Zone

by Jack Lance

  ‘ … us.’

  TWENTY-TWO

  In the Dark

  Cassie’s body, coiled like a spring suddenly disengaged. Her chin dropped, her eyelids grew heavy, and her arms fell to her sides.

  ‘What was that?’ Sabrina gasped. ‘Who on earth was she referring to?’

  ‘Beats me,’ Evelyn murmured. ‘Cassie? Honey?’

  Sharlene couldn’t speak. Her throat was clogged.

  ‘Cassie?’ Evelyn pressed. But the girl had reverted to pretending she didn’t hear anything.

  The cold behind Sharlene faded to nothing, just as it had on the stairs and again in the galley.

  Sabrina leaned across Evelyn, closer to Sharlene. ‘What was that about? Do you have any sense at all?’

  The suspicion that she was being pursued by some inexplicable force was intensifying. But could she say anything about it out loud? If she did, who would believe her? Aaron would likely get mad at her and ridicule her.

  Sharlene decided to keep her cards close to her chest. She rose to her feet and held out her hands as if to say I have no idea.

  ‘Why did she talk to you?’ Sabrina persisted.

  Sharlene shrugged. ‘I haven’t a clue.’

  ‘According to Evelyn, she hasn’t said a word in two years,’ Sabrina pressed on. ‘And now, all of a sudden, she starts talking, to you. But she doesn’t know you. Am I to believe there is no rhyme or reason to any of this?’

  Yes, that is exactly what you are to believe, Sharlene thought. Cassie didn’t know Jerrod Kirby either. She stared at him and now he’s dead.

  ‘I have to go,’ she said, unable to mask the tremor in her voice.

  Before Sabrina could add anything further, Sharlene quickly walked back to the emergency exit in section C, opposite the toilet stall where Jerrod Kirby lay dead inside.

  Cassie had just confirmed, in her own unique way, that intruders had come aboard. But what sort of intruders? Where had they come from? Most importantly, who did ‘they’ refer to?

  Sharlene felt her head spinning. Dear God, she thought, what will happen next?

  Then she remembered her necklace, her amulet. She clenched her fist around the crucifix, took a deep breath, and exhaled.

  Passengers and colleagues were giving her worried looks and were whispering among themselves. Sharlene considered going into the galley to get away from it all, but that was no longer an option. If she found herself alone in there, the invisible presence could manifest itself and she might end up like Jerrod Kirby.

  Aaron approached her. What had he and Jim discussed? Sharlene wondered. But he was detained for a moment by Devin Felix, who asked him a question Sharlene couldn’t hear. Then Aaron continued on his way and came over to her. Even as he smiled, Sharlene saw worry in his eyes.

  ‘Bad news?’ she ventured.

  He bit his lip and lightly gripped her elbow. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I need to tell you something. Want to step into the galley?’

  She nodded. ‘OK.’

  With him by her side, she felt safe, unafraid.

  A few minutes before five o’clock she opened the galley curtain and saw Alexandra standing there. Oh, no! was Sharlene’s first thought.

  ‘Alexandra, could you please give us a minute?’ Aaron inquired politely. ‘I need to speak to Sharlene alone.’

  ‘Well, if you must,’ Alexandra sniffed, and left the galley.

  After this night was over, assuming it ever ended, she would have her hands full with that woman, Sharlene thought. Alexandra was a mangy cat with sharp claws and a jealous mind.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked, turning to face Aaron.

  Aaron told her that the trouble on the flight deck was more serious than he had initially imagined. They had no radio and, worse, no navigational systems that were functional. The passengers were not the only ones who couldn’t determine where they were or where they were heading. The pilots were equally in the dark.

  ‘I’m going to tell the others in a minute, but I wanted to tell you first,’ Aaron concluded.

  Sharlene nodded her understanding. ‘Sounds like we’re not going to make it to Sydney,’ she concluded.

  ‘Hard to say. I hope they can solve these issues, but it’s not looking good at the moment. It’s almost as if this flight …’ He left the rest of his sentence hanging.

