Yesterday's Flight

by Martyn Ellington

  “Bruce.”

  “Yes, Simon,” “putting aside the fact that it has survived down here, surely if the passengers and crew had had to live in here there would be some mess, some signs of usage: plates, cups, anything, but there’s nothing, nothing at all!”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Simon, I don’t have an answer for you.”

  Bruce turned to Susan, “I’m heading towards the flight deck to avionics, you coming?” Susan smiled and nodded and turned to follow Bruce.

  The curtain to business class and the front of the aircraft was already over at one side, their torches flooded the front compartment area and Bruce stopped abruptly. He reached out an open hand and grabbed Susan’s wrist as she closed in behind him stopping her dead in her tracks. With his torch he gestured to her to follow its beam and she did, looking up slowly from the floor and her own stream of light she followed Bruce’s through the dark thick still air, and it was what was at the end of the light beam that Bruce had stopped, for a chill ran down her spine and her heart started to thump inside her chest. She could feel a cold sweat running down her back as she stared ahead. There in the gloom of the barely-lit cabin -illuminated only by a single shaft of light - was the back of a man’s head. Bruce let go of Susan’s wrist and moved slowly towards the anonymous sullen figure that faced away from them. Susan followed closely behind him. Bruce detoured through the centre row of the business class seats and ended up opposite the figure on the other side of the cabin. The man was lying down, almost flat on a reclined seat, a plastic tumbler sat next to him, placed neatly in the holder provided. He had a blanket pulled half way up his body and they could see he was wearing a plain dark T-shirt. He had some stubble around his chin and his hair was short and ragged and had obviously been cut by him using a blunt instrument of some kind, it was tangled and rough. Susan thought about how it resembled the recreations and depictions of Stone Age man. His right hand was under the blanket, but in his left hand was a book. “Looks like he was reading when the end came,” Bruce whispered in a soft voice. The man’s head was buried deep in the two pillows he had rested it on.

  What struck them both, the most profound thing, was the condition of the body. Unlike the other bodies in the grave that had first decomposed to skeletons and then transformed to fossils; this body hadn’t. It was in a state of advanced decomposition but whatever had kept this aircraft in its condition had had the same effect on the dead body before them. Bruce rested a heavy hand on Susan’s left shoulder, she turned to face him. Shining the light in her general direction so that she wasn’t blinded by it, he could see the sad expression on her face, she looked sad for this man, this stranger that seemed to have died in such a peaceful way amongst the strangest of circumstance.

  Bruce moved forward to the flight deck with Susan in tow. He reached the door and pushed it open. The door didn’t put up a fight, it seemed eager to let him in, it was almost as if it couldn’t hold on to its secrets any longer and it was relieved to be able to share them. The flight deck was bathed in the eerie orange glow that was outside in the tent, it flooded through the dirty windows that had prohibited him from seeing in this morning.

  On the co-pilot’s seat was a broken headset, at some point they had been smashed to pieces and had landed there. On the pilot’s side the headset sat neatly in its holder, he noticed the mic arm was bent and the left ear-piece smashed. He moved the light around further and saw the shape of aviator glasses resting on the top of the dashboard, a thick layer of dust covered everything, every switch was in the exact position it should be following a controlled landing and this confirmed in Bruce’s mind - beyond any doubt - his theory that the plane had been landed and it had not simply crashed. He moved his torch from the dashboard to the floor of the flight deck and the hatch that lead to avionics.

  Susan followed his lead and moved the beam of her torch to the hatch. Bruce wafted at the thick layer of dust that covered the hatch locks and unclipped them, removing them he climbed down into the bay. Susan leant over the open hatchway, passing him his torch and shining hers down to give him as much light as they had available.

  Bruce went to where he knew the black box would be; the two red boxes that are commonly known as one black box were there, he unlocked the catches that held them in place and one by one he passed them up to Susan. Once up he looked around avionics, and as with the flight deck what struck him was that the controls, in fact everything, was as it should have been, all the systems they wouldn’t have needed once down had been disabled; only the most crucial systems had been allowed to stay on.

  Bruce started to feel a chill, he understood now what Simon had meant when he had compared it to the Titanic. This plane really did feel like a tomb. By the time Bruce was normally involved in aircraft incidents little else remained apart from fragments, broken parts laid, even strewed across sometimes large areas after the aircraft had impacted against the ground and exploded. But not this time, this time the pilot had managed to land the plane and now with the body in business class and the condition of it, it was starting to feel as though he was trespassing and now he had the black box he needed, he wanted to leave it and never come back, but even as that wish filled his mind, he knew that at some point he would have to.

  He climbed out of the opening and replaced the hatch cover. Picking up the red cases that held the data drives, he left the flight deck with Susan and closed the door behind them.

  As they entered business class again they saw Simon standing over the body. He saw their light dancing and flickering around the cabin as they walked through it and he turned towards them, “Did you find them, Bruce?” His voice was grave and it had a low pitch to it, it was as if he was conducting the funeral service for this mystery passenger they had found and felt he needed to talk with a sombre respectful tone.

