by Katz, Gayle
By now, the rest of the first class passengers had been routed into the galley area. It was a good thing that the flight wasn’t full. Owen ran back to the curtains and peered out. The flight attendant had managed to make it to the back of the plane, while the air marshal was using a knife and stabbing rabid people through the eye socket. They quickly dropped to the ground.
“What is happening?” asked Akello.
“Hey! Get in the back!” yelled Owen. “It’s a zombie attack.”
“Zombies? Those aren’t real!”
“Tell that to them.” He watched as three women with gray skin and green glowing eyes surrounded a man. But he was smart enough to leap over the top of the seat. He landed in the aisle, and then raced to the back of the plane where the male flight attendant was beckoning to him.
“Sir, get into the bathroom now!”
“There’s no room!”
“Get on top of the effin sink! There is plenty of room!”
“Oh right,” he said, obeying. The man kicked down a shelf. “Room for one more.”
The flight attendant grabbed a small child and handed her inside. The man in the sink grabbed her, and then placed her carefully onto the small shelf.
“There. Done,” said the attendant, slamming the door closed.
“But what about you?” called out the man from inside the bathroom.
“Don’t worry about me.”
At this point, the three bathrooms at the back of the plane were all full. Passengers pushed at him, hoping to escape the zombies in the cabin. But there was nowhere else to go. They filled up the space in the back. Perhaps out of sight was out of mind.
“Owen! Get back here now!” called out his dad.
“Coming! Close that door, Dad.” He made sure his parents were secure, and then backed up and went to the first-class galley.
“Finally! We weren’t going to wait any longer.”
Owen stepped back. It was crowded in there. The flight attendant pushed the vinyl-folding curtain over the entrance, and then looped the end through a hook on the end.
“Now, I suggest we remain very, very quiet,” the female flight attendant said.
Owen backed up onto the counter. He used his two hands to lift himself up into a seated position on the counter.
“Good idea,” whispered Akello, doing the same. He dropped his bag behind him.
Owen frowned when he saw the bag, remembering that Akello had said that he had the ancient mask in it.
“You should get rid of that thing,” said Owen.
“Why? It’s an ancient relic. It’s quite valuable.”
“Because it holds a curse.”
Everyone in the small galley space looked at Owen in fright. They had seen for themselves what was happening in the economy class cabin.
“What tribe is it from anyway?”
“Oh, that’s what I forgot to mention,” said Akello. “I haven’t been able to identify it with any tribe in Africa. It’s almost like it’s South American in origin.”
Owen kept on looking at the bag. “You might be right. I wonder how it got buried in the ground in the heart of Uganda?”
Akello shook his head. “You tell me, since you’re suddenly the expert.”
Owen grimaced. “I’m not an expert. I go by what my senses are telling me. And they are telling me that something is up with your relic. However, I have the feeling that it was buried deep in the ground on purpose.”
“But, why didn’t someone set it on fire?” asked the flight attendant.
“Yeah!” said everyone else who was cramped into that galley.
“I don’t know. People used to travel a lot in the past,” said Akello. “Perhaps someone stole it from ancient burial grounds somewhere in South America, and then brought it to Uganda.”
“And now you’ve brought the curse here,” said Owen. He jumped off the counter and pushed past the two ladies who were in the middle of the small space. He reached around Akello and grabbed his bag.
“Hey!”
Owen kept the bag out of his reach and tossed it onto the other counter. He made his way back to his counter and pulled himself back up. He then grabbed the bag and unzipped it. Inside was a small cardboard box. He took it out, and then tossed the bag back to Akello, who grabbed it in one smooth move.
“Careful, kid. That’s something that can’t be replaced.”
“I should hope not,” replied Owen. He pulled open the cardboard lid and looked inside. There was tissue paper, so he carefully pulled it aside. He took one look at what was beneath and nearly dropped the package.
“Holy shitskies,” said Owen.
“Interesting, isn’t it?” asked Akello.
Everyone else in the galley took a look. Many drew back in horror.
“This isn’t a mask,” said Owen.
“No? I thought it was made from leather. It has an unusual mottled texture, doesn’t it?” Akello just went with it. He would get the mask back shortly.
Then Owen started laughing, because he didn’t know what else to do. “This is not a mask. And it’s not leather, or at least animal-based anyway.”
“Uh, that’s not a head, is it?” someone called out from the crowd.
“It can’t be. That’s too small to be a head,” said Akello.
“Yes,” said Owen, “this is a human head.”
“What? No! How can that be?” asked the flight attendant.
Now that Owen had everyone’s attention, he replied, “This, my friends, is what we call a shrunken head. And, it’s cursed.”
Everyone oohed and ahhed. The head was far more interesting than having something cursed in their midst.
“I think this is why there are zombies onboard the aircraft,” explained Owen.
“What?” asked the attendant.
“That’s ridiculous,” said Akello. “There is no such thing. In my entire career, I’ve never seen or heard such a thing.”
