof.
Kit tried to convey to the one and only person looking out the window to open the door.
It took a while to find out if they understood or even if they had the strength to do so, but the door finally cracked enough for Kit to grip onto and open it.
It wasn’t easy. The bottom of the door was two feet higher than the van.
When it opened a tremendously strong odor seeped out, pelting them. It was a mixture of something sour, body fluids and death.
A skinny man, no older than thirty and drenched in sweat, stumbled to the door. He wheezed loudly, gasping so dramatically it seemed like an act.
It wasn’t. His face was pale, dark circles under his eyes, and he swayed. “Tell me I won’t die for breathing this air.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cass said.
“Cass,” Kit scolded.
Just as she questioned why Kit was upset, the man tumbled out and onto Cass, probably expecting her to hold him up. But he was too heavy and too wet, and not only did she not hold on for long because of the weight, Cass instinctively jumped out of the way.
The man dropped to the roof of the church van and rolled down over the windshield to the hood.
“Cass, what the hell?” Kit asked.
“You expected me to catch him? I wasn’t ready!”
Niles hurried to the man. “Are there more alive?”
The man nodded.
Niles peered up to Kit. “We need to go in.”
“Stay with him,” Kit instructed. “Art, get water out of the van.”
“Kit,” Niles said. “We can’t just head back. If anyone else is like him, we need to find a place to give them medical attention, at least for today and then head home tomorrow.”
“We will. But right now…” Kit looked at Cass. “Ready.”
Cass nodded her reply.
Kit stepped up and through the door then he turned around and extended his hand to Cass. She used it as leverage and climbed inside.
The moment Cass crossed the threshold of the plane, Kit stopped her.
They had boarded on the right side, through the doorway closest to the front. It wasn’t a big plane, Kit believed it was an Embraer 175, and where they entered brought them between the small galley and storage closet, directly across from the lavatory.
A good place to keep Cass from seeing anything.
“You know, what? Stay here,” he told her. “Let me look first.”
“I’m fine.” Cass brought the back of her hand to under her nose.
“Just… stay here, okay?”
Cass agreed and Kit braced himself for walking that plane.
He didn’t know what to expect but he knew what he would see. Families traveled on planes and maybe it was a sense of protectiveness over Cass that made Kit want to be the first to explore.
He could smell it… death. The air was stale and thick, the temperature was stifling hot—the fact that the young man still lived told Kit the pilot had circulated the air.
Kit listened.
He listened for any signs that meant life. A breath, cough, rustling, groaning… anything.
The lavatory door was closed and the cockpit open. It was dark. He could see the outline of one pilot slightly slumped in his seat. He wasn’t moving. In fact Kit stood there, watched and listened before moving through the fuselage.