  ‘What?’ she asked quietly. ‘What about this flight?’

  It’s almost as if this flight were cursed, is that it?

  ‘This is the first time …’ he started, but then shook his head. ‘No, I don’t want to be thinking like that. It’s going to be fine. It might take some effort, but in the end everything always turns out fine, right? We’ll just have to put our trust in that.’

  Despite his comforting words, Aaron was entertaining his own set of doubts. Of that Sharlene was certain. Should she tell him what Cassie had said? Would he listen to her now? Would he believe her?

  ‘I have to stay focused, and so do you and so do we all,’ Aaron insisted. ‘What matters is that Jim gets us back on the ground, if not in Sydney, then someplace else. I’m sure he’ll be able to do that. There is no cause for alarm.’

  A sinking feeling told her that Aaron did not need to hear about her own concerns. He had enough on his mind already.

  ‘I’m going to inform the others,’ Aaron said. ‘We need to get everyone up to speed in case we have to land at some other airport.’ He gave her a quick kiss. ‘Let’s just try and remain calm. This is all very much out of the ordinary, especially with that man dying; but we have to remain professional. Our passengers have put their trust in us.’

  He left the galley. She followed him, not wanting to stay behind, alone. Aaron stopped to talk to the cabin crew, the first of them Alexandra.

  Sharlene walked in the opposite direction, her thoughts crossing swords with each other.

  ‘Madam?’ someone said in a voice she recognized.

  It was the Latino man in seat 59H, he who had asked her to bring him a Scotch. He seemed to be sweating even more profusely than before.

  ‘Yes, sir?’

  ‘I’m almost afraid to ask, but could I please have another round?’

  He flicked his eyes toward the mini-bottle of whisky, the one that had been knocked over earlier in the galley by an invisible force. It now stood empty on the tray table.

  ‘I could really use another drink,’ he said apologetically.

  Sharlene vividly recalled what had happened the last time he had made that request, and she was none too eager to tempt Fate again.

  The man noticed her hesitation.

  ‘Please,’ he insisted.

  The young woman sitting next to him by the window was still leaning her head against it, pretending to be asleep. And her nose was still wrinkled. She smelled him, as Sharlene most assuredly did.

  ‘I don’t like flying,’ the Latino said. ‘I was in a crash once. Two people died. I was very lucky. I came very close to dying myself. I’m telling you, I’ve looked death in the eye …’

  Sharlene held up her hand, signaling him to cease and desist. ‘Please, sir, we don’t need to be hearing this,’ she said softly but firmly.

  ‘Ever since then,’ he said absently, as though he had not heard a word she had said, ‘I fly only when I absolutely have to. A drink really helps. I think I need a bit more this time.’ A shudder coursed through him. ‘Ever since that crash I’ve been feeling that it’s not over yet. It’s like I’m destined to die on a plane. That it’s going to happen again. Does that make any sense to you?’

  ‘Sir, I have already asked you. Please stop talking like this.’

  ‘This little box here …’ He indicated the entertainment system in the backrest of the seat in front of him. The screen was black, he had switched off MEG. When he looked up at her, his eyes were moist. ‘Oh, I’m just being foolish, aren’t I? You probably think I’ve had enough.’

  But he sounded stone-cold sober.

  ‘Could you bring me another one?’
>
  He wasn’t asking. He was begging.

  Sharlene decided to get the bottle of Scotch for him, but not before asking either Gloria or Rosette to accompany her to the galley.

  ‘Yes, sir, coming right up,’ she said. ‘But what were you saying about the entertainment system?’

  ‘Nothing,’ he sighed, seemingly ashamed of the way he had acted. ‘It’s nothing. Never mind.’

  Sharlene wanted an answer, but decided to wait for it until after she returned with his drink. ‘I’ll be right back.’

  ‘Thank you,’ the man said.

  On her way back to the galley, her nerves twisted her stomach and intestines into painful cramps. Then she found herself beside the woman in black with the oversized sunglasses. She was still sitting in the same seemingly uncomfortable posture: ramrod straight, her hands folded in her lap, and those Ray-Bans looking like square black screens in front of her eyes. The woman had all three seats in the row to herself.

