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by Jack Lance


  Sharlene crossed over to them.

  ‘Yes, I’m sure,’ she heard the short man whisper. His eyes revealed barely controlled rage; he looked as though he was about to stamp his feet, or throw some other kind of hissy fit.

  Aaron remained a paragon of sobriety despite the man’s aggressive behavior. ‘We’re having some trouble with the flight map, yes, but there’s no need for concern,’ she heard him tell the man.

  ‘We are not going to Sydney!’ the short man whispered with as much conviction and righteousness as he could muster.

  ‘Everything is all right,’ Aaron deadpanned.

  ‘The hell we are!’ the man fumed, his temper rising with his voice. He started rubbing his temple, as Sharlene had seen him do before, and his face reddened. ‘You’re full of shit!’

  Sharlene doubted that Aaron had ever been spoken to in such a rude manner by a passenger. This man, she speculated, was not only angry, he was also not used to being contradicted.

  ‘Sir, please take your seat,’ Aaron said, in a tone of authority.

  The short man jerked his thumb toward the cockpit. ‘In there they know about it. You’re letting them fool you, but they won’t fool me.’

  ‘I’m telling you for the last time,’ Aaron said, his voice laced with warning. ‘Sit down and be quiet. You’re upsetting the other passengers.’ The man then saw Sharlene and cast her a menacing look. There was no avoiding those piercing eyes.

  His mouth went slack, and Sharlene had the unsettling feeling that he was looking straight through her, into her soul. He shoved Aaron out of his way and stepped toward her, his eyes looming.

  Suddenly his hand shot forward, and he clenched her wrist so tightly it hurt.

  ‘You, too?’ he asked, in a surprisingly quiet voice.

  ‘What?’ she mumbled.

  Aaron pulled the man’s hand away from her and positioned himself between them. Passengers seated nearby became keenly interested in the drama unfolding before them.

  ‘I’ve had just about enough of this,’ Aaron said tightly. ‘Take your seat, sir, or I will make you take your seat.’

  The man clenched his fists and held them out in a boxer’s stance. But then he dropped his hands and shook his head. ‘You’ll come to believe me, but by then it will be too late.’

  He peered at Sharlene a final time, as if searching for an answer of some kind. ‘Don’t let it get that far, you hear me? We’re not supposed to be here.’

  It sounded more like a plea than a demand. The man’s suddenly soft voice betrayed a level of fear that seemed entirely out of character. That overt expression of fear terrified Sharlene.

  The man did as he was bidden. He sat down and stared at his feet.

  ‘Call Mara and ask her to come back here right away,’ Aaron told Sharlene. ‘And have her bring Ray. They’ll need to keep an eye on this gentleman.’

  Despite Sharlene’s complex emotions, she had to comply with Aaron’s request. She walked back to the galley, but not before throwing a glance toward the stairway. Seeing no one there, she drew aside the galley curtain.

  She paged Gloria on the phone and informed her that Mara and Ray were needed on the upper deck because one of the passengers there was causing problems. As she talked to Gloria, she cast furtive glances over her shoulder.

  ‘I’ll send them up,’ Gloria assured her.

  When Sharlene returned the phone to its cradle, the words of that irate passenger in the upper deck echoed within her.

  We’re not supposed to be here.

  Then she left the galley and waited on the other side of the curtain.

  She heard footsteps coming up the stairs, Mara and Ray. She noted that Mara no longer had dimples in her cheeks. Her eyes were grim and sober from witnessing the death of a passenger.

  ‘Go on,’ Sharlene directed them. ‘Aaron’s there.’

  He had posted himself beside the man in the brown suit who, at least for now, was obediently remaining in his seat. Did he realize he would only make things worse for himself if he kept creating a ruckus? Sharlene mused. Or was he truly frightened?

  Sharlene crossed her arms and watched while Aaron explained the situation to Mara and Ray. Then he walked back to her.

  ‘Are you all right?’

  Sharlene bit her lower lip.

  No, I’m not all right, Aaron.

