by L C Smith
It is them. Why are they back? I sit forward in my seat unconsciously.
This time I notice Nathan’s wearing a uniform. An army uniform or something. Catherine is standing with her arms at her sides, like she knows the pain is about to come, so she has separated herself from him already by not touching him.
He reaches out and touches her stomach. “Take care. I will be thinking about you every day.”
“How about every minute,” she jokes smiling, but tears spill over. He reaches out for her, but she steps back slightly. “No, I'm okay. You better get going.” She says flicking the tears from each cheek quickly.
“Catherine.” He pulls her into his chest. “I will think about you every second that someone is not shooting at me. How’s that?”
She opens her mouth like she is going to say something smart back. But nothing comes out. Instead, she sucks back a sob as she mouths, “Go.”
He looks her dead in the face. “I love you.” Then he turns and walks away.
I watch him go down the escalator, I stand up, transfixed by him moving down. I expect him to look back at her, but he doesn't. Just his straight back moving further down and away. I take an unconscious step toward her. I look at him, then back and see the pain in her face. She isn't making any sound, but tears are gushing down her face as her body convulses from the internal sobbing. One hand is grasped over her mouth, the other over her stomach, covering the smallest bump. I step toward her again. The escalator is taking him further down into the restricted area. I give her one long look, and I am gone, running through the exit gate, pushing through the people congregated for their goodbyes.
I shove the hands out my way, eyes on the man in uniform. I run down the escalator steps, squeezing between people blocking the next step.
“Sorry, going to miss my plane,” I mumble at a lady who shoulders me back.
“Then you should have been here earlier,” she calls after me.
“Yip.” I wave my hand at her, jumping the last three steps chasing after him.
I sprint across the corridor. I can see him. Just three people up. They look like they are lining up for something. I push myself harder trying to reach him before he gets to the customs gate, and I have to pull out my passport.
“Hi there, can I see your ticket?” A small woman in an airport uniform asks me. I skid to a stop. One look at her, then one to the man.
“Um.” But my body doesn’t care and I lurch forward, throwing myself at Nathan’s back as he turns around, landing inside him, righting myself to see them both looking around.
“Where did she go?” The woman asks confused.
“I'm … not … sure,” he stammers, unsure if he saw me at all.
“There was a girl here. I spoke to her. She looked at me, then…” She stops, staring at Nathan. “I spoke to her, then she just ran. It looked like she ran at you.” She stops again. “Like she ran at you. She didn't stop. She was just gone.”
“I didn't see her go anywhere, and no one bumped into me.” Nathan says slowly.
“Are you sure? You didn't knock her, and she managed to get around you? I don't think she has a ticket.”
“Lieutenant Adams, ma’am.” He holds out his hand. “I'm sure she will turn right around when she gets stopped at the body scanners. Someone running through here will catch everyone's attention. But I will keep an eye out.”
“I really did see her.” Her voice shakes.
“Yes, ma’am”
“I really did,” she repeats again, staring straight into our eyes. Then they flit around trying to spot me. Her cheeks are growing redder as the line behind us grows.
“I will let my Major know. He'll get security on to it, if she's still down here we'll find her.”
The woman nods her head. “She was about this tall. Dark brown hair. She didn't have any bags.”
“That's great. Did you notice what she was wearing?”
“Just jeans and a hoody. Nothing special.”
We nod our head at her and move forward.
“I'll see what I can do.” He answers calmly.
Chapter Fifteen
Nathan walks up to a much older solider and tells him. “Major Matherson, I've just had one of the customs officers try to stop a young lady to check her ticket, but she bolted right past her then disappeared. I had a quick check, but I haven't been able to see any sign of her.”
“Okay. Did you see this happen?” Major Matherson asks, distracted by something else.
“Well … it was weird. I heard the customs officer speak to someone. I turned when her voice got louder and saw a young girl sprinting almost at me, and then she was just… gone.”
“Did she go around you?”
“To be honest, sir, I have no idea. She was there, and then she was just gone.”
“How long did you get home for, solider?” Major Matherson asks Nathan looking intently at him.
“It's not that, sir. I’m not even sure if I saw her.” He admits.
“All right, if she is down here she could have easily ducked into the bathrooms or the parents’ rooms. Peter’s Smith, Albert, over here.” He talks over our head. “I want every closed-off room checked before we get on a plane. Look in any prayer or chapel rooms. I doubt she's gone far. She could just be late for a flight. But if she is hiding we'll find her. There just aren't that many places to hide down here. I'll send Peak, D.C. and Ortiz to check all the female facilities.”
“Got that, Sir. When does the flight leave?”
“Be back in no more than twenty minutes. I do not want to be delayed. We already have to layover in London.”
“Sir.” They all call at the exact same second before starting our search for me.
This is so stupid, I am involved in a search looking for myself. But, I get to go to London, a few minutes searching for myself is worth that.
“Peter’s, can you go ask at the information desk to see how many and where the bathrooms, prayer rooms, or chapels are. Or anything else like that. Smith, we'll go look,” Nathan says.
Peter’s wanders off without saying anything. The Smith guy falls into step with us. “So who are we looking for?”
