by Rand, Thonas
“Move these passengers into business class; I have to get the captain.”
“Okay,” Karen answered.
Mark went downstairs, and Karen dialed a phone to call the crew rest area on the first deck.
In the back of the plane, a phone rang softly and Elizabeth answered it. “Crew quarters, how may I help you?”
“Elizabeth, is Peter down there?”
“Yes, he is, Karen.”
“We have a situation in first class; can you send him up here straight away?”
“I would, but he’s sick, he’s been in the lavatory for fifteen minutes and hasn’t come out.”
“Oh dear,” Karen said.
“I’ll come up to help.”
“Thank you, Elizabeth, as soon as you can.”
“What happened?”
“Keep this to yourself, but a passenger has died.”
“Oh my lord. I’ll be right there.”
Elizabeth hung up the phone and headed to first class. She looked at the restroom that Peter was in as she passed and the door was still closed.
Karen hung up her phone and began to address the passengers. “Can I have everyone’s attention, please?”
Mark hurriedly knocked on the cockpit door and they let him in. “Captain, the sick passenger in first class that I told you about earlier…”
“Yes, the one with the flu, what is it now, Mark?”
“Um, he died, Captain.”
“What? How?” the captain asked.
“I don’t know, none of us knew that he had passed; he must have died in his sleep.”
The captain activated the autopilot on the instrument panel and turned to the copilot. “Charlie, fetch the air marshal and meet us in first class.”
“Yes, sir.”
The copilot left and the captain went with Mark to go upstairs. “Mind the store, Jimmy, like a good lad,” he said to the navigator.
“Of course, sir.” Jimmy answered dutifully.
They left him alone, and he closed the cockpit door.
All the passengers were gone in first class; only Karen and Elizabeth remained, except for Nick’s covered body, which they stood a deliberate distance from. The emptiness of the cabin had a definite eerie vibe. The women were relieved when Mark returned with the captain. “Ladies,” the captain said as he walked by.
In economy class, Charlie, the copilot, walked up to Paul and George’s seats and discretely motioned for George to come with him. George unbuckled his seat belt and got up hastily, and that’s when Paul saw the pistol in a shoulder holster under George’s jacket.
“Nice pistol, George; you never mentioned what business you were in?” Paul asked.
George leaned in to Paul for privacy. “I’m an air marshal. Please, try to keep that information to yourself.”
“Of course,” Paul answered and George went with Charlie.
The captain had just finished his own examination of Nick’s body and he pulled the blanket back over his lifeless face. “You said you thought that he had a flu, Mark?” the captain asked.
“I’m not sure, Captain, it’s just a guess, but he was definitely ill.”
“What about Peter? He wasn’t feeling well, either,” Karen added.
“What does Peter have to do with this?” the captain said.
“The passenger grabbed his arm and scratched him,” Mark said.
The captain was confused. “Scratched him?”
“Yes, it drew blood, Captain.” Karen said.
“Really? Where is he now?”
“Last I saw, he was in the lavatory in the crew rest area, I believe he was vomiting.” Elizabeth said.
“Be a dear and check on him, would you?” the captain asked.
“Yes, sir, right away.” Elizabeth left.
Charlie arrived with the air marshal. “What’s happened?” George asked.
“Hello, George, good of you to come,” the captain said. “We’ve had a passenger death.”
“What was the cause?” the air marshal asked.
“We’re not quite sure, but the man seemed to have a flu.” the captain speculated.
“Flu? N1H1? Doesn’t that take a long time to kill someone?” George asked.
“Yes, so if it was a flu, then he was probably in the last stages of it when he boarded, poor devil, he should have went to hospital instead of going on a trip,” the captain said. “But these things happen sometimes; it’s not out of the ordinary.”
“Did you check his pulse, Captain?” the air marshal asked.
“Yes, of course I did, so did Mark. Didn’t you, Mark?”
Nick’s body SAT UP a few feet behind the captain and everyone saw it but him. They were all startled as they looked at the sitting corpse with the blanket still over his head, making it look like a phantasm.
Mark didn’t answer, his eyes were locked on Nick’s body. “Bloody hell!” he said.
“What is it?” the captain said and turned, he saw what they looked at. “Is this someone’s idea of a sick joke?” he said.
The blanket slipped off Nick’s head, revealing what he had become—gray, dead skin, abnormally colored eyes, and a rancid mouth dripping blood-infused saliva—It saw them and roared madly, it charged and attacked the closest person—the captain had no room to avoid the attack—it jumped on him and brought him to the floor. The force of the attack pushed the others away; Charlie staggered backwards, Mark and the air marshal were thrown to the floor, while Karen staggered back and screamed so suddenly that her voice broke and produced a loud hiss.
Elizabeth knocked on the restroom that Peter was in. “Peter, are you okay?” she said but got no response. “Peter?” and then she looked down and saw the blood that soaked the door seam. “What the…?”