  Acting on an impulse, Sharlene sat down beside her.

  The woman glanced askance at her.

  ‘You asked me a question earlier,’ Sharlene heard herself say.

  She felt like she was a mere spectator to her own intuition.

  ‘Do you remember? You asked if I had seen him.’

  The question had stirred something deep within her. It had been the first time this night that she had the distinct feeling something was pursuing her, and that something or someone was neither a passenger nor a member of the crew.

  ‘Who were you referring to when you said that?’ Sharlene asked.

  The woman’s facial expression remained rigid. Sharlene found it impossible to gauge her reaction or thought process. Those large black glasses hid more than just her eyes. They seemed to hide her soul.

  She heard the woman’s thin reedy voice.

  ‘I thought that the Lord …’

  Sharlene frowned. The lord? What lord?

  ‘I had hoped that He had come, to …’

  When the woman bowed her head and folded her hands as if in prayer, Sharlene understood that she was referring to God.

  ‘… to grant me forgiveness,’ she said timidly.

  When the woman removed her Ray-Bans and looked at her, Sharlene noticed that her eyes were large and azure blue, a darker blue than Cassie’s, and that a mixture of fear and sadness was embedded in them.

  ‘I saw the Lord when He saved my life. He is light and love. He’s not …’

  She faltered, and the fear in her blue eyes intensified.

  ‘He isn’t what?’ Sharlene asked.

  ‘The Lord is not dark,’ the woman answered.

  ‘Dark?’

  The woman nodded earnestly. ‘The Lord is not dark,’ she repeated. ‘So it was not the Lord I saw. Whoever I saw was dark.’

  ‘And you say he’s here? On board?’

  ‘He came in from outside,’ the woman said, as if in some sort of trance. She pointed toward the window. ‘He stood on the wing, in the wind. Then the plane started shaking and he was gone. I haven’t seen him since. I don’t know where he is now.’

  Sharlene moved closer to her. ‘What did he look like, besides being dark?’

  The woman shrugged. ‘I didn’t see his face. I don’t think he had one.’

  Goose bumps sprouted on Sharlene’s skin. She craned her neck, narrowed her eyes, and peered outside. She saw nothing.

  ‘When the plane shook? During that turbulence. Did you see him while the plane was shaking earlier tonight?’ Her voice had assumed a raspy quality.

  ‘Yes,’ the woman said, nodding. ‘That’s exactly when I saw him.’

  ‘I see.’ Sharlene felt beads of cold sweat breaking out on her forehead. She had one more question to ask the woman.

  ‘If it wasn’t the Lord you saw … who do you think it was?’

  ‘Lucifer,’ the woman said at once, without a trace of doubt in her voice. Her face contorted in revulsion.

  Sharlene froze.

  ‘You saw him, too,’ the woman said quietly, not as a question.

  ‘No, I didn’t,’ Sharlene said numbly, hardly aware of these words passing her lips. ‘I just felt him.’

  The plane tilted slightly. Outside, through the window Sharlene saw the wing turn up. But no dark shape was perched upon it.

  Now what? Did Jim have navigation back, and was he adjusting their heading to reach the nearest airport?

  She felt a glimmer of hope.

  The wing turned down again, and that hope was dashed.

  Of course, it could still be that Jim was altering their compass heading.

  But what if he wasn’t?

  ‘We should pray,’ the woman said, and immediately followed her own advice.

  Sharlene closed her eyes, trying to sort through a storm of conflicting emotions.

  It started during the turbulence. That’s when I had the nightmare. We shouldn’t be here. But where is here?

  She opened her eyes.

  The woman had told her that her life had been saved. The Latino had said he had come face to face with death. Just like Cassie.

  We have all been behind the door.

  Sharlene began to discern something. She grasped understanding, a terrible kind of understanding, worse than her darkest nightmare.

  At the same time, the meaning of what the man in the brown suit had whispered sunk in, or so she believed.

