Part Ridge

David never meant to be there, but Goliath was inevitable. The sleep was deeper than normal, forced further down into the subconscious by way of intravenous care. David was so far gone that even dreams were absent from his journey. While Goliath simply continued its steady lumbering forward, closer, and closer to an unforeseen destiny.

David received notice that he had been nominated for the esteemed Holsinger Honors award only a few days prior for his work in engineering. The ceremony was being held in Copenhagen, which was a long way to go for a man with severe aerophobia, but the recognition had come with a free flight aboard the state-of-the-art GA-900 “Sleeper” as a promotional effort by Goliath Air.

The Sleeper flights had only been operational for a few months, but for those who could afford them, there was no better for intercontinental travel. Upon arrival at Dulles airport, David was escorted to a new concourse that was dedicated to Goliath Air. Everything appeared to be truly first class, and in many ways resembled a somewhat luxurious hospital wing. Nurses dressed in company attire took him in to a private room where they checked and recorded his vital signs, and then he was made comfortable on a somewhat anemic gatch bed or stretcher. David asked several dozen questions while the nurses worked to connect the IV securely above his left hand. Still, he remained quite nervous.

In addition to his fear of flying, David had always suffered from severe allergies when travelling. Unfortunately, one of the rules for flying aboard the GA-900 required him to take no medications or eat any food within 12 hours of departure. David had abided by each, and every guideline presented to him ahead of the flight except one. When asked if he had eaten or taken any medication within the prescribed timeframe, David neglected to mention the strong dosage of allergy medicine that he had swallowed in his car just outside the airport.

Patrons of Goliath Air’s GA-900 could fly to any major airport in the world, and they could even change planes for the longest of trips, all while sound asleep. The passengers would be in medically induced slumber before boarding. Each bed, or lounger as they called them, would be carefully loaded aboard the plane, and secured before being inspected by the flight crew. Throughout the flights, the medically trained crew would monitor and inspect passenger’s vital signs while also managing the IV drips of sedatives to ensure that upon arrival, their guests would awaken feeling refreshed with virtually no knowledge of the inflight experience or looming jetlag whatsoever. A perfect fit for someone as afraid of flight as David, that is of course, unless you neglected to follow the rules.

The void of silence and darkness blurred its way into a cloudy landscape of the classroom where David spent his days. There was the old blackboard, and a half piece of chalk in his hand. He was addressing the class but had no control over his words. Near the front of the class, David could see Emery Black raise her hand and start speaking. She was without fail the smartest and most focused student he had this semester, and while he could not understand the words she was saying, his assumption was that it was something insightful. He turned his head towards the back of the room where Owen Edwards was being disruptive with his nearby classmates. David heard himself loudly calling out at young Mr. Edwards before the lad stood and walked out.

Owen’s father was a powerful and well-known politician from Virginia that had recently embarked on the presidential campaign trail. Secret Service agents had already been assigned to the school, but that did not stop the boy from almost constant rule bending. Just a few weeks prior, David himself had caught him smoking pot behind a large oak tree in the quad. When he presented this to the headmaster, his calls for expulsion were not only overruled, but he was told that he could not speak of the matter to anyone at any time. David shared with his girlfriend his intentions to reach out to the school’s board of directors about the matter just the night before getting the call about the Holsinger award. Since then, he hadn’t thought of much else.

“Es ist Zeit.” David heard the words clearly while the classroom faded away into darkness followed by a hazy light. He was waking up. The class had been a dream, or a memory. Was he already in Denmark? Why were the cabin attendants speaking German? “Alles was Sie tun müssen, ist diese Spritze mit seiner Infusion zu stecken und den Monitor auszuschalten.” David felt turbulence; they were still in flight. Something was wrong, perhaps the allergy medicine countered the sedative. David tried opening his eyes, but it was difficult. He focused on trying to translate the conversation. “All I need you to do is put this…”, David continued to try and wake up faster, “syringe in with his IV, and flip the monitor off.” Wait, what was that? David felt somewhat clearer as the adrenaline began to flow. His eyes started opening, he could feel his fingers and legs starting to move, and then he heard, “Es ist der Passagier im Bett 21-A. David Pflanzer.”

