Coffee and Cockpits (32 page)

A nurse rushed to my aid, grabbing my elbow to try and help me off the cold linoleum floor. I was wrenched back into the madness with Liam being the focus of such panic.

“Help me. I need to touch him.” My voice croaked and split, but the nurse shook her head.

“Let us try and save him. You can touch him soon.”

Tears sprouted as my body screamed. Touching him was the most important thing I’d ever done in my life. I
had
to touch him. I didn’t know why, but if I did… it would be okay. It had to be. I stared hard into her black eyes. “Please. Help me.”

She looked over at Liam’s lifeless body and the worry draping everyone in the room like a murky aura. She nodded once and helped pluck me to my knees.

I sucked in a gasp. My legs were spotted with different shades of bruises and cuts. It looked as if a jungle cat tried to shred me for dinner.

She helped my fatigued and useless legs to a kneeling position. Almost immediately the ground tried to claim me as its own. Tugging me down with a weight that was colossal in my hungry and tired state. I wobbled, but our beds were close and Liam’s hand fell at that exact moment to dangle within touching distance.

I reached out and held on with all my strength, which admittedly wasn’t much, but even as the cold floor seeped into my naked legs, my fingers laced with his corpse-like ones.

The nurse tried to separate us, pulling me upright. I refused, squeezing Liam’s fingers so hard my own digits turned white from pressure.

In a voice raspy and sore, I shouted as best I could, “Wake up, Liam. Wake up!”

Everyone in the room froze. A doctor hovered with paddles, and the one performing CPR, halted. All sets of eyes glued on me, sprawled on the floor with my hospital gown riding precariously high.

I whimpered, tugging on Liam’s hand to jerk his lifeless frame. “Wake up, damn you. I know you can hear me. We’re connected. Remember?”

Everyone sucked in a gasp, eyes flew wide as the heart rate monitor kicked from monotone despair to hopeful mountains and gorges.

I let go of his hand to scramble to my shaky legs with the help of my nurse.

I sobbed as Liam opened his icy-blue eyes.

S
apphire eyes.

In the swarming chaos and overwhelming sickness, I latched onto those eyes with all my strength. My body was bruised, battered by some unseen force. My head thundered with agony and the tiny zinging shocks ran along my veins, sparking in my fingertips.

What the fuck happened?

Last thing I knew I was on the beach, wretched. Nina died in my arms. My own pains dismissed compared to the heart-crippling pain that she’d gone.

I’d screamed and shouted, locals had come running. But before they reached me, wooziness took hold. The ocean was no longer placid, but broiling with disaster. The ground shook and chasmed, whisking me from lucidness to the sterile white noise and electricity.

My brain was in two halves, unable to sew together what I saw through murky eyes and where I was just a moment ago.

“Liam.” Nina’s voice was different: Cracked. Brittle. I blinked to dispel the film obstructing my vision. It was as if I was under water and it was full of silt and pond sludge.

A door slammed open. “He’s awake. Turn that damn thing off.”

Light, lyrical voice. Joslyn.

She was here, too? Where the hell was here? I tried to move, but my back snarled, and my head threatened to black out.

Nina wobbled beside me, bracing herself against my chest. Her hands were cold; she looked like a ghost with matted copper hair, draping hospital gown, and her blue eyes that kept me centred and sane.

My heart tried to launch itself out of my useless body to go to her. I needed to touch her, prove to myself she was alive. What was real? Antiseptic and whiteness, or tropicalness and colour?

“What…?” I swallowed against the gravel in my throat.

Joslyn appeared in my vision, obstructing the white fluorescent lights from above. “You’re in a Samoan hospital, Liam. Just rest. Everything is okay.”

A nurse pulled Nina off me and pushed her onto a bed not far away. Even though she was close, the loss of her hurt all over again.

Joslyn took the place of the nurse once Nina was safely under the sheets. 

I tiled my head, grinding my teeth against the incessant hammering in my skull to keep both of them in my murky vision.

Slowly, more detail made its way to my brain. Nina was a wreck. Her face and arms were covered in scrapes and bruises. A brace and bandage wrapped around her neck.

Joslyn wasn’t much better. Her normal blonde hair ragged and unkempt. One of her eyes ringed with heavy shadows, and I winced when my gaze travelled down and noticed her entire left leg was in a cast.

Doctors darted around us, checking my vitals and murmuring their finds. It all pointed to hospital. But how did that make sense? We were just on the beach. 

Nina looked as freaked out as I felt. My brain pounded and didn’t have enough space inside to unravel the situation in front of us.

Joslyn clasped hands with Nina, then did the same with mine. Squeezing, she sucked in a breath. “I thought I lost both of you. I can’t believe you’re awake.”

I held my own breath, drinking in the sight of her. Her temple had a row of neat black stitches, and her crutches leaned against the bottom of my bed.

Then, it hit me.

In a series of catastrophic mini explosions, as if a building inside me was being demolished and razed to the ground, I remembered.

Boom
. We crashed.

Slam
. It was worse than we thought.

Wham.
We hadn’t walked away and enjoyed an island holiday.

Nina sobbed beside me, realization colliding into her as it tore me apart.

She asked, “The crash… it wasn’t a simple skid along the runway, was it?”

Joslyn hung her head. “What do you remember?”