  Irritably, Aaron ran a hand through his hair. ‘That little guy really got on my nerves. Ray’s promised to keep a close eye on him. If necessary, well …’ He sighed. ‘Let’s just hope he keeps his cool. I’ve got enough to worry about. By the way, Nicky took over from Ray downstairs. She’s staying with that woman, Mrs Kirby.’

  Sharlene barely heard him. She had to say something, but what?

  ‘Didn’t you hear what he said?’ she blurted out suddenly.

  Aaron gave her a puzzled look. ‘No. What did he say?’

  ‘That we won’t make it to Sydney …’

  ‘Oh, that. Don’t worry. The man’s deranged,’ Aaron stated angrily. ‘What did he say when he grabbed your wrist?’

  Her heart was beating hard as she considered his question.

  ‘I don’t know. It was very strange.’

  It was not that Sharlene truly did not know what the man had said. It was that she couldn’t comprehend it.

  She thought for a moment longer before reaching a decision.

  ‘You go on and speak to Jim,’ she said, her mind made up. ‘I’m going to …’ She searched for words. ‘I have something else I need to do.’

  ‘What?’ he asked. ‘What did he say?’

  ‘Nothing, just go on ahead,’ she insisted.

  He thought to object, but changed his mind. With a shrug, he turned around and walked off toward the flight deck.

  A small part of her was surprised that Aaron had not questioned her more intently. He had so quickly dropped the subject, and that was unlike him.

  Was he hiding something, too?

  At 4:35, Aaron Drake stepped inside the cockpit for the second time that hour. There he duly informed the captain that one of the passengers had died from an apparent heart attack and his body was being kept temporarily in a locked toilet stall.

  Jim Nichols was startled by the report, as were his two copilots. As he was talking, Aaron recalled that Jim – or was it Greg? – had experienced death on a flight before. The cause of that death had been thrombosis, an obstruction inside a blood vessel caused by sitting motionless for an extended period of time. This so-called ‘economy-class syndrome’ was not uncommon during long-haul flights.

  ‘You did the right thing,’ Jim said. ‘It’s unfortunate you had to leave the body inside the stall, but at least it’s out of sight of the other passengers. And I wouldn’t know where else to put it. Please be sure we are doing everything we can for the man’s wife.’

  ‘We’re doing that,’ Aaron averred. ‘Is there anything else I can do?’

  Jim shook his head. ‘Not at the moment.’

  ‘I haven’t had time to brief the cabin crew about our difficulties yet,’ Aaron confessed. ‘When I came downstairs, that passenger had died and we had our hands full. Is the situation still the same as before?’

  Aaron was more worried now than he had been forty-five minutes ago. He’d assumed then that the basic problem was a technical glitch that could be fixed in relatively short order. Now he wasn’t so sure.

  And it ate at him that that Danny DeVito had been correct. The Princess was not headed toward Sydney – at least, would not be until the glitches had been resolved. How could the man possibly have known that? Just because there was no flight map data available on MEG?

  Aaron was so puzzled and put off by events that he still had not told Sharlene about the problems on the flight deck, even after the storm surrounding Danny DeVito had calmed. She was nervous enough as it was.

  ‘We’re doing everything we can, Aaron,’ Jim said calmly.

  How much fuel did they have left? And how much longer could they rem
ain flying? That was what crossed Aaron’s mind at a full gallop, but he bit his lip and said nothing. The pilots knew precisely what was afoot.

  ‘OK,’ he said. ‘Let me know if there is anything I can do. In the meantime, we’ll do our best to keep the passengers quiet.’

  He left the cockpit and passed Dr Shepherd, who smiled politely.

  ‘Danny’ was a few rows down, sitting in his seat just as he had been ordered to do. He had stopped making a fuss, but there was no ignoring the rigidity and bleakness of his facial expression.

  ‘Everything appears to be all right,’ Aaron said to him in passing. He didn’t stop, because he did not want to give the man an opening to launch into another tirade.

  You’re letting them fool you. You’ll come to believe me yet, but by then it will be too late.

  Mara and Ray were poised outside the upper-deck galley.

  ‘I’m going to go check downstairs,’ Aaron said. ‘How is Mrs Kirby doing?’

  ‘Not so good, but at least she seemed calmer when I left her,’ Ray said.

