Jillian's First Flight Part 3
Jillian watched as the last of the packages were loaded on her plane, then she clambered aboard and prepped the plane for her return trip. A few minutes later, she was fueled and ready to go. As she turned the ignition and the sputtered to life, Spooky meowed above the roar of the engine, “Remember all the packages need to be delivered tonight.”
With a wave of her grey striped paw, Jillian indicated that she understood, and then taxied down the tarmac and took off, her plane groaning in protest.
A few minutes later, an indicator light buzzed on the dashboard and Jillian brought the plane in low, over a group of houses in a quiet neighborhood. As she neared a brown house with white trim, the light flashed a solid red and Jillian pulled a green round lever that was located near the pedals of the plane. With a pop, a package dropped out of the tail of the plane and fell towards the house. When it was a few feet from the ground, a small pink parachute, marked Jillian’s express, shot out from the top of the package, slowing it down to the point that it bumped lightly on the ground. “One down, twenty to go.” Jillian meowed to herself as she lifted the shuddering plane into the night sky.
About an hour later, she had delivered nineteen of the twenty packages and had only one remaining. Dark clouds had blocked out the moons light and Jillian shivered with concern when a few minutes later a strong northern wind picked up, that was quickly followed by a pounding rain. Lighting flashed, striking the tip of the wing, sending the plane into a spiraled dive. Jillian fought for control and managed to regain control right before she smashed into the ground. Climbing back up into the night sky, Jillian meowed weakly, “That was a close one.”
A few minutes later, the red light buzzed on and Jillian descended to make her last delivery. As she did so, lighting flashed out of the night sky and struck the engine of her little plane. It bursts into flames and Jillian knew that it was done for. Angling the burning craft away from the house, she looked for a place to make an emergency landing. There was none. Pulling the plane back into the sky, Jillian searched for the nearest place. A few miles to the east, lay the Atlantic Ocean. That would have to do.
Within a few minutes, Jillian had reached the Atlantic. The flames had continued to grow and had now begun to lick the gas tank. Climbing to the rear of the plane, Jillian looked at the ocean and hissed, “I hate water.” And then she jumped.