  You, too?

  Yes, she too.

  Sharlene peered beyond the lady in black, out the window and into the black of night. She imagined herself staring into the darkness of another world.

  ‘If I’m back,’ Sharlene mumbled to herself, ‘then we’re all back now.’

  Interlude III

  ‘When I woke up that night, it was pitch black,’ she told Noel Richardson. ‘That’s when I knew something was wrong.’

  She hesitated.

  ‘Go on,’ Richardson said calmly.

  She knew something was terribly wrong because it was so dark in her bedroom. Since she had broken up with Todd, she always left a light on during the night.

  She was sure the bedside light had been on before she fell asleep. But now it wasn’t. Maybe the bulb had burned out, she thought fleetingly.

  But when she reached for the light switch, she noticed an outline in a corner of the room. Or was it only her charcoal Anna Scott dress hanging on a coat hanger?

  No, because a dress could not detach itself from the background, let alone move toward her, as it was now doing.

  In the next instant, two coarse hands grabbed her wrists and she recognized Todd Bower.

  ‘He had a knife,’ she told Richardson, in a choked voice. ‘A knife, rope, and tape. Before I could collect my senses, he had me tied to the bedposts, my arms forced above my head, and my legs spread wide. Do you really need to hear the rest?’

  Before he could answer, she continued.

  ‘He cut off my clothes. My shirt, my bra, and my panties.’

  Lying on the therapist’s couch, she let her tears flow freely.

  ‘I lay there, naked, and I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t even scream, because he had taped my mouth shut. He was taking his time. He was enjoying this and he had all the time in the world. It was the middle of the night. Who would rescue me?’

  ‘You don’t need to …’ Richardson began, but she didn’t let him finish.

  ‘He raped me. I don’t know how long it took, but when he was finally done, it was starting to get light outside. He pressed his knife to my throat, grinning. I can still see that horrible grin. I thought I was going to die. I thought he was going to kill me. Part of me hoped he would.’

  With eyes blood-streaked and tearful from the horrible memory, she glanced at her therapist. ‘Maybe that was his intention, or maybe he thought I was dead already. I don’t know. What I do know is that I lost consciousness. When I came to it was daylight. I was still tied up, the tape was still across my mouth, and I was lying in a pool of my own blood. He had stabbed
me in the abdomen with his knife.’

  Noel Richardson folded his hands and observed her solemnly.

  ‘Go on,’ he bid her quietly.

  ‘It took me most of the day to free myself. I lived in the apartment alone. Only my best friend, Nance Partington, had a key, but she didn’t stop by that day. No one was coming to help me. That day was even worse than the night before. I thought I was going to bleed to death, slowly and painfully.’

  She turned her head away from Richardson and looked out the window. ‘I was so relieved when I finally got the ropes off, and even more relieved when Todd was later arrested. But my joy was short-lived. I was still alive, but at the same time I wasn’t. Even though he had failed to kill me, he had succeeded in destroying me. I felt like human wreckage. I was afraid to go anywhere, so I stayed inside. I put extra locks on my door, and I had a security system installed. It wasn’t something I could afford, really, but it gave me the confidence that if he ever came back I could alert the police from my bed, simply by pushing a button.’

  ‘How did you arrive at your … decision?’ Richardson asked at length.

  She knew what he meant.

  ‘I held out for a long time, isolating myself, but it wasn’t something that could continue indefinitely. That was not possible. I was becoming morose, sinking into an abyss of depression. I was losing myself. To be honest, I don’t remember a lot from that time. Some part of me must have decided I couldn’t go on this way. I didn’t want to live like that anymore, sick with misery and with the constant fear that Todd would someday return. I was sure he would, sooner or later. What I knew for certain was that I never wanted to see him again and never have him touch me again.’

  She kept staring out the window. ‘So there was only one thing I could do …’

  ‘And you did,’ Richardson said resignedly.

  ‘Yes,’ she confirmed. ‘I committed murder.’

  IV

  5:08 A.M. – 5:47 A.M.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Silence