  Aaron walked down the steps. He was starting to worry a lot, and that was not like him. ‘A steady hand on the wheel’ was how people who knew him described him.

  Would everything be all right? He was startled to realize that he was actually wondering if he would ever see Sydney again.

  Or any other place, for that matter.

  TWENTY-ONE

  ‘They’

  While Aaron made his way forward to the cockpit, Sharlene paused before the steps leading down into the half-light. She tried to collect herself and gather courage. Whatever was haunting her tonight could re-emerge on the stairs. Still, she couldn’t just stand there; she had a job to do and people who depended on her. She took a deep breath, clenched her jaw, and then, before her doubts and fears could assail her, stepped quickly down the steps.

  A few rapid heartbeats later she was on the main deck, and nothing had happened. No chills this time, no presence of an invisible fiend.

  She kept going, straight through into Tourist Class.

  The passengers nearest the toilet stall with Jerrod Kirby inside were awake but seemingly unruffled. The other lavatory was available, although no one was using it. Maybe people were afraid to come near a dead body, Sharlene speculated. Or maybe they were spooked by what had happened to Jerrod and didn’t want whatever it was to happen to them. Devin, Alexandra and Joyce were patrolling the aisles, but nothing demanded their immediate attention.

  Sharlene saw Cassie and crouched down beside her. The girl gave her but a brief glance in response. Her mother, however, inquired after Mrs Kirby.

  ‘Several of the crew are keeping an eye on her,’ Sharlene informed her. ‘They tell me she is doing as well as can be expected.’

  The brunette sitting next to the mother listened in on the conversation.

  ‘Dreadful business,’ the mother said, shaking her head.

  ‘Yes,’ Sharlene confirmed quietly. She hesitated, then: ‘Would you mind if I speak to Cassie for a moment?’

  The mother’s expression changed instantly from one of sympathy to one of infinite sadness. ‘I’m afraid not,’ she said.

  ‘Why?’ Sharlene asked. ‘I don’t mean to be rude, but …’

  The mother shook her head dejectedly. ‘You aren’t being rude. You just can’t.’

  Sharlene didn’t understand, and the look she gave the woman conveyed her confusion.

  ‘Cassie is severely autistic,’ the mother explained. ‘She hasn’t spoken a word in two years.’

  Sharlene went slack-jawed.

  ‘I told Sabrina the entire story,’ the mother said, nodding toward the brown-haired woman sitting next to her. ‘I’m Evelyn, by the way.’

  Sharlene was at a loss for words. ‘I’m sorry, Evelyn. I didn’t know,’ she managed at length.

  ‘That’s OK,’ Evelyn said. ‘I certainly understand. So what were you going to ask her?’

  Sharlene chose her words carefully. It felt strange talking about Cassie as if the girl were somewhere far away and not sitting right in front of her.

  ‘When you first came on board this flight, Evelyn, and you were standing in the aisle, Cassie was between us. She looked at me and …’ Sharlene leaned in closer. ‘And she said something. Very quietly, not so I could hear the words. But I swear to you that she spoke to me.’

  Cassie’s shoulders quivered. She was looking forward, but the motion suggested that she was listening. And understanding what was being said.

  Evelyn shrugged. ‘I’m not surprised. She was probably babbling. She can express herself, but it’s not really talking.’

  She shook her head. ‘It wasn’t babbling, Evelyn. She was talking. I’m sure of it.’

  Sharlene had no idea how Evelyn was interpreting what she was saying, but in that very brief moment when Evelyn and her daughter had come on board all of Cassie’s senses had been keen and alert, and her mumblings could not be discounted as some kind of gibberish. She had uttered real words.

  But Evelyn hadn’t heard Cassie at that moment, so she couldn’t imagine it and didn’t believe it. Sharlene sighed. She had wanted to ask the girl what she had said, and why. Not least because on several occasions Cassie had stared at her so intensely, just as the short man on the upper deck had done.

  Cassie was able to speak, Sharlene was convinced of that, regardless of what Evelyn claimed. But why wouldn’t Cassie repeat what she had said to her? Sharlene wished Cassie could give her some signal of recognition or understanding – a nod or a hand motion – to convince her mother that she was capable of more than babbling incoherently.

