Plane Crash

By R. Michael McKee

Plane Crash is the story of a scrap metal dealer who, along with his family, is killed when a charter plane they are in crashes in the forest of The Great Smoky Mountains. Agent Sylvester Grant of the Drug Enforcement Agency must join forces with agents from the National Transportation Safety Board, the Federal Bureau of

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rustik Haws LLC
• Release date: Jul 20, 2020
• ISBN: 9781649341044

R. Michael McKee

R. Michael McKee is a new author who is single and lives in the Greater Cincinnati area. He has worked in the auto industry for most of his career. He earned a Bachelor's Degree in Psychology with a minor in Sociology. He has a passion for all things mechanical, adventure novels, and murder mysteries.

Book preview

ECVR_PLANE_CRASH.jpg

Plane Crash by R. Michael McKee

This is a work of fiction. All names of characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2020 by R. Michael McKee

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or distributed in any form by any means, including, but not limited to, recording, photocopying, or taking screenshots of parts of the book, without prior written permission from the author or the publisher. Brief quotations for noncommercial purposes, such as book reviews, permitted by Fair Use of the U.S. Copyright Law, are allowed without written permissions, as long as such quotations do not cause damage to the book’s commercial value. For permissions, write to the publisher, whose address is stated below.

ISBN:

978-1-952617-03-4 Paperback

978-1-952617-04-1 Hardback

978-1-64934-104-4 eBook

Printed in the United States of America.

Rustik Haws LLC

100 S. Ashley Drive, Suite 600

Tampa, FL 33602

https://www.rustikhaws.com/

¹ The Crash

The day began like most others, slow and painful. The plane crash had taken its toll on Jim Sanders, a tall athletically built man with dark brown hair that sometimes was difficult to control. There was a scar about an inch and a half long over his left eye and one even longer on his right cheek. At age thirty seven, mornings often made Jim feel as though he was twice his age. His back had been broken in three places and he also suffered a cracked vertebrae in his neck. Both legs were broken and so was one finger in the crash that had taken place just over a year ago. Of all the injuries he had suffered, the one that seemed the most frustrating was the partial memory loss caused by the concussion. Jim often wondered if he would ever feel normal again. He was still in rehab and he knew the end of their torturing him would not be soon. Pain had become a way of life and so had the pain killers. Jim hated taking them but without them he simply couldn’t function at all. The simplest of tasks were often rewarded with intense shooting pain on top of the constant pain he suffered in his back, so he reasoned the pills were the lessor of two evils. Today, like so many days before, Jim was struggling to get dressed and ready to meet the day’s challenges.

****

Jim had been the pilot of the twin engine Cessna 414A Chancellor Airplane that had been his dream come true. Few people realize their dreams by the age of thirty three but Jim had worked hard to get where he was and for the last three years he had in fact, been living his dream. Then in an instant, that dream vanished. In its place was left agonizing pain and the memories. Memories of the moment he realized the plane was in trouble. Memories of fighting to keep it in the air and the worst memories of all, the screams of the people who were on that plane. Five people had entrusted their lives to Jim Sanders that day as they lifted off the runway of a small airport outside of Gatlinburg, Tennessee bound for Indianapolis, Indiana. Operating Jim’s shuttle service for vacationers had proven quite lucrative and business was booming. Shortly after takeoff, engine one lost power and began to pour smoke out of the exhaust. Jim grabbed the microphone and began radioing that they were in trouble and that he was trying to fly clear of the mountains but even as he spoke he knew the plane was losing altitude and would not see flat ground before it was too late. Something else was wrong too because Jim knew that he should be able to fly and land his plane with one engine but for some reason, engine two wasn’t producing enough power to keep the plane aloft. In a matter of moments the plane settled onto the tops of the trees. The sound in the passenger compartment was deafening as tree branches began to rip apart the plane’s fuselage. It seemed as though all the glass shattered at the same time sending shards throughout the cabin lacerating anything in their path. As the plane continued to break apart, Jim felt as though he had been thrown down a flight of stairs bouncing hard on every step. Steps that seemed they would never end. At some point, the cabin dissolved and all forward movement ceased as what was left of the Jim’s twin engine dream impacted the ground. Jim’s seat had been torn from the floor and ejected from the cabin, landing a few yards from the plane with Jim still seat belted in place. He had amassed numerous injuries and was lucky to be alive, although later he wouldn’t feel so lucky. Fortunately, the crash had taken place not far from a main road and first responders were on site within a few minutes. Still unconscious, Jim laid there as medical personnel went about their task of assessing his physical condition and attending to his injuries. With great care they removed him from the seat and placed him on a gurney preparing him for the bumpy ride to the ambulance parked a few hundred yards away. The closest hospital was in Knoxville and it took over an hour to get there. Although the medical team had stabilized Jim, there was still some concern that he might not survive to get to the emergency room and if he did, the surgery required to repair his internal injuries would be risky at best. Still, the emergency room staff was alerted and the operating room prepared in anticipation of Jim’s arrival.