“It’s the passenger in bed 21’A. David Planter.” What the Hell?!? David felt an extreme surge of adrenaline and energy rush down his spine, and he sat upright very quickly. The attendants, one male and one female, turned and shouted, “What are you doing?!” David rolled his body as hard as he could towards the center of the aisle. He was tethered to the bed at his wrists, so the entire unit collapsed between him and the crew. Both arm rails broke in the fall, and David stood on wobbly legs with them hanging below each of his hands as he saw the large male attendant rushing towards him.

“What is going on?!” David shouted. The man was now running through rows of sleeping passengers and plastic hoses directly at him. He had barely time to raise his arms to shield himself before the man jumped at him over the fallen bed. Both David and the assailant fell upon impact. The IV ripped from his arm, spraying blood across the otherwise white on white surroundings. David looked down as the man began to pull himself up, and then he noticed the gun. The man must have dropped it when they collided. Without thought, David held the weapon and pointed it squarely at the man’s face. Both anger and fear flashed across the man’s eyes, but he did not move an inch.

“Holen Sie sich die andere Waffe! Hol ihn dir!” David understood, “Get the other gun! Get him!”. He stepped carefully around the man towards the back of the plane without dropping his guard. More men came rushing towards him from the front, all shouting in German. One of these men raised his hand and pointed another gun towards David. Then he fired. David felt the vibration from the impact on the wall next to him. He turned and moved to the very furthest point in the back of the plane where the crew would have rolled the stretchers onto the plane. There was nothing there to shield him; it was an empty space of metal ramps and tiedown straps. He was trapped.

David raised the weapon and pointed, but when he pulled his finger on the trigger, nothing happened. He did not know what was wrong, and he thought his inexperience with guns could now be his end. He looked around frantically as the men clambered over the fallen bed. They would be on him in moments. He looked up and saw the thing that would probably kill him, but he was out of options. David through the gun at the men and slammed his hand into the large red switch upon the rear wall. None of the men came any closer to him, but his new problem might be even worse.

When the back of the large cargo plane opened, David was convinced he would be sucked out. That did not happen, but he would ultimately find the same fate. As he tried to hug the outer wall of the plane, the large man who had first attacked him walked confidently towards him, laughing. David was terrified. The man reached his massive arm across the opening and held David firmly by his shoulder. “Da unten liegen die schottischen Highlands. Kein schlechter Ort zum Sterben, nehme ich an.” We’re over northern Scotland? David looked down and saw the tops of mountains covered in snow far below him. “Auf Wiedersehen, David.” “No!”, David shouted, but it was too late. He rolled quickly down the ramp and began to fall.

The fall seemed slow and surreal at first. He watched the plane moving away rapidly, and the ramp at the back begin to close. Panic had yet to take over, and David, ever the logician, began to work the situation. The mountains were quite tall, and he immediately tried to maneuver himself through the air towards the closest and tallest option. The slope of the mountain was not terribly severe, and there appeared to be a great deal of snow upon the upper third of it. David pulled the two handrails, still secured to his wrists, under his body, and positioned himself as close to the angle of the descending mountain as possible. Naturally, it was a longshot, but he needed an option, and he could feel the fear coming on strong.

From the moment he exited the plane until he reached the peak of the mountain lasted just over 100 seconds, but to David, it dragged on for hours. He walked through his life decisions, his loves and losses, his profession, the things he had yet to do, and then he began thinking about what had transpired and what any of this had to do with him. And then he collided with a mountain.

The initial impact was extreme, and he immediately felt most of his ribs break, and possibly his spine. The snow was deep and soft, but at terminal velocity, nothing was kind. David rolled and bounced around with no sense of direction whatsoever. Despite the obvious pain he would experience, he had surrendered to the situation, and was primarily searching for a breath after having all the oxygen forced from his lungs upon impact. Eventually, he found himself sliding atop one of the bedrails down the side of the snowy mountain. The other rail was gone entirely. He estimated that he was moving as fast as a car on the highway at this point, but he was alive. The world spun around him as he started to slow his descent. The snow became patchy, and he felt his skin rip away on rocks and sticks. He could not move; his only choice was to continue rolling until he came to a stop at the base of a tree.

David laid on his back near the base of a mountain somewhere in the Scottish Highlands. He stared up at what he thought might be the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. It was a pear tree in full bloom. He did not know what had prompted the actions that forced him here. He did not know who the men were that tried to kill him. He did not know if he would be found, or even survive. But he did know that he was alive; at least for the moment, and that the white and pink flowers above him, stacked against a perfect blue sky were beautiful. And in this moment, David closed his eyes and waited, with hope against hope, that someone would come along and save him.