The Thirteenth

by G. L. Twynham

  Jason started tapping in the codes that Sam had sent with the instructions, and then leant back in his chair.

  “Well?” Delta asked impatiently.

  “She hasn’t arrived anywhere yet, but when she does we’ll know where,” said Jason, smiling confidently. They all huddled around the screen like children at Christmas staring into Hamleys toy store window at the array of tempting treats.

  ‘Bleep.’

  “There she is!” said Jason.

  CHAPTER 8

  Up, Up and Away

  Val opened her eyes to be greeted by a silver bowl containing blue water, which was spinning into an abyss in front of her. A hideously strong smell of detergent violated her nasal passages. She lifted herself up, and instantly realised that she was looking at a tin toilet.

  “Great, toilet. My favourite,” Val said as she surveyed her surroundings. She recognised that this was the sort of toilet you would find on a train or a plane. There was a sudden, violent shudder and Val fell backwards towards the mirror unit. Quickly placing her head between her knees and her hands over her head she started to pray as she rocked backwards and forwards.

  “OK, so I have lied a lot recently, God, and I know I need to pay more attention to my parents, but please, sweet, kind God, if you care about me at all, make this a train not a plane,” Val cried into her knees.

  “Hello Val,” a quiet voice whispered into her ear.

  Val looked up. “Hello. Is that you, God?” She looked around her tin prison for a sign; nothing would surprise her any more.

  “No.” Then she heard giggling. “It’s me Jason, son of Shane.” Then she heard uncontrollable laughing.

  “Well, I’m so pleased you people think this is entertaining,” Val huffed.

  “Sorry Val, I didn’t realise you had a fear of flying,” Jason responded.

  “So, am I on a plane?” Val whimpered.

  “Well, unless you are on a train thirty two-thousand feet above the tracks, yes, you are definitely on a plane.” There was silence.

  “I can’t be on a plane. I want to come home now.” Val started to shake. “Where exactly is this plane?” she asked.

  “Well, from what this computer is telling me, there are lots of numbers and figures, but in plain English you are flying over the North Sea, 15 minutes away from Norfolk,” Jason responded. He could tell by the silence that Val was struggling with this whole situation. “Val, I’m here, so keep talking to me. What do you normally do now? Jason hoped this would get Val moving.

  “Well, I suppose I assess the situation and go and look for whoever needs me,” Val replied as she started to get up.

  “Good, OK. Where exactly are you?” Jason kept his voice very calm.

  “I’m in the toilet. I think I can hear an airhostess talking outside. I need to get out of here without drawing any attention to myself.” Val now felt slightly more focused.

  “I’ll talk to you as you go along. Let’s get going Val.” Val felt a warm feeling all over; she was so pleased to not be alone.

  She flicked the catch and pulled open the door to come face to face with a very grumpy, balding, sweaty, over-weight middle-aged man in an expensive suit, who was obviously in need of the service she had been hogging.

  “Sorry,” Val apologised, looking at the ground as she passed. The man grunted and walked past her into the toilet. Val got a strong whiff of his warm aftershave, which made her stomach slightly more nauseous than it had been before, if that was physically possible.

  Unexpectedly, the plane lurched to one side and Val felt her heart jump into her throat as she grabbed the edge of the nearest seat. “If we were supposed to fly I’m sure we would have wings,” Val hissed under her breath. When she looked up, she saw the full extent of her problem. “Oh bums, this plane is massive.”

  “Val, how many seats from one side to the other?” Jason’s voice resounded in her ear.

  “Only four seats in each row in this section but I can see through the curtains and they are sitting three, four, three. It’s huge.” Val looked around to make sure she wasn’t drawing too much attention to herself as she slowly started to make her way down the plane.

  “Hello,” a young female stewardess in a red suit greeted Val as she passed her. Val smiled back weakly. She needed to keep moving and could see that there were at least four sections up ahead and hundreds of people. How would she know who to help? Maybe she could stand by the door at the end of the flight, like the captain, and shake everyone’s hands.

