Taker

by Patrick Wong

  “So, no gun. I’m thinking we just go with the knife. Be quicker?”

  Ben nodded. “Five minutes.”

  “Awesome.”

  With a click of a couple buttons, the printer whirred into action. Despite having a clear understanding of the coding behind most of these technologies, Ben could still appreciate the magical element of printing out something solid and useful from just a few lines of code. If he weren’t trying to be a little more self-aware in this time of panic, he would have just laid his head down right there and watched the laser carve it out bit by bit.

  Both Ben and Drake suddenly heard something and looked down the aisle of the cabin.

  “Nicole!” Amy called to her friend, motioning with jubilant urgency about her discovery at the back of the plane.

  This was how Nicole came to meet Janet and Ed Hofmeier, an elderly couple who were returning home after visiting their grandchildren — a rare trip, given Ed’s aggressive lung cancer. His oxygen tank was sitting neatly by his side — the first thing Amy had spotted. Janet had been doing her best to keep him calm, but the signs of strain were telling on her face.

  In the few minutes since crouching next to them, Nicole had heard all about Eric and Rebekah, the mischievous twins, and Janet and Ed’s older daughter, who lived just up the road from Nicole, in fact. They answered Nicole’s questions and explained how they’d met — they’d worked together at the old plant; Janet wasn’t so keen, but Ed pursued — and how they had been married. Janet had even produced a black-and-white photo out of Ed’s wallet of their wedding day. Everything seemed much simpler back then in photographs. There they were — Janet and Ed — young and in love and bliss.

  “You can’t see it there, but I had red hair.”

  “Beautiful,” Ed added.

  “Of course, it faded over the years, and now I have this.” Janet indicated to her short, silver locks.

  “Wherever she went, she’d turn heads,” Ed continued.” They’d all say to her, ‘Jan, did you hit your head before you married him?’ I was a scrap of a boy then,” Ed laughed.

  Nicole laughed with him and glanced up at Janet, who was now fussing over Ed as he coughed from too much talking. The prognosis wasn’t good — three or four months, Janet had whispered. They both had covered over the sadness; they’d had 40 years of marriage. But the prospect of Ed’s imminent passing was still poignant, and Nicole felt the sorrow of the inevitability of a loving couple being parted before either was ready.

  “Anyone know what’s happening up there?” Ed became a little more serious now.

  “They’re trying to fix it.”

  “You just let me into the cockpit — I can still kick some ass!” Ed joked.

  They all smiled, and for a moment the four united in a brief spell of levity. In a way, Nicole reflected, Ed’s sentiment was exactly what she was intending to do.

  It was time.

  She stood up and took Amy’s hand.

  “We’ll be back,” she said to the couple, and the girls began advancing up the aisle.

  But they had taken only a few steps before a terrible mechanical groan came from beneath them. Others in the cabin, primed for new panic, screamed, and the plane lurched downward.

  Nicole felt her heart race now. She clutched onto a nearby seat with most of her strength, sinking her fingers into the rough, carpet-like gray fabric. The cabin lights were blinking on and off, somehow mirroring the tremendous pace of her pulse.

  What was happening now? Was she too late to help?

  A passenger next to her, a scared-looking girl about her age, grabbed her arm to stop her from falling further. Nicole looked up and met the girl’s frightened gaze. Amy seized onto another passenger in front.

  Once more, the plane jolted on its path downward. Nicole recalled the flight simulator at a theme park she had once gone to. But this was real. They were going to hit the ground soon.

  Nicole tried to stand, but she felt her legs taken from underneath her.

  Suddenly, the oxygen masks released from above the heads of the passengers — the sure sign of impending disaster.

  “Everyone, get your masks on!” Nicole screamed as she stood back up.

  “What’s happening, Nix?” Amy cried.

  “I don’t know. We’re out of time.” Nicole looked down at the girl who had caught her moments earlier. “Thanks. I’m OK. I’m needed at the front,” she said calmly before holding out her hand to Amy.

  Amy nodded, but when she tried to lift her feet, the steep incline caused her to stumble down once more.