****

In the distance Jim could hear people talking but he couldn’t seem to make out what they were saying. It wasn’t that they were too far away but their words were muffled and garbled as though they stood in the middle of a large empty room where echoes abound. Darkness surrounded him but it seemed as though there was some light at the fringe of his vision and he felt disoriented and dizzy. He wanted to crawl into the light but the effort was just too great and slowly he felt himself slipping back into darkness. The voices faded away and again unconsciousness prevailed.

There! Jim thought. There are those voices again. I still can’t make out what they’re saying. The light, it’s coming closer. The voices, I... I think they’re talking to me.

Mr. Sanders! Mr. Sanders! Can you hear me? asked one of the voices.

I think so. said Jim. Who are you? Where am I? Jim tried to move, an effort that was met with an explosion of pain.

Don’t try to move. I’m Dr. James Wilson and you are in the hospital. Do you remember what happened?

Remember, remember, I’m not sure I do remember... Wait... yes, it’s, it’s coming back now. There was an accident. My plane, we went down.

That’s right. You were in a plane crash and you have numerous broken bones and internal injuries so you cannot try to move. Do you understand?

I’m sure if I forget, the pain will remind me. What about the people who were with me? How are they?

You need to rest right now. We’ll talk about the others later. Your pain medicine is going to make you sleepy so rest and mend. You’re in for a long recovery. I’ll be back to see you later. As Dr. Wilson turned to leave Jim felt himself drifting off to sleep but he was certain he heard the doctor tell his nurse not to say anything to him about the others who were on the plane.

Jim awakened and when he opened his eyes, he noticed the area that had become his new home was dark and fairly quiet with the exception of the electronic things that were attached to him to monitor his vitals and give him fluids. There was also the catheter that took those fluids away when he was finished with them. All in all, it was not his best day. As his eyes focused he realized that the little bit of light in the room was coming from the nurse’s station a few feet outside his door. He could hear the noises the nurses were making as they went about their nightly duties though they seemed to put forth an effort to be as quiet as possible. Jim guessed that to be a nice gesture but thought it was unnecessary considering his pain medicine kept him asleep most of the time. The swoosh of scrub covered legs announced to Jim that he had a visitor in his room and the silhouette of his attending nurse appeared at the foot of his bed. She began checking all the machines, the miles of tubing, the liquids and the drippy things that were attached both to him and the beeping wheezing boxes that surrounded his bed. Jim thought the collection of noises sounded like Darth Vader with a backup alarm.

How long have I been asleep? his voice was soft and scratchy.

For the better part of two days. Dr. Wilson doesn’t want you moving around. How do you feel?

Like I was in a plane crash. Who are you? I mean, what’s your name?

I’m Dana and I am your nurse tonight. You seem to have gotten yourself pretty banged up but it looks like you’re going to make it.

Would it be possible to have some water? I’m really thirsty.

Yes, you’re allowed to have some water. I’ll be right back

Thank you Dana. Dana smiled and left the room returning shortly with a pitcher of ice water and a plastic cup and straw.

The next day Jim was awake when Dr. Wilson came strolling into his room with Jim’s chart in hand. Dr. Wilson was a short man, maybe five feet six inches or so, and he was a little over weight. His hair line was receding, probably in part because he was always rubbing his head with his fingers as though lost in thought. He looked at Jim through a pair of wire rimmed glasses and began to talk to him about his condition. The doctor went in depth about the time it would take to recover and the lengthy rehab required to regain as much use of his body as possible. It was going to be a long road to recovery but Dr. Wilson seemed to think that Jim would end up with a full recovery. Considering the way he felt at that moment, he doubted the good doctor’s prognosis. Finally Dr. Wilson asked if Jim had any questions for him.

Jim replied, Yes I do. What about the five people who were on my plane? How are they?

Dr. Wilson laid Jim’s chart on the foot of his bed and removed his glasses. He bowed his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his right hand. For a moment he stood there not moving or saying a word and as he raised his head Jim realized the answer before the doctor ever uttered his first word.