“When did you find this?” asked Owen.
“Why, about a year and a half ago, I think.”
“That was when the zombie outbreak first started.”
Akello winced. “You’re right. But, you mean terrorists, not zombies.”
Owen laughed. “There are no terrorists. Those were zombies.”
Akello’s voice grew louder. “But those terrorists had big huge weapons. They killed many people.”
Everyone listened at the argument in awe.
“No, they were zlayers and they were killing the zombies so that they didn’t eat or bite and turn other humans. Get your facts straight!”
“OK, kid. That’s enough of story time. Give me the head back.”
Owen did as asked, as he didn’t want that thing in his possession any longer. “Here, it’s horrid.”
“Thanks, kid,” said Akello, putting it back in his bag.
Owen hoped his parents were doing well in the small bathroom.
“Well, at least you’re bringing it back to its home. Perhaps the curse will be lifted. Maybe you should take it back to South America, or the Amazon,” suggested Owen.
Akello nodded. “That’s not a bad idea. I’m sure they could tell me more about it.”
“Shhh,” said the flight attendant.
There was the sound of stomping feet from the other side of the curtain. Then there were noises of moaning and groaning.
Owen silently was glad that at least his parents were behind a more secure part of the plane than he was.
“Let’s get these trolleys placed in front of the curtain,” said the attendant. She slowly pulled out one of the trolleys from its storage spot under the counter. It was covered in dirty dishes and food debris. She pushed it up against the curtain. “It should give us a couple more minutes at least.”
Owen jumped when the vinyl curtain bulged inward with a loud snapping sound. The people in the galley quickly helped to move a second trolley beside the first one.
“Is there anything we can put on top?” he whispered, looki
ng frantically around the galley.
“No, that’s it. But we can hide under the counters now. Maybe cover them with our jackets or something. It might buy us a bit more time.” She crawled under one of the counter spaces. Some of the other passengers got in there with her.
Owen let the others take the other space. There wasn’t enough room for everyone. Akello remained on the other counter, so Owen stayed where he was too.
“Attention, ladies and gentlemen,” said the pilot over the loudspeaker. Everyone in the galley was startled and jumped. “This is your captain speaking. Apparently, we are in a bad situation here. Some people were sick and have gone crazy, causing injuries to others. I advise that if you can get to safety, do so.”
Owen looked at Akello and shrugged. What more could be done?
The voice continued. “I am going to do my best to land this plane. Right now, we are descending down to the airport. If you’re not in your seat, then please hold on. We have paramedics waiting at the gate to treat your injuries.”
“What the eff?” said Akello. “They have NO idea what’s going on out here!”
“Are there any knives here?” asked Owen.
Someone rummaged around in a plastic box. “No, just plastic knives. And forks. But I think the knives are a better option.” The man handed them out.
Owen used one to stab the countertop. It broke. “Useless,” he murmured, but he took three more from him. He held them all together. Maybe that would be strong enough to stop a zombie, if he had to.
Chapter 9
________________________________________
Owen felt the pressure inside his ears as the plane slowly descended to a lower altitude. At first it was a hard pressure, then his ears started popping, which made them feel better. His hearing cleared up and he could hear better now. His eyes flicked worriedly to where the zombies were trying to get in. The vinyl curtain rattled and rolled.
Back in the first-class and the economy-class cabins, the screams had stopped. If there was anyone left alive, they were hiding.
The male flight attendant was still alive, hiding down between two rows of seats. He had made a blanket fort. A few zombies were walking back and forth down the aisles. They’d grunt and push at each other as they passed.
A few small children actually hid under the seats. So far, the zombies hadn’t seen them. They remained silent. They had quickly learned that zombies were attracted to sound.
One lady sat in her seat. She’d been bitten in the arm. She waited, knowing that soon her skin would turn gray and her eyes would glow green like the zombies in the center aisle.
The attendant noted how the zombies seemed to lose interest in those who had been bitten and turned. But if the zombies kept on biting, eventually that person would bleed to death and die.
He tried not to think about how zombies were littered all over the cabin and in the seats. He was glad that at least some people were hidden in the bathrooms at the front and back of the plane. They were the lucky ones. They would survive.
zzz
Owen looked at the curtain. A gray hand, with several bloody skin tears, felt its way through the small gap. One of the passengers used a wine bottle and swatted at it. The hand pulled away.
“How many of them are there?” whispered Akello.
Owen shrugged. “At least four, I think.”
“There are ten of us in here,” he replied. “We outnumber them.”
“I know, but let’s hang on. The plane should be landing soon.”
But the hands must have grabbed onto the curtain somehow because suddenly there was a loud ripping sound. The hook it was attached to on the wall pulled away, leaving a large gap. A zombie with green glowing eyes and bruises all over its face peered in through the gap. Its hands reached out to grab onto the trolley. Cups and trays toppled off.
“Now what?” called out Akello. “They’ve found us!”