  She assumed from the champagne flutes that passengers were holding that she was in first class. They seemed to be mostly businesspeople who were clicking on their laptops or, in the case of the women, reapplying their lip-gloss.

  No one here looked in imminent danger so Val headed for the next section. A man who was walking backwards towards her while talking to a stewardess turned. Val instantly recognised his face.

  “Hell, no,” Val whispered, throwing herself clumsily into an empty chair.

  “What’s wrong?” Jason’s voice rang in her ear.

  “Delta, your dad’s here,” Val whispered under her breath hoping that they would hear her.

  “My dad! He’s coming back from the States today. Well, now I can tell you you’re on the VS2343 from Kennedy airport to London Gatwick arriving at eight p.m. our time.” Delta finished with a grunt of satisfaction, as if she had added the secret ingredient to the cake mix that was Val’s life.

  “Great! Just pray that he doesn’t see me. That would be just too much explaining.” Val reached forward to grab a magazine to cover her face. When she peeked over the top, Delta’s father was seated a few rows in front.

  “OK, I’m going to make a move.” Val held the magazine up in front of her face as she headed towards the curtains.

  “What can you see now?” Jason asked.

  “Richard Branson.”

  “What?”

  “I have a magazine in my face and there is a picture of Richard Branson. He looks really good for his age,” Val said.

  “Get serious,” Jason snapped.

  “Yes sir.” Val smiled for the first time, starting to relax. As she moved through the next section, the difference in the passengers was apparent. Most people were casually dressed, and the quality of handbags dropped dramatically. Delta had taught Val a lot about distinguishing classes by accessories and she felt quite sad that she knew these unimportant pieces of trivia.

  “I have moved to economy,” Val said. “I haven’t made contact with anyone, good or bad, yet.”

  “Keep your eyes open,” replied Jason.

  “Will do, Captain,” Val chirped.

  Val was only a few steps into the economy section when a petite blonde woman sprang to her feet about five rows in front of her.

  “He’s got a bomb!” she screamed, jumping into the aisle and starting to run, screaming as she went.

  Within seconds the whole section was on its feet. Like a cattle stampede, they all tried to follow the woman into first class. Val had just enough time to jump into an empty gap from where she observed the full extent of the hysteria. Not only was everyone running, she also had Jason shouting into her ear.

  “Did she say BOMB?” he yelled, repeating it about five times.

  “Stop, shouting!” Val bellowed back at him.

  “Sorry, I didn’t think you could hear me. So, did she say bomb?”

  “Yes,” Val replied abruptly. If her stomach was jumpy before it was now tied in painful knots. Her heart was hammering, she could barely breath and her knees were actually knocking together. She bent down for a second to catch her breath before rising again to take in the full extent of the situation. How, she wondered, was she expected to deal with a bomb?

  Next to where the blonde woman had been sitting, was a thirty-something dark haired man in a blue shirt and slacks. Unlike the other passengers, he hadn’t run for his life, but was now jumping around hysterically in his seat. Val found it even more bizarre that he didn�
��t seem to be making any noise. If he was a terrorist, he was a very quiet, very well-dressed one.

  Stepping out into the aisle, Val composed herself and slowly made her way towards him.

  “What’s going on, Val? Please speak to me.” Jason’s voice was cracking under the pressure.

  “I’m OK. Give me a minute. I think I have found the person I was looking for,” Val replied calmly. She edged closer and all of a sudden the man spotted her. He seemed even more distressed than the other passengers. This made Val think that maybe he wasn’t the bomber the woman had made him out to be. As Val moved closer he became still and she saw that he had one hand handcuffed to the seat.

  “Wow, these people get dirtier every time,” Val whispered, trying not to scare the man who was still like a rabbit in headlights looking at her.

  “Who is dirty?” Jason asked, perplexed by Val’s comments.

  “Shh,” Val snapped. “Hello, my name is Val.” She was now only two aisles away and this whole section of the plane was empty, but she knew they would only have a few seconds alone. The man started to make strange signs with his hand on his chest.