“Young girl, about eighteen or nineteen I'd say. Jeans, hoody. Brown hair. This high. I didn't get a good look at her, but I should recognise her if I see her again.”
“Good, good. I'll take this one. You the next lot?”
“Yip.”
Ew, why are they looking in the men's toilets? What would I be doing in here?
We turn around and pause at his reflection in the mirror. I lean my head to the side. Nathan leans forward, his eyes popping wide open, touching his fingers to his face. Did I just move in here? My expression matches his.
“You're okay,” I say softly. “There was nothing there.” I say gently, being careful not to move again.
He keeps his eyes frozen on his face. I so wish I could hear what people are thinking instead of just being able to sit inside of them.
“Keep looking for her.” Just as I say it, someone pushes on the bathroom door. We whip around, and march out the door.
“Anything?” Nathan asks Smith.
“Nope.”
“Is Peter's back yet?”
“Nope. Move on to the next lot?”
“Might as well. We're running out of time.”
We enter the prayer room quietly, taking one side each, scanning before we go in any further. There isn’t anyone in here. We walk around the room anyway, looking behind and under everything quickly, and walk back out.
“Nothing,” he calls out as Peter’s saunters over.
“Apparently, these are the only toilet blocks down here. And there is only one prayer room for every faith. It doubles as a chapel.”
“We've done it, then.”
Major Matherson is hissing into a phone when we get back to him, he points to the bags then motions to our gate.
My stomach jumps as Nathan reaches for his bag. I’m going to London.
/> I’ve only been out of North America once, maybe I'll just stay away for a while. I would love to see a castle. I would love to stay in a castle. I change my plans as fast as they come into my head. I wonder how much that would cost. I pat my pocket, luckily my wallet is in there and not in my bag, because I left my bag under the table I was sitting at.
Oh, I want to see that big clock tower thingy, too. Maybe I could catch a flight to Scotland. Apparently they have awesome accents. Swim in the ocean. I haven't done that since I went with mum and dad on holiday to Vanuatu. It was amazing. The water was warm and clear. It was so blue you could see to the bottom for what seemed like miles. I would float in the water, letting myself move in and out as the small waves pulled me. The water was probably only knee deep, but I felt so grown up being in the ocean.
Maybe I could find that place again. I don't have to go back to school. Really, I don't ever have to go back if I don't want to. I can just disappear. I'll let aunt Kelly know where I am, and I can see the world. I could pick fruit or something to get money to live on. I could go to France.
Nathan stows his only bag above us and places himself into the seat next to Smith. I can't believe I'm going to London. I sound just like those girls from the bathroom before. Actually, I turn around to look, I wonder if they are on this flight. It sounded like they had a while to wait before they were leaving, and we were only just in time to make the flight. They might know where I could stay or get a job or something.
I will have to call aunt Kelly as soon as I get there, school won't wait too long after I’m supposed to get there to call her. I hate making her worry, I don't think she stresses about her own kid as much as she does about me.
Nathan clicks his seat belt in place, and my stomach jumps again at the sound. I’m going to London, I want to scream.
We gently pull away from the terminal building, taxing up the runway to take our run up from the far end. My stomach jumps again.
“Good morning, this is your captain speaking. Please follow along with the safety demonstration on the card in the back of the seat in front of you. And follow the directions of the air hostess closest to you.”
He stops for a moment while a line of uniform-clad girls shimmy down the centre aisle with a little box of things, stopping at the same moment, smiling at no one in particular.
“We hope that you will enjoy your flight with us today. Please remain seated until the seat belt sign is turned off. There is no smoking at any time. Once we climb to cruising altitude the first of your meals will be bought around for you this morning.”
The voice disappears, and another female voice replaces it.
They start their demonstration, pointing in unison with both arms to the nearest exits, dropping oxygen masks and inflating life vests. I don't watch. The thought of dropping out of the sky at the beginning of a flight never fills me with huge amounts of enthusiasm.
They end their demonstration by walking slowly down the aisle tugging on the overhead bag compartments. “Please put the tray up, miss.” One of them says to someone I can’t see.
More tugging as they each move up to the front of the plane. Then they disappear. The engines wind up loudly as we sit at the top of the runway.
We are held still for a minute longer, then my whole body gets slammed back into the seat as the plane throws itself down the tarmac. The wing outside my window ever so slightly arcs as the front, then the back wheels no longer touch the ground. We go faster and higher, every minute climbing closer to the clouds, which are finally lightening around the edges.
I watch out the window as the ground gets further and further away from me, the plane shudders as we pass through massive banks of clouds. Still climbing we finally burst through the last of the clouds and into perfect blue skies stretching endlessly to the horizon.
“Good morning, sir. What would you like to eat?” The air hostess smiles politely down at us.
Oh goodness, the smells. There is warm bread in that trolley somewhere. I am STARVING. I run the tips of my fingers down my face. I so want to eat that. I breathe in the smell deeply. We peer into the trolley.
“Bagel with cream cheese thanks,” Nathan says.
“No problem. There is granola or a blueberry muffin as well.”
“I'll have a blueberry muffin thanks.” Me too.