  Nicole scanned her brain for what to do. She could feel the veins in her eyes pulsating, and the room appeared redder than before.

  “Let go of the seats. We’ll fall some, but it’ll get us there faster.”

  Without hesitation, Amy released her grip on the seat and let her body slide down.

  After a second’s delay, Nicole opened her own clenching hands and felt herself fall forward toward the front of the plane. Past the business aisles they slid, all the while hearing the unmistakable moan of the plane on its descent.

  Are You Freaking Kidding Me?

  As Amy and Nicole tumbled to the front of the cabin, the off-duty pilot grabbed both girls and helped them to their feet.

  “Before you try to stop us, you need to know that we can help,” Nicole pleaded, locking eye contact with the man.

  Raymond moved his hands in a calming, up-and-down motion. “Girls, please. We got this,” he declared.

  “So what’s your brilliant plan? Storm the cockpit like a bunch of meatheads?” Amy asked.

  Raymond, getting frustrated, pointed at the cockpit door. “You got a better plan? Can you make a miracle happen here and now to fix all this?”

  Nicole nodded without hesitation. “If you can get me in that cockpit, damn right I can deliver a miracle.”

  Raymond looked at Amy as if to confirm he’d heard what he thought he’d heard. Amy pointed to Nicole enthusiastically in agreement. “She can do it.”

  Confused by Nicole’s proposition and flustered because of the lack of time, Raymond just mustered an awkward smile in return. “Fine. Whatever. That’s Plan B. But we’re doing Plan A first. Plan A is my original plan, OK? Because I don’t really feel like dying today while waiting for this miracle thing to occur. So, let us go in first. But if Plan A falls apart, I guess you can do whatever it is you need to do.”

  “Thanks,” Nicole offered, out of breath. She cast her eyes around. “Where’s Ben?”

  “Here! It’s ready!” Ben shouted, popping up from behind a seat and brandishing the printed knife.

  Amy squared herself in front of Ben, put her hand on his shoulders and spoke to him like a first-grade teacher speaking to a student. “OK. Can you use the knife? To try to unlock the door?”

  But before Ben could answer, Raymond interrupted. “Oh, I can do better than that.” He stepped forward, pushed through the group, and flicked aside a concealed panel, revealing the security-code keypad on the door.

  “Are you freaking kidding me?” Drake screamed. He grabbed Raymond and pushed him against the locked airplane serving carts. The severity of the impact caused the wall behind the carts to rattle. Everyone stepped back, shocked to hear Drake get so angry — everyone except for Amy, who let a small grin slip out. She enjoyed this primitive display of aggression, though she would never admit that to anybody. “You mean you could’ve opened the door with a code this whole time we’ve been trying to break it down?” Drake demanded.

  “Sorry. I know we’re all on the same team here,” Raymond retorted. “Look, it’s pretty clear the pilot is no longer in control. We have to act now. Also, there’s another thing you may not have noticed.” He pointed toward the window of the cabin door. “We’re not alone.”

  Outside, two fighter jets armed with several missiles visible beneath each of their wings were escorting Flight 91.

  “Raymond, enough talking. Just open the damn door before we get shot down!
” Nicole urged.

  Everyone nodded and seemed to instinctively assume their roles.

  “One, two, three — go!” Nicole shouted.

  In a split second, Raymond punched in the code to the door, and Drake flung it open.

  What they encountered rushing into the cabin was one of the worst sights either of them had ever beheld. The pilot was slumped in his seat, having put up one hell of a fight before he died. Allen reeled around, his bulbous eyes glaring back at them, a crazed expression on his face. What lurked beneath wasn’t — couldn’t — be human. It was like Allen was half-man, half-zombie. Though he looked severely wounded, he wasn’t bleeding.

  Raymond reached out and grabbed for Allen, who looked half his size in this small space.

  “Idiots,” Allen spat, which seemed an odd statement from a man looking at the business end of Raymond’s fist.

  But as Raymond advanced, Allen kicked a green syringe that lay discarded at his feet. With a surprising flourish of energy, Allen easily grasped Raymond by his neck, and the off-duty pilot sank to his knees. Drake tried to help Raymond out of Allen’s vise-like grip, but the pair struggled in vain.