She pulled out a special key to unlock the door…
The creature thrust onto the captain and pinned him to the floor; he tried to push it away from him, but the thing bit into one of his hands and tore away most of his palm and took his thumb. The captain shouted in terrible pain, and then the corpse clamped down on his neck, its savage jaws closed, and the teeth tore out a large chunk of flesh. The captain’s severed arteries pumped blood everywhere.
Elizabeth unlocked the restroom door and opened it slowly, she saw what it was inside—it was all red—blood covered almost everything and lying on the floor in the middle of it, was Peter, huddled on his knees. “Jesus Christ!” Elizabeth muttered in a panic. “Peter!”
The captain was in a death rattle as the dead one feasted on him, the others gathered themselves and rushed to help him. Mark and Charlie grabbed the creature by the shoulders and tried to pull it away from the captain, but it swung its arm around and knocked Charlie in the face; he fell back out of control. It attacked Mark and bit into his arm; he pulled back to get away shouting in fierce pain. Karen gasped in horror, and the rabid monster saw her, growled viciously, and sprang off the captain’s lifeless body to attack her.
She screamed in terror—and this time, her voice worked perfectly: Everyone on the plane heard it…
Elizabeth was about to check Peter for signs of life when she heard the echo of Karen’s distant scream from the second deck. She turned in its direction and that’s when Peter turned around on his knees toward her.
It wasn’t Peter.
It grabbed her, clutched at her legs, and then bit into her thigh. She bellowed in agony so loud that the sound waves vibrated the ribbons of blood that gushed from her leg. Other flight attendants and nearby passengers saw the attack; they froze from confusion and shock.
It was brutal.
The thing that was once Nick bolted for Karen and was almost on top of her, until the air marshal tackled it to the ground. It clawed and scratched as George pinned it down with a bear hug, but it kicked and thrashed violently to get away. It tried to bite George’s face but couldn’t reach, so it bit his arm. Its teeth tore through his jacket and into his bicep. The air marshal grit his teeth in pain, and then Charlie pulled the
creature off him, he tried to hold it facedown with his knees in its back, but it had incredible strength. He almost lost control as it tried to attack him and then George got up and helped him subdue the thing. The air marshal pulled out a pair of handcuffs and shackled its hands behind its back.
They got off it because it was covered in blood, and they could smell urine and excrement from it. It flailed like a wild animal as it tried to get up, but couldn’t. It pulled at the handcuffs again and again, but couldn’t break the steel.
It kept trying aggressively.
Growling madly.
Pulling at the cuffs with everything it had…
The thing that was Peter was wrapped around Elizabeth’s thigh, ripping part of her leg out, it looked up at her and growled with a mouthful of flesh. She looked into its eyes that were stretched open and its wide pupils were dilated black circles that resembled caves that went straight down to Hell, and that terrified her more than the pain she felt in her leg. The thing pulled Elizabeth to the floor and pounced on her, its filthy hands tore through her clothes as it reached for her and then it fingers punctured her abdomen. She let out a spasm of screams as blood peppered her face. It bit near her eye, tore out most of her cheek. Skin stretched and ripped as it pulled the flesh away in its jaw.
A male attendant ran to her aid. “Peter, what’re you doing, get off of her!”
It turned to the attendant and focused its mutated eyes on him with a long growl of intent. The attendant was immediately overcome with fear at the sight of the thing, which wasted no time as it abandoned the girl, and sprang to its feet.
The attendant had no time to retreat.
Charlie and the air marshal had barely caught their breaths when they heard the screams of Elizabeth down below. “What the devil is going on?” Charlie shouted.
“I’ll go check,” George volunteered.
“What about your arm?” Charlie asked.
“I’ll be fine.”
Charlie looked at Mark who was tying a towel around his wounded arm. “Mark, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, go see what’s happening,” Mark said and then motioned to the handcuffed animal. “I’ll keep an eye on that thing.”
“Where’s the captain?” George asked incredulously.
They looked at the floor where the captain fell and he was gone, only bloodstains remained.
“There he is!” Karen pointed.
They saw a glimpse of him as he went down the stairs.
“Captain?” Charlie called out.
Charlie and the air marshal went after him.
“Karen, go and calm the passengers in business,” Mark said.
Karen didn’t answer; she was transfixed on the handcuffed thing that thrashed to get free.
“Karen!” he shouted.
She snapped out of it. “Yes!”
“Go and calm the passengers in business class.”
“Yes, of course.”
She went back to the flight attendant station and opened the privacy curtain to get through, the curtains provided no barrier against sound, so when she opened the other curtain to the business class side, she found all the passengers in apprehension as to what was going on.
“Please, everyone, if you would take your seats, I’ll try to explain what has happened.” she said.
None of them sat down.
Charlie and George found the captain halfway down the staircase, he had his hand pressed against his neck, but blood squirted in between his fingers with the pace of his dying heart. He took each step slowly and used his mangled hand with no thumb to grip the hand railing; it red-washed the rail’s fine wood.
“Captain, where are you going?” Charlie asked.
“I need…get back…cockpit,” he mumbled with delirious, pale lips.
“You need to sit down,” Charlie said and helped by holding him as he looked at George. “Go.”
The air marshal left and hurried to the rear of the plane.
