Pursued

by Lisa Harris

  Their seatmate was leaning against the window, his hands limp at his sides. His neck twisted at an odd angle. She noticed the air marshal badge clipped to his belt. He couldn’t be dead. Could he?

  Nikki touched the man’s shoulder. “Sir … sir, we need to get off the plane. I can help you if you’re hurt.”

  There was no response.

  Balancing with one knee on her seat while reaching around Erika, Nikki turned the man’s shoulder slightly, then felt her breath catch. He was staring straight ahead; his glassy eyes were vacant. Surely he hadn’t died in the crash. She grabbed his hand and felt for his pulse.

  Nothing. No pulse. No breathing.

  The man was dead.

  Erika’s fingers dug into Nikki’s forearm. “I need to get off this plane.”

  Nikki pulled her arm away gently. “It’s going to be okay. Just try and take a deep breath. Everyone’s going to get off.”

  “No … No. You don’t understand. I’ve got to get out of here now.”

  Erika’s hands were shaking. Blood trickled down her forehead and across her cheek from a cut above her eye. Nikki fumbled for a napkin from the seat pocket and handed it to her.

  “Press this against the cut on your head.”

  Erika nodded, then shoved past her toward the congested aisle. Someone sobbed in the background. The smell of smoke hung in the air. A flight attendant was giving directions for the passengers to leave suitcases behind and make their way toward the emergency exit at the back of the plane as quickly as possible.

  Instinct kicked in. She’d have to deal with the emotional impact of the crash later, but for now, her own fear of what could have happened vanished, replaced by what she’d been trained to do in a crisis.

  Nikki took one last look at the man who’d sat two seats from her, knowing there was nothing she could do to help him now. She grabbed her small bag containing her badge and wallet, secured it across her shoulder, then paused. She picked up the silver diamond-studded watch from the seat where Erika must have dropped it during the crash. She looked toward the back exit where the emergency slide had been deployed, but there was no sign of Erika’s red sweater in the crowded aisle. She shoved the watch into her pocket. Once she got off the plane, she’d find Erika to make sure she was okay and give her back her watch.

  A man stood in the middle of the aisle, gripping an oversized carry-on tightly against his chest, blocking traffic.

  One of the flight attendants, with a small gash above her eye, made her way through the crowd in front of him. “Sir … I need you to put your luggage down and walk to the exit.”

  He stared at her for a few seconds as if in a daze, then set the bag in an empty seat and started moving. There was no screaming or shouting from the packed aisle. Just a few quiet sobs as the passengers started again toward the exit.

  Nikki grabbed the attention of the flight attendant as she passed and lowered her voice. “This man who was sitting in my row … he didn’t make it.”

  The flight attendant pressed her hand against her mouth, clearly fighting to keep her emotions in check. She knew as well as Nikki that the last thing they needed was panic to erupt over a dead passenger.

  Nikki touched the young woman’s shoulder. “I’m a police officer. If there’s anything I can do …”

  A look of relief flooded her pale face. “There is something, actually. One of the carts has wedged against the other exit up front. I was just on my way to unblock it but found a woman two rows behind you who’s trapped in her seat belt. I need to find something to cut off her belt.”

  Nikki didn’t miss the fear mingled with determination in the young woman’s eyes. She couldn’t be more than twenty-five, trained to be able to open the door of an airplane in her sleep, while hoping to never experience something like this.

  Nikki looped the strap of her small bag over her head and across her chest while the smell of smoke filled her nostrils. They were running out of time. “Go unblock the exit, then try and find a knife. We’ll get her off the plane.”

  “Thank you.”

  Nikki found the woman sitting in the aisle seat, frantically jerking on her seat belt. A little boy sat on the floor, crying.

  “I can’t get my seat belt off,” the woman said, her voice breaking.

  “Let me help, okay?” Nikki reached out and grasped the young woman’s hand, pulling it gently away from the seat belt before trying to unbuckle it herself. The attendant had been right. The metal clasp wouldn’t budge. “What’s your name?”

  The woman hesitated. “Paula.”

  “Paula, my name’s Nikki. I’m going to help you get off the plane. I just need you to try and calm down.”

  “I’ve been trying, but it’s stuck.” The young woman was still frantically pulling on the buckle. “And my son … I never should have brought him with me.”

  She was crying harder now, her chest heaving with every breath.

  “Paula, I need you to calm down. I’m going to help get you out of here, but it might take a minute. I’m going to make sure your son’s okay. Can you tell me his name?”

  “Caden.”

  Nikki glanced at the young boy clutching one of the airline pillows. He looked to be about three or four years old. There were no outward signs of bruising or injuries from what she could see, but at this point there was no way to be sure.