I’m sorry Jim but they didn’t make it. They died at the scene and quite frankly I don’t know how you survived. You were a mess when you arrived in the ER and I really didn’t think you would survive the surgery but you did. Little by little you’re getting stronger. You are a pretty tough guy. Since we are on the subject, there is an agent from the National Transportation and Safety Board who wants to ask you some questions. Do you feel up to meeting with her?

Well, I guess I hadn’t given it much thought but I should have realized that the NTSB would get involved. I may as well meet the agent and get it over with.

If you like, I can arrange to be present in the event things start to get out of hand so I can usher her out of here.

Thank you doctor that would be nice.

****

At a little past 1:00 p.m. the next day, Jim was lying in bed with a body cast holding his back in place and a neck brace that kept him from turning his head. Both legs were in casts and there was a cast around his right hand and pinky. He also had bandages on his cheek and forehead. His body cast and manhood were draped with one of those wonderful hospital gowns that tie in the back. Jim felt more like a side show at the circus than a patient but realized he had little choice in the matter. Beside him stood Dr. Wilson rubbing his hairline with his hand as they talked. The doctor had promised to be there when the NTSB agent arrived and true to his word, he was there. Jim didn’t know if he was really there to send the NTSB agent away should he need him to or just to be nosy.Dr. Wilson hadn’t been in the room very long when there was a knock on the door and in walked a woman in her mid to late thirties. She was about five feet ten inches tall and slender but not thin. Her auburn hair fell around her face to her shoulders and her eye brows formed little lines above her large brown eyes. Her lips were colored red but not the bright stuff younger girls wore but a conservative red.Jim noticed that her torso was shorter than her legs and it made her appear to be even taller than she already was. Jim’s eyes were drawn to her pointed nose that seemed a little long and he wondered if maybe she had just told someone a lie. He thought she might have dimples in her cheeks but she didn’t smile and when she went to shake his hand he noticed how long her fingers were. She was wearing a grey skirt that hemmed at her knees and a matching jacket over a white blouse for a very professional look.

Hello Mr. Sanders. My name is Agent Sandra Beringer with the National Transportation Safety Board and I would like to ask you some questions. Do you feel up to talking with me for a while Mr. Sanders?

Yes I can do that. I’m pretty sore and I’m on some pain medicine so if I start to dose off, I’m sorry.

I appreciate your condition and I’ll try to be as brief as possible. What is your full name Mr. Sanders?

James Owen Sanders but please call me Jim.

And Mr. Sanders what is your birth date?

February 2, 1977. I’ve been known to predict when spring will start.

Mr. Sanders, today I would like to hear your account of what happened on the day your plane went down. Would you please recount for me the events as you remember them starting with your arrival at the airport.

Jim began from the time he arrived at the airport and recounted, as best as he could remember, what he had done before the takeoff as well as what the people who were flying with him, that day, had done. He noticed that Agent Beringer was taking notes as well as recording him as he spoke. He was obviously nervous when he described the engine failure and the decent into the trees but Agent Beringer didn’t seem to be moved even though five people had perished in that crash. Was she made of stone or was this her way of showing that she was tough and could do her job well? It bothered Jim that she showed no emotion at all and he wondered what it must be like to be married to such a woman as this. The thought of what he had endured that day brought tears to his eyes every time he replayed the events as he remembered them, yet this woman didn’t even blink. Finally, Jim finished his account of what happened that day and waited for the agent to respond, the images still very real in his mind.

I may have left some of it out. My memory is sketchy in some areas and some parts I don’t remember at all.

Mr. Sanders, I realize that you are still visibly shaken by what happened. I realize that crashes aren’t an everyday occurrence for you but is there anything that stands out to you that happened but didn’t seem to fit?

Jim thought for a moment and looked into her eyes and said, Yes there is something that has bugged me since the crash. I remember thinking that even though I had lost an engine, I should have been able to return to the airport easily with one engine yet I couldn’t keep that plane in the air. We were way under the weight capacity and engine two seemed to be operating fine but we still went down. I don’t understand how that could have happened.

Well Mr. Sanders, we too don’t understand why you were unable to make it back to the airport. If the problems were isolated to engine one then that plane should still be here and those five people should still be alive.

Jim thought, Well what do you know? She may actually have a heart in there somewhere after all.

"I’m sure that we will be speaking again Mr. Sanders. Here’s my card, if you think of anything that may be helpful, please give me a call. May I