Yesterday's Flight

by Martyn Ellington

  He felt serenity and he had a clear mind. At last he knew what was going to happen, he knew he didn’t need to make instant decisions he didn’t need to react, to think on his feet, depending on what was around the bend or how the weather was. He was in control and it had been a long time since he had felt that.

  He took the tablets from his pocket that he had taken from Sarah’s bunk, they were what was left from treating Holly. Sarah had stopped giving her the tablets long before she died when she had realised that using them on her would eventually prove to be futile. Tipping them in to his open hand he stared at them. Then without any hesitation, he placed them all on his tongue. Taking a gulp of water from his cup he pushed his head back and swallowed them all at once. Leaning to his left he placed the cup carefully into its holder. He didn’t want to spill anything, especially now, he didn’t know how quickly the tablets would work and he didn’t want to go while trying to clean up a spill!

  William opened Sarah’s book and started to read it in the low sun of the early winter’s afternoon; as his eyes became heavy and he felt himself become weaker he allowed his arm to slide down, the book slipped away from his eyes his hand still clasping it as if it was his last link to Sarah. His body started to become lighter; a warm feeling of well-being washed over him and all the memories of his life started to fill his mind: his childhood Christmasses, visiting his long-since-gone aunts, uncles and grandparents. His little red trike flashed through his mind but it was all replaced by Sarah’s smile and he started to smile. As he did his eyes closed, and his hand fell open.

  Chapter Twelve

  Mark watched as the NSA and CDC choppers landed at the edge of the site entrance. Four men wearing what looked like standard issue men in black suits climbed out and made their way over to him.

  The wind was still blowing hard and the sky was completely black; no stars could be seen and when the rare glance of the full moon could be seen it showed only huge cloud formations that covered it again just as quickly as it appeared, but the air was now still and electric, it felt charged and Mark was convinced a lightening storm was coming.

  His years in the field working under Susan had taught him when to expect one and to treat it with respect when you were out in the open.

  “Are you Mark Watson, sir?” shouted one of the men.

  “I am and who are you?”

  The man showed Mark a black folding wallet with a shield set in the back cover. “I’m agent Smith with the NSA, sir, you have orders to show me to the crash site.”

  Mark pointed over to one of the parked Landcruisers and shouted at them so he could be heard over the wind. “It’s a bit of a distance from here, we should go in the truck.”

  Agent Smith nodded and gestured to his colleagues to follow him. Mark climbed in the driver’s seat. “It won’t take long to get there.” He turned the truck round and set off for the hangar. Agent Smith sat next to him in the passenger seat and Mark felt very uneasy with him. As the truck approached the hangar the huge blue structure came into view; the massive orange lamps inside made the whole thing glow against the darkened night sky. “Hell of a storm tonight, I’m surprised you still flew in,” Mark said as he pulled the truck up.

  Agent Smith didn’t respond, he simply climbed out of the car and headed into the hangar followed by the other agents. Mark slowly followed them but stopped as he reached the door. Looking up at the sky he noticed something, in the distance far off. He saw a white dot, it looked almost like the landing lights of an airliner but he knew it wasn’t; it was too far away.

  Suddenly the light began to expand. Mark brought his arm up to protect his eyes but the intense brilliant white light flashed across the sky and then disappeared in the time it took him to cover his face and with it the cloud base vanished, returning the night sky to its normal star-filled magnificence. Mark stared at the sky and shuddered. He felt uncomfortable, he couldn’t describe it but something felt out of sync, dismissing it, he turned and headed inside the hangar.

  Bruce and Simon had returned to their offices. Three days had past since they had left the dig site and the government agencies had taken it over and as Bruce had predicted, nothing was coming out, no information and no leads. He knew deep down the plane would be removed for scientific testing and any mention of it would be flatly denied. As for the diary that Susan had kept: the ramblings of a delusional mind is what they had already decided the official line would be. Scribbled words from someone who wants nothing more than attention and he knew that with the government and all the resources at their disposal, the diary was worthless.