  Bruce didn’t comment on it, he understood, in fact he found himself speaking the same, “I did, Simon, let’s get out.” They climbed down the ladder back into the cargo bay. Bruce ensured he was last to leave, half-way down the ladder when his head still remained above the galley floor, he shone his torch round for one last look, feeling sad for the people who had been on the flight he pulled the hatch cover back on and with the lowering of his torch it fell back into darkness.

  The forensic team had already started to unload the cargo bay, huge powerful halogen lights now flooded every part and hidden corner. Box by box they were passing each piece of the remaining luggage and belongings out, stacking it carefully, numbering it so that it could be checked at a microscopic level for anything that might identify what this plane was doing here.

  Bruce, Simon and Susan climbed out of the cargo bay back into the hangar. As they started up the side of the dig back towards the exit, Bruce stopped and turned to Susan, “We need to get the body out of there, we need to find out who he is, how he died, and when.”

  Susan agreed.

  “The forensic team are working on the zoned areas one and two for now, but I’ll instruct them in the morning on our mystery man, but for now I need to go to bed, I need to sleep.”

  Bruce nodded, “Ok, Susan, I’ll leave it with you.”

  Heading out of the hangar into the night again, the fresh desert air seemed to clear any dust and dirt that had got onto them from the interior on the plane. Bruce reached his tent and placed the two metal containers on the floor, he would examine them in the morning. He hadn’t said anything to Susan when she had admitted defeat and the need to go to bed, but he had felt the same, he knew he was done for the day, he had nothing else to give and saw no reason to push on, besides the feeling of exhaustion he had felt this morning had been amplified a thousand times over by what he had seen and felt tonight. Tonight he would sleep and as he lay down and pulled his blankets over him he would find out that it would be a troubled and disturbing sleep.

  The following morning Bruce woke up to another blazing hot day. It was only 7:42am by the red glowing dials on his bedside clock but already he was swea
ting heavily and he could feel the dryness in the back of his throat. He turned over and reached for the bottle of water he had constantly kept by his bedside since they had arrived. Taking a few sips then wiping the odd drip from his lips he lay back flat on his bed. He stared for a while at the yellow canvas roof above him before making the effort to get up and go to the shower block.

  Susan had not had a good night’s sleep. She reached her tent physically and emotionally drained from what they had found and the feeling she had got from walking around the interior of the aircraft. She had felt like a tomb raider, as though she should not have been there. She was trespassing on that which is most sacred and holy, a person’s final resting place.

  She kicked the sheet off that was covering her with her feet and sat on the edge of the bed trying to put the pieces together; she knew there had to be an answer; there was always an answer but what the hell this one was she wasn’t sure if they would ever know.

  She looked over at her clock it was old fashioned wind-up alarm clock with two large bells on each side of the round face, scratched and dusty. The once bright red paint that covered the metal body was faded and dull after spending so much time in the sun on so many different expeditions.

  Reaching over she picked the clock up and felt for the winder on the back giving it a turn. She smiled as she remembered the day she was given it as present, her father had bought it as a last-minute gift. She had rung him when she had been given her first placement on a dig site in the Bad Lands. Of all the gifts she had received from friends and family for her first expedition this was the only one that remained, it had seemed a strange gift at the time and she remembered her mother denouncing the gift as, “Typical of that man, no thought for anything or anyone; no wonder I left him!” But Susan loved it and took it everywhere with her; especially now as her father was dead.

  She leaned across and placed it carefully on the table next to her bed. She stood up and slipped out of her pyjama bottoms. Peeling her T-shirt off she felt the warmth of the sun on her body and a slight breeze blowing through the vent flaps of the tent. She washed and pulled on a clean set of field clothes, which mainly consisted of a clean dark T-shirt a pair of comfortable knickers, combat style shorts and thick socks that she wore under her heavy black boots.

  She had made two promises to her father before he had died, that she would wind her clock up every morning and that she would wear thick socks and boots so she couldn’t be stung or bitten by anything in the desert and she had kept to them religiously. She tied her hair back in a pony tail and stepped out in to the day. The sun was already high in the sky which as usual was a deep blue and completely unspoilt by any wandering clouds. She closed the flap, fastening it, and headed over to the field kitchen where she saw Bruce sitting having his morning coffee. He looked much as she did; un-rested and tired.

  “Morning, Bruce.”

  He looked up, he didn’t need to see who it was, he could recognise Susan’s voice now.

  She sat opposite him with a mug of coffee and a slice of toast.

  “Morning, Susan, how did you sleep?”

  “Not well, Bruce, I don’t think I dreamed much but if I did I certainly can’t remember it.”

  Bruce clenched his jaw, “Same here, if I got two hours last night I did well.”

  “So, what do you think we should do first, Bruce?”

  He placed his coffee down on the table and held onto the mug with both hands. Taking a deep breath he looked around the kitchen like someone ready to tell a secret and checking for anybody that was listening to them. “I think we need to get Andrea and her team to remove our mystery man. I think we need to do that delicately; we don’t need everyone to know about him. We’ll get her to take him straight to bravo, she might be able to give us what we need for now.”