“I guess we’ll have to get ready and fight,” Owen replied.
zzz
In the middle of the plane, the flight attendant was getting worried. The zombies were becoming restless. They were pacing back and forth much more quickly. Then he got an idea, but it meant leaving his secret hiding spot and heading to the back of the plane. And that was if he could get past the zombies that were milling around at the back where the bathrooms were, because they knew there was food inside.
zzz
Owen picked up a wine bottle and started swatting at the hands of the zombie. He tried to pull the curtain back to its closed position, but there was nothing to latch it onto, as the hook had broken away.
“Hey. I have an idea,” said the flight attendant. “On three, we shove these two trolleys as hard as we can against the zombies.”
“OK,” said Owen. “It’s worth a try.”
“One, two, three, go!” she cried out.
The two of them shoved the carts hard through the curtain and against the zombies outside. The zombies screeched out loud.
“Now what?” said Owen, realizing they hadn’t thought the plan through well enough.
“Bring them back,” she said, pulling her own cart back.
Owen did the same, and then helped her adjust the curtain. He had an idea, so he pulled out some keys from his pocket, ones that he’d never be using again, but that he kept as memorabilia. He held them in his hands with the sharp ends pointing out.
“Great idea!” she said. “If only I could reach my bag, but it’s on the other side of the plane.”
“Is there any way to secure that curtain?” he asked. He knew that soon the zombies would recover their balance and be back at it.
“Well, the loop on the end could be attached to something around the counter, I think. But I’d need a piece of rope or something.”
A woman held out her decorative scarf.
“And that would work. Thanks!” The attendant threaded the scarf through the loop, and then pulled the curtain hard so it rested against the edge of the wall. Next, she tied the scarf around the coffee maker. “There, that should hold for at least two minutes.”
The zombies launched themselves against the curtain again. It bulged inward, and the trolleys smashed forward, but Owen and the woman quickly pushed them back.
“I don’t know how much longer we can keep on doing this!” cried out Owen.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are going to try and stop some of these zombies,” announced the pilot. “I suggest you grab onto something, if you haven’t already.”
“Grab onto something? What is he trying to do?” asked Owen.
“Get down on the ground!” yelled out the flight attendant. “I know exactly what he’s going to do!” She dropped to the floor.
Owen had no sooner crouched on the ground then the entire plane’s back end plummeted suddenly. Owen and the attendant toppled to the back of the galley. The passengers who were under the counters were holding on tightly so they didn’t do the same. Akello rolled against the back wall on the counter.
“Oh damn!” called out Owen, as the plane suddenly righted itself. Then the forward end dropped down.
zzz
“Ahhh!” screamed the passengers who were still alive. A loud thud sounded throughout the plane as dozens of bodies hit the floor.
“Stop! Stop!” called out someone from the back who was still alive.
“What’s happening?” called out Akello. “Is the pilot turning into a zombie?”
Owen held onto the counter. “I don’t think so. I think he’s doing it on purpose.”
“Well, it’s working,” said the flight attendant, “but I think it’s hurting the people who are still left alive too.”
“Well, better to treat broken bones than a dead zombie,” called out Owen.
“Yes, if there is anyone left alive.”
The plane finally righted itself. Everyone in the galley sighed.
“Did that stop them?” asked Akello.
“I hope so,” said Owen, realizing that he was stil
l gripping the countertop above him. He finally let go.
No one was warned when the plane suddenly hit the ground. Owen bounced off the floor of the plane, and then landed back down hard. He saw the others try to gain their balance. Then they heard the plane’s engines suddenly slow down and felt the drag as the plane slowed down.
“We made it!” called out Owen. He looked around at everyone. They were relieved.
“Let’s hope that most of the people made it,” said Akello.
Then the plane abruptly stopped. The rear end went up a few feet, and then slammed back down on the pavement. This shook everyone, but then they caught their balance and laughed.
“Last one off is a zombie,” said Owen, rushing to where the two trolleys were. He pulled one away from the curtain, while the flight attendant removed the other one.
The zombies were on the other side, in a jumbled mess of limbs and blood.
“Quick, before they notice,” he said, waving people forward. He saw that the bathroom door was open, so his parents must have made it safely out. He hopped over the debris in the aisle to help the rest of passengers exit the plane.
“Quick! This way,” said Owen, beckoning everyone out.
He peered out the door. Someone had activated the emergency blow-up ramp. He didn’t even think about it, even though he was scared of heights. He was done with this journey and hoped to never be on a plane ever again, even if it meant spending the rest of his life in the United States. He jumped.
His body slid down the ramp. Soon, he hit the bottom.
Two armed military men grabbed him and practically dragged him across the pavement.
“Hey! What the hell! I want to see my parents.”
“Relax,” said the taller of the two. “First you need to get checked out by the medics. Then you can see your parents, if they’re still alive.”
No one asked Owen’s permission for anything. He was abruptly pushed down onto a chair. A nurse quickly wiped his arm with a cotton puff, then jabbed the needle in. When she was happy, she pulled it out.