  “He isn’t talking to you. What’s going on?” Jason wanted to know. Jason obviously wasn’t going to be able to keep quiet during this situation, so Val decided she would just ignore him.

  “Are you OK?” Val smiled as the man carried on beating hand signals onto his chest with his free hand. “Can you talk?” He shook his head violently. “OK,” Val smiled.

  “Is he a mute?” Jason called out as if he had guessed the answer to a quiz question.

  “Jason, if you don’t shut up I will cut you off,” Val responded smoothly.

  “OK!”

  “Can you help me? I know you don’t have a bomb,” Val said. The man nodded vigorously. “Do you know where she put her bag? Maybe there are some keys for your cuffs?” Val was now next to the man. If this was a set-up then this would be his moment to attack. She gently placed her hand into her back pocket checking that her sword was there. As it brushed her fingers she felt slightly more secure. The man pointed to the overhead luggage compartments. Val smiled again, hoping to reassure him. Reaching up and releasing the door handle, she quickly pulled down all the bags. The man pointed vigorously at one of them; it was brown leather, like the ones Val had seen doctors with. As she picked it up he became very agitated, shaking his head and stamping his feet. Val dropped the bag and took a step back.

  “Has this got a bomb in it?” Val asked him. He shook his head and Val felt the relief wash over her body. She picked the bag up again, more carefully this time. There was a large tag on it: ‘Name; Paul Brown – speech impaired’. Val smiled and pointed at him. “Are you Paul?” The man nodded with tears of relief in his eyes.

  Val placed it down. “Do you see the woman’s bag?” Paul nodded again pointing to a red leather handbag. Val picked it up and tentatively opened the zip. Before she had time to look inside, Paul sat down abruptly, and was looking even more petrified. When she looked at him he pointed past her head.

  “What do you want to tell me?” Val asked, but before she could get any more out of him, a deep Texan accent came from behind her.

  “Ma’am, I’m Sky Marshal Lewis. Please raise your hands and move away slowly.”

  Val turned around, gently placing the red bag next to Paul. Behind her, a man in blue jeans, white shirt and a black bomber jacket was aiming a gun at Paul’s head.

  “No! Stop! You don’t understand.” Val raised her hands towards the man, trying to block his view of Paul, in the hope he would listen to her, aware that Paul was now fumbling through the red handbag with his free hand. If she could get him a little time, maybe he would find the keys.

  “I won’t tell you again. I’m an armed sky marshal and if you do not leave that man right now I will have to assume that you are his accomplice.” The man was edging forward. Only three or four rows separated them now. To her horror she realised that he was pointing his gun directly at her head. Val saw Paul pulling out a set of keys. “Stay calm. This may still work out,” Val told herself. Then, behind the marshal, she saw the woman who had originally raised the alarm. She stared at Val, then gave her a little teasing wave.

  Val would have been more annoyed if she hadn’t just seen Paul undoing his cuffs.

  “Please, this man can’t speak. See, there a label on his bag that tells you that. That woman handcuffed him to his chair and…” Before Val could finish, the woman grabbed the unsuspecting sky marshal’s hand and was pulling at his gun. As he struggled with the woman, the gun went off. Val’s instincts kicked in. She leapt through the air, her hands reaching out like a goalkeeper’s, her body pushing in front of Paul with no thought for her own safety.

  Val focused all her energy on deflecting the flying bullet with one hand. It felt like she was bending the air with her hand. The power that surged through her was similar to the energy she had used on the lifeguard. With her other hand, she grabbed Paul’s jacket and pulled him to the floor. There was aloud thud just millimetres above her head as the bullet penetrated his chair. Val knew that she had saved Paul’s life.

  As they lay on the floor, chaos reigned overhead. Time to go. She looked at Paul, smiled and grabbed his hand.

  Val felt the blue spark, and a deep sense of relief to be off the plane. She landed hard in front of the painting, to an instant explosion of cheers from her adoring fans. As she stood up Delta started hugging her, thanking her profusely for coming back, and for saving her dad. Shane was visibly moved by the whole experience. Jason grabbed Val and lifted her off the floor and into his arms before planting a huge kiss on her cheek.