I really should have ordered something with my hot chocolate, I should have known something like this was going to happen. Now I'm going to have to wait until London to eat. Just thinking that is making my stomach gurgle.
He slowly lifts the lid. The smell. He takes an eternity to break off a piece of muffin, it’s still warm. I can see little wafts of steam rising out of the centre. My eyes follow it as it gets placed into his mouth, my mouth, our mouth.
Here he goes again.
“Give me some,” I accidentally ask out loud.
He looks at Smith. “Did you want some?” Nathan asks, protecting his muffin.
Smith looks at him weirdly, “No man, I'm fine.” He holds up a bagel.
“Sorry, I thought you asked for some.”
There it goes again. Warm muffin. I swallow loudly, biting on the edge of my lip. I watch through only one eye as he puts a quarter in his mouth in one go. If I could just …“I'm sorry ladies and gentlemen.” The pilot’s voice comes over the intercom. “But we unfortunately have to turn back to the airport. Please don't be alarmed. There is nothing wrong with the plane. The hostesses and stewards will come and collect any meals that you have. Please stow all loose items and make sure your seatbelts are fastened. We are very sorry for this inconvenience, hopefully it will be cleared up swiftly and we can begin our journey again.”
The voice cuts out and noise erupts.
“What's going on?” A lady yells from a couple of rows back. “Why do we have to go back? Is there a fire? Is something broken?”
Another voice starts screaming, “Oh my gosh, we are going to blow up! The plane is on fire!” I can't see where the voice is coming from, but it’s hyperventilating.
Three other voices shout out, “Where is it coming from?”
“Someone put it out. Please I don't want to die,” a female voice shrieks.
We are out of our seat in an instant. “The plane isn't on fire. Please be calm. You aren't going to die,” Nathan says to the people.
“How do you know? Who are you? Why are you sitting in here? Are you following someone or something?” The guy eyes up the uniform Nathan is wearing like it's proof.
“Oh my gosh,” the voice calls again. “There is someone on the plane. There is a …” She slumps over, breathing between her knees, but I can still hear her sucking at the air three rows in front of her, inside another person.
Smith grabs at Nathan’s hand, but the man, who's still staring at us wide-eyed shouts. “The guy he's with just said yes. There's a bomb!”
About fifty people start screaming and scramble for their mobile phones. Smith climbs out of his seat laboured, staring daggers at the man who just shouted.
“There is no bomb, there is no one we’re watching, and I didn't say yes.” He says acidly at the man. “I’ll go and ask the pilot what the problem is.”
Smith tries to squeeze around us, but the plane takes a sharp turn sending more people squealing and reaching for their phones. The seatbelt sign starts flashing, and the hostesses walk briskly up the rows commanding people to sit down in as forcefully gentle tones as possible.
“No phones. They should be switched off, they interfere with the navigation software.” One hostess keeps looking at the girl. “I will confiscate it if I need to, Miss.”
She stops and eyeballs her with her hand out. But the girl shoves it into her pocket. “Do not bring it out again while the seatbelt sign is on.”
“And I thought only teachers whined about my stupid mobile. I thought being out of school would stop people telling me what to do.” She mumbles to herself. “I'll do what I like, 'coz there's nothing you can really do to me.”
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br /> But she gets quieter as she keeps rambling, until I can only see her mouth moving but can't hear anything she is saying.
A woman is holding onto her pre-school-aged son with white knuckles. She rocks him back and forward as she whispers softly in his ear. He has wet cheeks, but isn't crying anymore. Her eyes dart around like there is some danger waiting to leap out at her. As I zone out of individual people, I realise that all the rows around me are the same.
A man two rows across is staring at the back of the seat in front of him, holding a woman's hand with such force that the tips of her fingers are going purple, but she leaves it there even though it must be aching. A little girl in pink pyjamas is swinging her legs faster and faster as she watches the people around her. She looks right at me, and I smile back at her anxious face. But she just keeps staring. She's not looking at me, she's looking at Nathan I realise. Her mother whips out her hand and grabs her legs.
“Enough. Can't you sit still for just one minute?”
The little girl looks up to her mum, her legs swing to a stop, her eyes never leaving her mother’s anxious face.
The plane dips sharply again, as we dive toward the earth at a much steeper angle than a metal object as big as we are should be. More screaming. The girl starts swinging her legs again, but her mum is too busy controlling the screams that keep bubbling to her lips, while she stares over the top of the girl's head, holding her roughly to her chest.
“Look out the window.” I shout. I don’t want to watch that mother holding her daughter while she thinks she’s going to die. If I survive this, I don’t want to remember their faces.
He turns his head instantly to look out the window. The plane looks like it is going to fall out of the sky. I wonder if I can still die if I am not really in my own body. How would they find me?
The city moves around in a giant circle, coming up to meet us closer every minute we go round. With one last sharp turn, sending half the passengers into ear-piercing shrieks, the plane comes in low over the airport and drops down to meet the tarmac. The wheels lock and everybody slams into their seats.
I lift my arms to brace myself automatically, we both slam hard into the seat in front of us; Nathan cracks his head into the food tray, snapping back sharply, before we are sent hurtling back into our seats.