  Then Nicole arrived, putting Allen in a quandary. Keep his two assailants occupied, or deal with the teenage girl who had a serious expression on her face?

  This was what Nicole had been hoping for — to confuse the hijacker enough to let Raymond get control and to allow her to get in close.

  Sure enough, Drake noticed Allen’s momentary confusion and released his hand to punch him. Raymond then leapt for the control stick, but Allen was back on him in an instant. Drake made another desperate attempt to pull Raymond away, but Allen struck out with his backhand, swatting Drake down like a fly.

  Gradually, and with mammoth effort, Raymond was still able to heave back the control stick. From the cockpit window, the all-too-close ground below veered away again.

  But it was to be only a momentary comfort.

  “Nooooooooo!” Allen screamed. He clamped his hands around Raymond’s neck.

  Raymond choked his instructions to Drake, who leapt into action. Drake seized the controls, struggling to keep the plane’s course on target.

  “Keep … it … steady!” Raymond cried through desperate chokes. How was it possible for this one guy to hold back two men?

  “Step away from the flight controls, or I’ll kill him!” Allen screamed, spitting as he did.

  “Don’t let go!” Raymond shouted. His lungs were seizing up as the pressure of the hijacker’s fingers crushed his neck. It was as though Raymond knew he had to be willing to sacrifice himself.

  With the plane back on a more even keel, Nicole found she didn’t have to steady herself anymore. She simply had to focus.

  She observed Allen in his crazy, drug-induced state as he was watching the last strands of life drain out of Raymond. She thought of all the people on the plane who had put their trust in the crew to get them to Florida safely. This man, this hijacker, had no right to be there.

  She felt the hate in her heart. She would use this to Balance.

  From her pocket, she produced the black-and-white image of the newlywed Janet Hofmeier, the happy young bride so full of life, and then her groom, Ed, so proud in his best suit. She imagined this photo of Ed with a burn hole in his chest area, like an X-ray of a cancerous bulge — something that needed extracting. She could do this — she could give this part to Allen and swap it out for the health left in him. Then she could Balance that to Ed.

  The hijacker didn’t notice the freckled teenager reach out her hand and clasp it toward him. He was too busy enjoying the pain and the reddening face of the pilot who had been stupid enough to take him on, while also attempting to stab the hulking teen. He didn’t see how tightly she had shut her eyelids, nor how she was concentrating so hard that she felt like her head would burst.

  Nicole conjured the horrible cancerous mass in Ed and imagined it appearing in her palm. She felt its weight, and its disease. The astonishing pain arrived. This, then, was how it felt to experience lung cancer. It was terrible, agonizing — even held like this, away from her body. How could Ed stand it? She could barely breathe. After taking a moment, Nicole opened her hands and released it all into Allen Kreschkensky.

  Raymond felt the hijacker’s fingers loosen from around his neck, and with a gasp of air, he saw his assailant buckle over and begin to wheeze.

  “Raymond, now!” Drake cried. He dragged Allen off the pilot’s seat and out of the cockpit. Raymond took control.

  The plane emitted a wheeze of its own as it pulled up and out of harm’s way.

  There was no time to lose, and Raymond knew his first priority.

  “Orlando, this is Flight 91. We have resumed control of the aircraft. Repeat. Friendlies have control of the aircraft!” Raymond shouted.

  After a few tense seconds, one of the fighter jets pulled along the side of the cockpit so Raymond could see the fighter pilot. He then gave Raymond a quick salute, and a visible thumbs-up.

  Nicole had done it.

  With her adrenaline now ebbing, Nicole felt her knees shaking a little beneath her. She took a few unsteady steps as she supported herself out of the cockpit and into the cabin. She and Ben shared a moment of relieved eye contact.

  The ding of the PA system sounded across the cabin, and the pilot’s grin was audible as he spoke.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls — this is your new captain speaking. My name is Captain Raymond, and I’m one of the good guys. This plane is back under control. We got him!” Raymond declared jubilantly.

