The Boy Who Took the Controls of Flight Seven Eight Two
“We are almost at the breathing limit,” Malachi said. “Grace, get ready for the ram air.”
I stood up, holding the back of the observer’s seat to steady myself against the turbulence.
I looked at the overhead panel.
The array of lights was dizzying, a sea of green, white, and amber switches.
“Where is it?” I asked.
“Middle column,” Malachi said, his eyes glued to the windshield as the dark clouds began to thin. “Look for the section marked *L-PACK* and *R-PACK*. Below that.”
I scanned the labels.
*RAM AIR.*
It was covered by a small, red plastic flap.
“I see it,” I said.
“Wait until we hit ten thousand,” Malachi said. “Otherwise, the cabin will depressurize too fast.”
“Twelve thousand,” I read.
“Ten thousand,” Malachi called out a moment later. “Now, Grace! Pull it!”
I flipped the red plastic cover up and pulled the metal toggle switch down.
A loud, rushing roar erupted from the vents.
It sounded like a vacuum cleaner running right next to my ear.
A blast of freezing, damp air hit my face.