  “Caden …” Nikki reached across the mother’s lap to try to coax him out of the corner. “How are you doing, bud? I know this is scary, but do you think you could get up?”

  He shook his head.

  Nikki looked back to where the aisle had now cleared of passengers. The smell of smoke was intensifying in the cabin. “Can you tell me if anything hurts?”

  He stopped crying briefly and shook his head.

  “I know this has been scary, but you and your mommy are going to be fine.”

  His lower lip quivered as he nodded.

  Nikki turned to the flight attendant, who’d finally returned with a utility knife.

  “Caden … I’m going to get your mommy out now.”

  Glancing out the window, Nikki caught sight of a fire-rescue truck. Foam was hitting the wing in front of them. If a jet-fuel blaze got out of control …

  Nikki began using the knife to saw against the seat belt. Caden was crying again. Her own head pounded from the smoke and acid smell filling the plane.

  “What can I do?” the flight attendant asked.

  “I’ve almost got it.” Glancing at the exit, Nikki didn’t need to have anyone tell her how urgent it was to get off the plane.

  A second later, the knife snapped through the last threads of the seat belt. “I’ve got it off, Paula. I want you to stand up carefully now. We’re going to get you and your son off the plane.”

  Paula was crying again as she scooped up her son. “Thank you.”

  Nikki rushed toward the exit with them, trying not to let the emotions of being the victim of a crisis—instead of the responder—overcome her as she quickly checked the rows of the aircraft, ensuring all the passengers were able to disembark.

  Outside the plane, rescue crews were setting up beneath dark clouds closing in on them. Lightning struck in the distance. A helicopter hovered over the lineup of ambulances working together to evacuate injured victims. The fuselage was torn open in front of the wings. A row of seats had broken away from the airplane, and a glance at the cockpit confirmed the slim possibility that the pilots could have survived the impact.

  How in the world had this happened? Weather related? Mechanical failure? No one would know for sure until the investigation was completed.

  God, there are so many injured. So many scared and confused, and there’s still the impact to come as families of the passengers begin to show up.

  A covered triage station was already being set up, where colored mats were laid down away from the crash and passengers were being directed to them. Nikki searched each mat she passed for Erika, but couldn’t find her.

&
nbsp; More off-site emergency services drove up. The noise around her pounded against her head like a hammer. Someone was standing off to the side and videotaping the scene with a cell phone as Nikki stumbled over a piece of wreckage.

  A woman wearing a raincoat and a badge approached her. “Ma’am, if you’ll come with me—”

  “It’s okay.” Nikki held up her hand. “I’m fine.” She didn’t care about the rain. Nor did she want any medical attention. She just wanted to find Tyler and go home.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, we have to interview each passenger to ensure that everyone is okay before they leave.”

  Nikki pressed her lips together. The woman might just be doing her job, but all she wanted to do was leave. She forced herself to focus and answer questions while the woman logged her responses into the database. She glanced down at the triage tag the woman gave her and read through the list. “Oriented … disoriented … unconscious … deceased.” She couldn’t think about how this might have ended.

  Someone else escorted her toward the terminal, where yet another woman in uniform took her into one of the VIP lounges that had been set up for the passengers. Rows of comfortable chairs were lined up behind her, next to snacks set out on a long bar. There were flight monitors, a television screen with footage of the crash, newspapers, and an internet workstation, but her mind didn’t want to focus on what was going on around her. She was waiting. Everyone seemed to be waiting. Waiting for family to be escorted in. Waiting for a connecting flight. Waiting for this nightmare to be over.

  She glanced around the room for Erika, wondering how she’d managed to vanish in the middle of a hundred and fifty rattled passengers. Her gaze stopped at the flat-screen TV blaring out the latest news from the crash. A reporter stood frowning at the camera, holding up an umbrella to block the rain.

  Nikki turned away from the screen, trying to ignore the knot in the pit of her stomach as they replayed the footage. She started digging through her purse until she found her phone. She needed to call her family. Needed to let Tyler know she was okay. She pushed the power button. Nothing. She shook off the frustration of a dead battery on top of everything else. She needed to make a plan. She’d find Erika, make sure she was okay, then find Tyler and use his phone to call her family and let them know she was okay.

  Which meant first she needed to find someone in charge. A woman with a ponytail and cat-eye glasses and a uniform was walking through the room.

  “Excuse me.” Nikki grabbed her badge from her bag and held it up. She shouldn’t get involved, but neither could she stop the nagging feeling that something was wrong with Erika.

  “I’m Special Agent Nikki Boyd with the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation. I’m trying to find a woman who was on this flight.”

  The airline representative frowned, tugging on the end of her ponytail. “Is there a problem?”