  Massive applause and cheers erupted from the passengers. All those who moments before had been facing the prospect of certain death had now had their lives restored.

  All apart from Allen, who was struggling to breathe. Eyes still bulging, veins pumped with the malevolent chemicals that had fueled his desperate hijack attempt, he was coughing in agony as Drake manhandled him out of the cabin and onto the front row of seats.

  But it was Nicole he glared up at. He had seen the look on her face as he’d felt the rot curl into his body.

  “What have you done?” he moaned. “All I wanted was to help my family, so they wouldn’t have to worry about money again.”

  “For all these people’s lives?”

  “You’ll know when you have kids.” He gave a sickened cough then, some fluid lifting from his ailing lungs. “Now I’m gonna rot in jail.”

  “Maybe, but not for long,” Amy replied.

  Allen fixed his bulbous, almost hopeful gaze on the girls.

  “No,” Amy continued, “you’ll be dying from lung cancer. Prognosis: two to four months, tops.”

  Shock clouded Allen’s gaze. “How … ?”

  The ding from the cockpit interrupted him.

  “This is your new captain speaking again …”

  The cabin erupted once more, like a crowd at a rock concert. Nicole, Amy, Ben and Drake exchanged exhilarated but exhausted smiles.

  “Now, I do have a little good news and a little bad news. The bad news is that we’re not allowed to land at Orlando International as planned. We are being diverted to a nearby military base.” Raymond paused, letting the cabin quiet down as the passengers digested the bad news.

  “But the good news is, we are landing. So fasten your seatbelts and prepare for the best damn landing you’ve ever had in your life!” Raymond seemed to be relishing this moment and playing up to the crowd.

  The cabin gushed into enthusiastic cheers and whistles again. “Ray-mond! Ray-mond! Ray-mond! …”

  At the very back of Flight 91, Ed Hofmeier, coughing from too much oxygen in his suddenly healthy lungs, ripped off his mask and gave his wife a huge kiss.

  One of the Good Guys

  Nicole returned to her row, grabbed a blanket and pillow from the overhead compartment, and sank back into her seat. Now she was like any of the other passengers again and could allow herself some time to relax. She felt the landing gear detach
beneath her and listened to the customary dings from the cockpit that let the flight attendants know to buckle up. They weren’t looking too worse for the wear at first glance, though, upon closer inspection, the strain was evident on their faces.

  Nicole was just about to close her eyes when she heard a young girl singing several rows behind her. She looked in the direction of the voice and saw it was the girl who had brought her the sword earlier. She was still dressed in the same plain clothes.

  “Wondered when you were going to show up again,” Nicole whispered, more fondly than in her previous conversation with the girl. “No gifts of medieval weapons this time?”

  “You took it,” was her simple reply.

  “You’re right. I did,” Nicole said.

  The little girl smiled back and bowed before Nicole, and then she disappeared into a grassy meadow stretched out before a farmhouse in the distance.

  Comforted that she had pleased the vision, Nicole turned to watch Jason dozing softly next to her. She decided he was one of the good guys. While others around them had cowered in their seats and resigned simply to wait for whatever fate was to befall them, Jason had tried to save Jeanine. She remembered how he’d said he’d like to be a paramedic someday. How he’d visited his mom on the job and watched those fearless workers bring in people with terrible injuries. Nicole could definitely like a guy like that. He had exhibited a calm air with Jeanine that she hadn’t seen before. And for a moment, she had been a little jealous seeing Jason soothing Jeanine. She smiled and laughed to herself for a moment. Jealous?

  Just then, with the slow descent of the plane, the blanket slid off Nicole’s lap and fell softly to the floor, disturbing her stream of thought. She leaned forward to gather it up and nonchalantly peered into the gap between the seats in front of her. A boy was reading a glossy magazine that contained pages and pages about the theme park Adventure World — the architecture, the landscaping, the rides and the food. The boy kept turning the pages, looking only at the pictures and ignoring the text.

  Then Nicole’s heart froze as she saw a picture of a room with large stone walls lit only by torches.