  Bruce returned to his paperwork, filling in endless reports and spreadsheets. He rubbed his eyes and sat back in his chair sighing heavily. The events of the past few months had left him physically and emotionally exhausted. His hunger for the job now had gone and with every passing day that was to come he knew he had reached the end of his career. Nothing he investigated now would ever hold the surprise or challenge that he had had.

  “Bruce!” Simon’s voice echoed.

  Bruce sat back and waited for him to come to his office, he knew he would and saw no point shouting back to him. Simon entered holding a report sheet. “Bruce, I think this is it.”

  Bruce put his pen down and took the paper from him.

  “This is what, Simon?”

  Simon smiled. “Read it carefully, Bruce, it’s a missing report, a plane was reported missing, now look at the flight crew names.”

  Bruce scanned down the sheet for the information Simon pointed him to, and he froze.

  “What did I tell you?”

  Bruce pulled the paper away from his face and looked up at Simon, “The names on here are the names from the flight in the diary,” Bruce said.

  Simon nodded, “Yes, and not only that, the body Andrea worked on, his DNA was sufficient to get a name and he’s on the passenger list.”

  Bruce stood up. “Anybody else know about this?”

  Simon shook his head, “Not yet, no, I’ve called Susan and Andrea, they’re going to meet us there.”

  Bruce looked puzzled. “Meet us where, Simon?” he asked.

  “The John Doe, his name was William Relford and we have an address!”

  Bruce’s expression changed from puzzlement to enthusiasm. A broad smile fixed across his face, “So let’s go!” Simon said.

  Simon and Bruce pulled up outside of the address he had managed to get from the airline and waiting for them was Susan and Andrea. “Morning, boys,” announced Susan.

  Bruce smiled. Though it was only a few days, it seemed to Bruce much longer since he had heard her voice; they entered the apartment building and made their way to William’s door.

  “So, how do we get in then?” asked Andrea.

  Bruce turned to her and smiled, “Like this.” Bruce put all of his considerable weight behind his kick, and the front door gave in immediately. Bruce and Simon entered followed by Susan and then an apprehensive Andrea. “You can’t just kick your way in, Bruce,” she said in her usual scornful manner.

  “I just did, Andrea, and remember, William’s not likely to be back, is he? If we can find something we might be able to…”

  Andrea cut across him, “What, Bruce? might be able to what? You still don’t get it, do you? You can’t stop this, you can’t change it. If you could we wouldn’t be here.”

  Bruce looked frustrated. “What the hell are you talking about? Of course we would.”

  “No we wouldn’t. If you had stopped it, the plane wouldn’t have killed the dinosaur, and when Susan dug down nothing would have been in that spot, and because of that she wouldn’t have called your office and we wouldn’t have gone there and met and none of the events that have led us to this moment would have happened!” She finished and sank onto William’s wingback chair.

  The mood in the apartment changed and Bruce now had to concede defeat. He turned to Simon, “Ring the flight control, ask them when it disappeared.”

  Simon pulled out h
is phone and turned to talk to them. Bruce sat in silence and watched as Andrea sat looking out of the large corner window. She turned to Susan, “Imagine right now, 65 million years ago, the man who should be sitting in this chair is living the life we read about in his diary.”

  Susan smiled but it was a smile of polite acknowledgment mixed with inevitable sadness. She had heard what Andrea had said but the thought of them living through the events that had been documented in his diary left her feeling empty and sad for him. Sad for a man she had never met yet she knew how he lived, how he died, and now she stood in his home, and as the feeling began to smother her she felt the same as she had the night they had climbed into the plane and found his body.

  Bruce noticed Simon coming back into the room. “So, what did they say? When did it disappear?” he asked him.

  Simon folded his phone and pushed it into his jacket pocket. He turned his attention to Bruce. Simon’s face was washed-out, pale and gaunt, “It was when we were at the airport, Bruce. He hesitated and then continued…

  “It was 72-hours ago!”