The Closest Exit May Be Behind You

My ponytail whipped behind me as I sprinted to Terminal C. There was no way I could miss my connecting flight.

Dodging screaming children and reckless travelers, I stumbled to gate C24. The jetway was empty.

"I’m Jodi Spalding. I'm...I'm supposed to be on this flight," I huffed.

The American Airlines employee smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, Miss Spalding, but boarding is complete."

No, no, no.

"Please, I need to be on this plane."

"I'm sorry, but we cannot reopen the gate once it’s been closed."

I squeezed my eyes shut and rubbed my forehead. "Are there any other flights to DC today?"

She pursed her lips and tapped furiously on the keyboard of her computer with her fake pink nails.

"I'm afraid we don't have any other outgoing flights today, but I can get you on a flight tomorrow morning, if you'd like."

Damnit.

"No, thank you."

I gripped the straps of my overstuffed backpack and walked to the main concourse. Another airline must have something.

Approaching the towering screen of departures, I scanned for anything going to DC, my eyes glazing over. How were there no other flights from Philadelphia to DC?

I was about to give up when I spotted an airline I didn't recognize: ComfortAir. There was one ComfortAir flight to DC. My heart leaped when I saw the departure time.

Gate A12, here I come.

-

Slumping into my last-minute window seat, my lungs deflated in relief. I would be landing at Dulles Airport in an hour, just in time for the conference. I would keep my job for another day.

I shoved my earbuds into my ears as an older woman with blonde hair took the seat next to me. She smiled politely as she buckled her seatbelt.

"Remember that the closest exit may be behind you..."

The pre-recorded safety spiel droned in the background of my music. Then, the high-pitched voice of a flight attendant crackled through the speakers.

"For our premium members, if you would like complimentary comfort services, please press the blue button above your seat and our in-flight doctor or nurse will be with you shortly. As always, your comfort is our priority!"

The woman next to me wasted no time in pushing the blue button. I had no idea what the "comfort services" entailed, but an in-flight doctor and a nurse?

Several minutes later, a clean-shaven middle-aged man with a navy-blue lab coat appeared in the aisle with a clipboard. He nodded at the woman next to me.

"Hi, Susan. My name is Doctor Hanssen. I have a few questions for you before we administer any services."

I slid a glance at Susan.

"Have you had nitrous oxide administered to you in the past? If so, have you had any adverse reactions to nitrous oxide?"

Wait...

Nitrous oxide?

Laughing gas? They're giving out laughing gas on a plane?!

Stunned, I stared at the seat in front of me, failing to hear the rest of the conversation.

How was this considered safe?

The metallic clink of keys jolted me out of my trance as Doctor Hanssen unlocked a compartment above Susan's head. A mask, like the generic oxygen mask everyone was shown during the safety demonstration but with green markings, dropped in front of Susan's face. The doctor helped Susan fasten the mask and then adjusted the knob overhead. He locked the compartment before patting Susan on the shoulder.

"The starter dose will help you relax and then we can increase the flow as needed. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Susan nodded and closed her eyes.

-

Doctor Hanssen increased Susan's dose as we were taxiing for takeoff, and the subtle hiss of gas pierced my ears as we ascended. I still couldn't wrap my head around the whole idea.

Was laughing gas really necessary, especially on such a short flight?

I guess the gas was working its magic since Susan remained asleep in her seat with little movement.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we'll be starting our descent into Washington, D.C. Please fasten your seatbelts."

After the pilot’s announcement, Doctor Hanssen returned and unlocked the compartment above Susan to decrease her dose as we landed.

Susan's eyelids fluttered as she was released from her drug-induced slumber. She sat peacefully for a few minutes until she sprung up in her seat with white knuckles gripping the armrests, her pupils so dilated her eyes went black. The setting sun lit her hair on fire, painting her in an eerie orange glow.

Something wasn't right.

I gulped.

The plane’s landing gear slammed onto the runway and Susan ripped off her mask and threw off her seatbelt. Panting, her wild eyes stared as she whispered to me.

“I need to get out of here…”

“It’s okay, we’re almost to the gate. You’ll be able to get off soon,” I reassured her, searching for the doctor. Where the hell was Doctor Hanssen?

“You don’t understand…I can’t stay here!”

Susan’s voice elevated to a shout as she frantically jumped out of her seat. The other passengers gasped, their full attention now on the crazed woman.

“I need to get out!”

A tiny flight attendant hustled down the aisle.

“Ma’am, please return to your seat.”

Susan ignored her and pushed her way through the row behind us on the other side.

The emergency exit row.

Everyone watched in shock as Susan grabbed the handle and wrenched open the emergency door. A rush of air filled the cabin and Susan walked out onto the wing undaunted. The plane was still moving.

People screamed and looked on in horror.

Doctor Hanssen ran to the threshold, coaxing Susan to come back into the cabin. The in-flight nurse came to stand in the aisle behind the doctor. She folded her arms across her chest and sighed.

“Just another bad reaction.”