Jeffrey and Richard were out of their seats trying to see what was happening in the rear of the plane when George came down the stairs and dashed past them.
“Oy! What’s going on?” Jeffrey shouted.
“Stay in your seats!” the air marshal shouted and kept going.
“This isn’t good, mate,” Jeffrey said to Richard.
“I know.”
George raced by Paul in his seat. “George, what in blazes is going on?”
“Stay in your seat, Paul!” he said in a blur.
Charlie reached the bottom of the stairs with the captain in tow. Jeffrey and Richard saw them. “Holy crap! What happened to him?” Richard asked.
“He was attacked,” Charlie said.
“Attacked? By what, a tiger?” Jeffrey said.
“Help me, damn you!” Charlie told them.
They helped carry the captain and they sat him down across from the cockpit door, Charlie grabbed some towels from a cabinet and placed them against the captain’s neck wound, applying pressure to stop the bleeding.
The cockpit door opened, and Jimmy saw his chief pilot covered in blood. “Charlie, what happened to the captain?” he asked nervously.
“Jimmy, close that door and don’t open it for anybody, but me! Understood?” Charlie ordered.
“What’s happened?” Jimmy asked.
“Close the door and call it in!” Charlie shouted.
“Call in what?” Jimmy asked.
“Tell them that the captain has been attacked by a passenger! Now close the bloody door!”
Jimmy did as he was instructed; the door closed and locked.
Charlie looked at Jeffrey and Richard. “Thank you, you can go back to your seats and try to remain calm,” he told them.
“Remain calm? Are you insane?” Jeffrey shouted.
“Is there a killer onboard?” Richard asked.
“No, it was a sick man,” Charlie answered.
“What kind of sick man does this?” Jeffrey demanded.
Before Charlie could answer, the captain exhaled loudly and stopped breathing. “No, no, no!” Charlie exclaimed. He yanked the captain down and laid him on the floor so he could perform CPR…
The steward’s eyes were wide open from terror as droplets of blood landed all over his forehead. The dead Peter was ripping into his chest and throat; it had tackled him over a seat and they were both on top of another terrified passenger. The beast saw the woman underneath the steward and reached for her face. She screamed, and it grabbed her by the lower jaw and yanked violently, severing her tongue and pulling it out in streams of blood. All the passengers had scattered as they tried to get away from the horror unfolding before them.
“Hey!” the air marshal called to it.
It was eating the woman’s tongue when it stood up to George’s call. The air marshal was standing twenty feet away in a tactical stance, aiming his sidearm at Peter. It lurched forward at him and he took careful aim.
He placed his finger on the trigger…
It ran faster for him…
He took a deep breath—
It was ten feet from him…
He held his breath—
The thing opened its mouth for savagery…
He pulled the trigger—
A spent nine-millimeter shell casing fell to the carpet…
It wouldn’t be alone for long…
The bullet hit the creature in the center of its chest—
It stopped shortly from the impact…
And then it charged for him again…
George couldn’t believe that it didn’t go down, and then he fired again—
Hitting it in the heart, but it kept coming…
Then the air marshal aimed for its head…
He was about to fire—until Elizabeth tackled him from the side, her face stretched in a rage of the dead—the one with two bullets holes in its chest joined in and they both began tearing through the air marshal’s clothes to get at his flesh. His gun fell out of his hand, bounced off a sea
t and out of sight.
Charlie desperately tried to resuscitate the captain. He did chest compressions to restart his heart, and then he stopped and gave him oxygen by performing mouth-to-mouth. He checked the captain’s pulse and there was nothing. “Come on, Henry, don’t quit on me!” Charlie told the lifeless man.
Charlie did more chest compressions and was in such a frenzy to bring him back from the dead, that he didn’t notice the captain’s skin turn gray. He stopped on his chest and gave him more mouth-to-mouth, his mouth was against the captain’s, dangerously close as Charlie blew a long force of air into his lungs, but it didn’t do any good. He didn’t see it when the captain’s eyes move under the closed lids, they moved, just briefly.
He was gone.
“Goddamnit!” Charlie stated in defeat.
He grabbed another clean towel and placed it over the captain’s face.
And then he heard the air marshal’s screams…
Charlie took off running toward the rear of the plane, leaving the captain’s body where it lay.
Jeffrey and Richard walked in the direction that Charlie headed.
The captain’s body was left unattended.
And a moment later—
He sat up…
Mark was by himself with the handcuffed beast in first class, and it was still battling to free itself from the steel bracelets.
Ching!
Ching!
Ching!
The handcuffs were taking a beating from the force of the creature. Mark could also hear Karen, not too far away, in the business section receiving loud complaints from distressed passengers as she tried to calm them down. He was sweating abnormally and looked feverish, weak. Mark removed the towel from his arm to look at the bite wound; it was deep, and he could see the ulna bone of his forearm through a thin layer of translucent muscle that had been bitten off. The bleeding wouldn’t stop. He became weaker and almost fell; he braced himself against a seat and then he heard something that caught his attention—
Ching!
Ching—