  Susan sat back in her chair and put the now empty mug and plate on the table in front of her. “I’ll go see Andrea and get her over to charlie, her team can handle our man from there, she has the experience and know how.”

  Bruce took another sip, his hands still grasping the cup tightly, “I’ll see you over at bravo in a couple of hours. I need to check-in with Simon and I need to start downloading the information from the boxes I got last night.”

  Susan stood and left Bruce to his coffee. She pulled her sunglasses down from her forehead to block some of the sun’s glare out as she made her way to site bravo.

  Entering the huge tent she made her way over to Andrea’s makeshift office.

  “Hi, Susan,” she turned to see Andrea following in behind her.

  “You’re an early bird this morning, to what pleasure do I owe for this visit?”

  Susan smiled and gestured Andrea to follow her to the office. Once they were both inside Susan closed the door, leaving one hand on the handle she turned to face Andrea.

  “We entered the aircraft last night and it gave us more questions than answers. Apart from the condition of the thing and the fact that Bruce is now convinced beyond doubt that whoever they were lived on it after it landed, we found something.”

  Susan let go of the door handle and made her way across the office to sit in the chair opposite Andrea’s.

  “What?” her reply was as short as Susan had come to expect. Susan looked up at her and composed herself.

  “We found a body, Andrea, a male, a man lying on a bed bunk in business class, in superb condition and Bruce wants you and your team to remove him and bring him here.”

  Andrea’s face lit up, she looked excited; she looked like she had just been given life-changing news and good news at that.

  “But there’s more, Andrea.”

  Andrea reclined back in her chair, the good news had a but, as it always did.

  “After you had examined the first two bodies I had the skulls sent to the Natural History Museum in Washington and I had forensic facial reconstruction done.”

  Andrea sat forward the look of excitement now replaced by one of confusion and annoyance.

  “What? When are they back, Susan, you know I should have been consulted on this, why wasn’t I?”

  Susan didn’t retaliate, partly because she knew Andrea was right, she should have been involved but she was also too tired, she didn’t have the energy to fight with her, what little energy and strength she had she would need to return to the hangar and get through the day. She sighed and looked directly into Andrea’s eyes. “Yes, you should Andrea and I have them in my tent, they came back a couple of days ago but only Bruce and I have seen them. When we get the body out of the plane we can go get them, bring them over to this site and see if we can’t solve this.”

  Andrea didn’t reply, she knew she had scolded Susan enough and given that she and Bruce were running the dig; even she knew she could only push so far.

  “Ok, Susan, give me ten, maybe twenty-minutes and I’ll get my team ready, then we’ll go.”

  Susan sank into the chair and smiled.

  Bruce sat in his tent with the two red boxes placed neatly on his field desk next to his laptop computer. He sat staring at them almost hesitant to connect them and start the download of information he so desperately needed. He wasn’t sure what, if anything, they would reveal about why this aircraft was here and part of him wasn’t sure if he would even believe it if he heard it.

  He plugged the USB lead into the side of his computer and connected the other end to the flight data recorder, the other box was the flight voice recorder that recorded all the communications between the plane and ground control. He always took the information from that one last. There was no real reason for this; he had just always done it that way and he saw no reason why this time should be any different. The laptop chimed as if to congratulate itself for achieving the connection. Bruce moved his hand over the square mouse pad on the laptop until he had placed the cursor over the icon that would launch the download software. His finger hovered over the pad, he looked at the screen of his computer and hit it, instantly the cursor turned into a little egg cup
and then the software opened a new window on the desktop. Two pictures appeared, one of a pc and another a basic representation of the red box. A data display line appeared between them and the little arrows that showed that the computer was reading the box started to shuffle between the two pictures. Bruce knew this could take a while depending on how much information there was. He pushed his chair back and stood up. “I’ll be back soon,” he whispered to the computer and with that he turned and headed for Simon’s tent.

  Simon had long been up and had had his breakfast when Bruce slapped the flap that formed the door of his tent.

  “Simon, you ready?”

  “I am, boss. I was waiting for you.”

  “Ok, I told Susan I would meet her at site bravo; they should have taken our mystery man out of the plane by now.”

  Simon closed the lid on his laptop and placed it next to him on his bed. Standing up he had an almost guilty look on his face but it was tinged with a bit of sadness as well.

  “Everything ok, Simon?”

  Simon jerked his head back, he had seen a caring side of Bruce in the past but is was so rare that it still took him by surprise.

  “Nothing that can’t wait, Bruce, let’s go see if they’ve found anything.”

  He followed Bruce out of his tent, but just as he left he turned his head and took one last glance at the laptop lying on his bed and with a heavy sigh he turned and left.

  Andrea returned to her office where she had left Susan while she assembled her team.

  “Ok, Susan, we’re good to go.”

  Susan didn’t reply to her verbally, she just acknowledged it with a small nod and stood up. Andrea noticed that she looked worried; she had a distinct look of anxiety on her face like a child who was about to get an injection and knew what was coming.