  “You are my hero,” he said into Val’s ear, lowering her gently to the ground.

  “Wow! I wish I could have taken you lot with me before.” Val smiled. This felt amazing; at last her friends could see what she had to go through.

  “I feel a celebration is in order.” Shane waved his arm in the air almost like a general calling his troops together.

  “Don’t you think Val should have a rest?” Delta said.

  “No, I’m fine. Let’s party.” Val was loving this.

  As they closed the shop and packed away all the goodies, Val looked at the others, feeling a sense of satisfaction, as if she was now part of a team. Today she actually liked her life, even if it was the strangest life possible.

  Arriving at the ‘Snakes and Ladders’ burger bar, Val was filled with excitement. Jason had kissed her! OK, only on the cheek, but hey, she wasn’t complaining. So where should she go from here? She saw marriage maybe two years down the line and then three children, although she did want to do a little travelling before then.

  “Come on ‘Val the amazing’ let’s get you some meat.”

  Val snapped out of her daydream as Delta grabbed her arm and they waltzed into the bar.

  The smell of burgers frying and the sixties music playing made this place one of Val’s favourites.

  “This place, it reminds me of home,” Delta said, looking pensive. Val forgot that Delta was away from her home and her other friends, with whom she spent considerably more time than she did with Val.

  When the waitress brought their drinks, Delta called for silence. “I would like to make a toast to the bravest, and most courageous person I know,” she said, lifting her sparkling water. They all raised their drinks.

  Val thought that she might pass out with the feeling of sheer contentment in her heart, and she hadn’t even eaten her favourite double burger with pineapple yet.

  “To Val,” they chorused.

  “Shh,” the barman shouted over in an annoyed tone. He was staring very closely at a large flat screen TV over the bar.

  “What’s going on?” Shane asked him as they all turned to look at the screen.

  “Plane crash. They say it’s a blood bath; no chance of survivors,” he replied.

  In the silence of the moment, Val heard Delta’s glass smash on the floor. She got up from the table
with an expression Val had never seen before. Val rose and followed her as she moved to the bar. The TV screen showed a burnt-out plane. What was left of the tail was sticking out of the ground, resembling a bleak gravestone. The Sky news reporter was grim. “Gatwick airport is not releasing any information until the families of crew and passengers have been informed. We are unsure of the number of casualties. Looking at the devastation, the situation doesn’t look promising.” As she finished speaking a trilling sound broke the silence.

  “Delta, it’s your phone,” Shane grasped Delta’s hand, thrusting a glossy pink phone into it.

  Delta opened it in a dream like state. “Yes,” she nodded. “OK, I’ll come home now.” Delta closed the phone and started to walk towards the exit without even turning to speak to the others.

  “Wait! I’ll drive you,” Jason called out.

  “Let me come too, Delta.” Val followed.

  Delta turned around with tears welling in her eyes. “You have done enough damage. Please stay and celebrate your great success.” She turned and ran through the doors, leaving the others silently watching.

  When Val started to follow, Shane grabbed her arm. “Not the best time, Val. Leave her to go home,” he nodded gently at Val.

  “But she needs me.” Val now had tears streaming down her face. “This is all my fault. I should never have got any of you involved.” She started to pull away from Shane’s grasp and he instinctively knew to let her go.

  “Delta will be OK,” Shane called as Val followed Delta.

  “Oi! Someone has to pay the bill,” called the barman angrily.

  “It’s OK, I’ll pay you now!” said Shane making his way back to the bar. Jason stood looking between his dad and the door, almost unable to decide what to do.

  “Leave it, son. They’ll be OK and there’s nothing we can do right now. Come on, let’s go home.” Shane passed a bundle of notes over the counter and, putting his large arm around his son’s shoulders, led him out.

  Delta had already left the car park by the time Val pushed through the door; she knew there was no way of stopping her now.