  ‘Evelyn,’ the brunette then said, ‘I did see Cassie staring at this stewardess …’

  She leaned slightly forward and peered with eyes half-closed at Sharlene’s breasts.

  ‘… Staring at Sharlene,’ she continued, and Sharlene realized she had been looking at her name tag.

  ‘I remember thinking how peculiar it was,’ the brunette went on. ‘And I noticed Cassie staring at that man when he walked past us toward the bathrooms. When the door opened and they found him in there, she was standing in the aisle. Most children would never do such a thing. They would cringe and cower, maybe even cry.’

  Evelyn sighed audibly. ‘And what’s your point, Sabrina?’

  Something in Evelyn’s tone, Sharlene mused, suggested that she understood perfectly well what the point was – but did not want to hear it, or talk about it.

  Sabrina tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘My point, Evelyn, is that while Cassie may be locked inside herself, she can hear and see. You told me so yourself. And maybe she sees more than we do.’

  Sabrina nodded at Sharlene. ‘I’m a psychologist,’ she explained. ‘I also know a thing or two about parapsychology, because my mother …’

  She paused as a dark cloud passed over her face. ‘Well, because of my mother,’ she finished, and left it at that.

  Sharlene did not respond. Cassie continued to stare ahead.

  ‘Can I tell her the story you told me?’ Sabrina asked Evelyn.

  Evelyn threw up her hands. I’d rather you didn’t, but if you insist, go ahead, the gesture implied.

  ‘All right.’

  Do what you must.

  Sabrina told Sharlene how the girl’s parents had been brutally slaughtered. Cassie had barely escaped with her life. After that, she had become autistic and had been adopted by Evelyn and her husband.

  Sharlene was shocked. This was worse than even her own background. A lot worse.

  That was not all. Sabrina also told her that after her parents’ death Cassie had seemed to develop a gift of clairvoyance. She apparently could tell when people were close to death – it was as if she could see it coming.

  ‘You know,’ Sabrina continued in a near whisper, ‘I can’t help wondering … Did she perceive that the man on his way to the bathroom was … Was going to his death?’

  Silence followed that question. Then Cassie’s han
ds started shaking, and the corners of her mouth twitched although her lips remained pressed together. She looked as though she was about to have an epileptic seizure and was doing everything in her power to control it.

  She had heard what was being said about her, Sharlene was convinced.

  ‘I think so,’ Sabrina said, also convinced. ‘I believe she saw that he would not be coming back out alive.’

  Evelyn’s facial expression was unreadable. Sharlene looked at Cassie, who was becoming increasingly agitated, like a rumbling, bubbling volcano in the moments before erupting.

  Sabrina waited for Evelyn or Sharlene to say something. To say anything.

  When a draft caressed Sharlene’s back, she glanced over her shoulder. All the passengers were in their seats, and none of her co-workers were in the vicinity. To her surprise, no one seemed to be paying any attention to the extraordinary conversation taking place just a few feet away from them. Despite their soft tones, their conversation must have been overheard, she speculated, and that she didn’t want.

  When she turned back, she saw that Cassie was suddenly staring at her again – or so she thought at first, before she realized that the girl’s sky-blue eyes were not focused on her, but on something behind her.

  Sharlene’s eyes went wide.

  My God, she can see it. There is something behind me, and she can see it!

  ‘Cassie,’ she said, her voice trembling, ‘what is it? What do you see? Please tell me. I need to know. Please, I beg of you.’

  The girl did not respond. She kept staring over Sharlene’s shoulder.

  ‘What?’ Sharlene whispered in desperation. ‘What is it?’

  Then a word passed the girl’s lips.

  ‘They …’

  It sounded like a sigh, but it wasn’t. Evelyn had heard her as well. Her jaw dropped and she put her hand on the girl’s shoulder.

  ‘… want …’

  Cassie’s voice was very low, like a whisper in the wind. Her large eyes remained glued on the same spot. Sharlene stared intently at Cassie, not daring to look back, afraid of who – or what – might be there. She understood better what that something might be after the girl spoke the last word she uttered. It was a small word, but to Sharlene it conveyed a doomsday warning from hell.

 

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