Nina eyes swimming with worry shot in my direction. Did it mean everything we went through together... the connection we built… the waterfall… the night in our fales…was that all in my head? A coma-fantasy? My heart died in that moment, and I wished I’d never awoken to this shattered reality.

Swallowing my despair, I answered, “Nothing. I remember nothing.” How could I explain that I knew so much about her? How did I know Nina had a small birth mark right by her belly button? Or that she comforted me when Nikolai and I told her the truth. Oh God, was Nikolai here, too? Why was he in my coma-fantasy?

Nina winced. Was she wincing because of the brace around her neck and her injuries, or something else? I stared at her with all my strength, trying to understand.

Joslyn tugged her hands free and rummaged in her pocket. Holding a piece of paper up, she showed me first.

My breath turned to icicles in my lungs, arctic wind whistled in my body.

It was a newspaper article. It was crinkled and torn, looking old, rather than breaking news. “How old is this?”

She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I’ll tell you after you’ve read it.”

On Tuesday, 3
^rd
of March, Kiwi Air 93, on route from Sydney to Samoa, suffered a series of malfunctions approximately two hundred kilometres from their final destination.

The pilots, Captain John Anderson and co-pilot Liam Mikin, dealt with utmost professionalism and skill. According to passengers who survived the crash, they suffered a severe descent, along with extreme turbulence.

The plane was flown to Samoa, despite the issues. A distress call was registered with air traffic control at 1610 hours.

Mack Collins, head traffic controller had this to say:

“It was like a meteorite slammed into the earth. I’ve never heard the crunch of metal so loud in my life. The aircraft turned into a tin can and the runway was the can opener. The left engine hit tarmac as the wing tore off and exploded, sending wreckage and shrapnel into the cabin. It took three fire engines to dampen the blaze.

After talking to John Anderson and Liam Mikin over the frequency as they prepared to land, I know how hard they were both working to stay airborne. Everyone who survived owes their life to them.”

Kiwi Air has begun the investigation into what caused the malfunction and ultimately the crash of KA93.

Out of the one hundred and thirty-seven souls on board, not including the crew, eighty-eight survived.

A special remembrance service was held last Saturday for the two crew members who lost their lives.
 

My head slammed against the pillow.
Ouch.
My hand shot to my hairline, finding it heavily wrapped in bandages. A constant ache throbbed beneath it, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the headaches I’d had by the waterfall or on the beach.

I swallowed hard. I already knew who died.

“What is it? Can I read it?” Nina asked, awkwardly reaching for it, despite being restricted with her neck brace.

Joslyn plucked the article from my numb fingers and passed it to Nina.

Captain Anderson and Samantha were dead. I knew that with terrible certainty. It didn’t explain what they were doing in my coma. How did I conjure such a life like reality when I was knocked out for God knows how long?

Nina sucked in a watery breath as she finished reading. “Anderson and Samantha. They’re dead. Aren’t they?”

My eyes narrowed. She guessed, too. How did she know? Did she suffer the same visions when she was knocked out? How long had she been asleep? I needed to know more. Lying in a backless hospital gown weak as a kitten wasn’t cutting it.

Something niggled me. Sam and Anderson… they were in my dream-coma… and then they…left.

I reached out, paying for my fast movement with jagged spasms of pain. I grabbed Joslyn’s hand. Dates. I didn’t have a timeline. “Did Sam and Anderson die at the crash or at hospital?” If it was at hospital, perhaps I wasn’t as out of it as I thought. Somehow that knowledge filtered into my dream world.

Joslyn’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears. “They died the following evening. Almost at the same time.”

I stole a glance at Nina, bracing myself as hope flared inside me. If I’d picked up on that, perhaps I wasn’t so alone. Was she there after all? Did she live through what I did? What if everything
had
happened between us?

Nina didn’t look at me. Instead, she plucked the bedspread, her head cocked at an angle from the brace. “Were they in pain?”

“I’m not sure. I was in and out of conscious myself, but from the reports Samantha died of internal bleeding, and Anderson died from a brain haemorrhage.” They never woke from the crash. I like to think they just drifted off in their sleep, oblivious, and softened with morphine.”

Two nurses pressed closer, checking their watches.

Joslyn gave us a sad smile. “Anyway, I need to let you rest. Now you’re awake, the doctors will want to do tests; make sure you’re okay.”

I didn’t want her to go, she was the link to this nightmare I’d awoken in, but I smiled and nodded. “Thanks for staying with us.”

Nina burst out. “How long have we been unconscious?”

Joslyn retreated to the end of the bed, before saying, “Twenty-two days.”

T
wenty-two days? That didn’t add up in my little fantasy world. The world where I fell for Liam and enjoyed the most amazing time of my life. The world where I wasn’t barred from being my true self—the girl who chased what she wanted. 

It was all fiction.

Every touch.

Every caress.

It was all make-believe. A trick, a fairytale my brain conjured from fabrication.

I couldn’t look Liam in the eye. What if he thought I was a freak who woke up in love with him? Maybe I
was
a freak? I created a better world than the one I lived while in a coma.

Liam shifted beside me.

I froze, not knowing what to do. If I looked at him, he’d know I loved him, but… he’d reacted to my voice and came back, even when the paddles weren’t working. Why, after twenty-two days, did we both need resuscitating, at the exact same moment? What changed?