  “I was a passenger on the flight, actually. And I’m just … worried about her. I haven’t seen her since the crash, and she was pretty upset.”

  The woman hesitated, then glanced down at her tablet. “Okay. What was her name?”

  “Erika. I don’t know her last name, but she sat beside me in row 29—29B.”

  “Just give me a second … Everyone who’s been accounted for after the crash has been logged into our system. We’re checking those names against the flight list now. You said her name was Erika?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry, but no one by that name has been logged into our database yet.” She looked up at Nikki. “Are you sure you have the correct name?”

  “That’s the name she gave me. Could you please check again? She was sitting next to me on the flight. Seat number 29B.”

  “Let me check the flight manifest …”

  Nikki fidgeted with the strap of her bag while the woman scanned through the list.

  “Actually, it doesn’t look as if there was anyone by that name on the flight manifest.”

  “That’s not possible. She sat next to me.” Nikki frowned, the pounding in her temples increasing. “Maybe she gave me a nickname, or her middle name. Please … if you could check again.”

  “I really am sorry, but you must be mistaken.” The woman shook her head and caught Nikki’s gaze. “According to the flight manifest, that seat was empty.”

  3

  12:12 p.m.

  VIP lounge

  According to the flight manifest, that seat was empty.

  The agent’s words replayed through Nikki’s mind. No. It hadn’t been empty. That simply wasn’t possible.

  Nikki stopped herself from grabbing the woman’s tablet out of her hands. Instead she worked to push back the panic. Her head throbbed. She felt lightheaded … confused. No. Not confused. She knew what she’d seen. She’d spoken to Erika and watched her walk off that plane.

  “Can I look at the manifest?” Nikki asked.

  “I’m not sure I’m supposed to—”

  Nikki nodded at her badge, then took the tablet from the young woman’s hands. Airline … flight number … date … airport codes … time. Then the list of names. She scanned through the list of passenger names.

  Nikki Boyd 29C

  Patrick Hughes 29A

  The middle seat was empty.

  Why wasn’t Erika on the flight manifest?

  “There’s a mistake here—”

  “That’s not possible, ma’am. Since 9/11, security is extremely tight.”

  “You’re telling me that it isn’t possible for you—for someone—to have made a mistake?”

  “Flight manifests are checked and rechecked throughout the boarding process, and to miss something like this …” The woman’s gaze narrowed as she took the tablet back and pulled it against her chest. “Listen, you’ve just been through a traumatic situation. A plane crashed. People died.” She let out a sharp breath. “You have to understand that it’s going to take time to sort through the passenger list and ensure we’ve accounted for everyone, but it’s quite possible that she simply hasn’t checked in here on the ground and that 29B wasn’t her assigned seat. If she was actually on the plane—”

  “She was where she was supposed to be. She mentioned how she hated middle seats.”

  No. There was no question in Nikki’s mind that Erika had been on that flight and in her seat. There had to be a simple explanation, because Erika wasn’t a figment of her imagination. She knew that much was true.

  “Is there someone else I could speak to?” Nikki asked. “A supervisor perhaps?”

  “Yes, but maybe I could make a suggestion?” The woman hugged her tablet tighter against her chest. “From my limited medical training, I know that even a mild concussion can cause memory loss, and on top of that, there are often symptoms that show up later that could need to be treated. You’ve been through a frightening ordeal—along with everyone in this room—and we’ve been encouraged to make sure that everyone gets checked out if they have the slightest concern.”

  Nikki frowned. So the woman didn’t believe her. “I don’t have any medical concerns, and your manifest is wrong. She was on that flight.”

  “Nikki!”

  She turned around at the sound of her name. Tyler walked toward her in a black-collared shirt, a pair of jeans, and a lightweight military-type jacket. She took in his short haircut and those familiar brown eyes that took her breath away. A wave of relief washed through her.

  “I’m sorry.” She turned back to the representative, shoving her worries of Erika aside for the moment. “I’ve got to go.”

  The chaotic scene around her faded as Nikki ran toward Tyler.

  “Please tell me you’re okay,” he said, pulling her into his arms.

  “I am now,” she said, leaning back to study Tyler’s face. His gaze intensified with traces of worry as he looked down at her. There was a hint of a shadow across his jawline, and worry lines marked his forehead; but still he exuded that ever-present strength she’d come to rely on.

  She leaned into him and felt
his breath against her hair as she inhaled the familiar scent of his cologne and felt the warmth of his arms around her shoulders. For a moment, it was as if he’d never left. No long months apart. No worries over the direction of their relationship once he returned. And for a brief moment, no final moments of panic from the plane crash. Because all she wanted to do was push away the last few weeks and minutes and be completely in this moment where she felt safe and protected.

  “You’re shaking,” he said, pulling her tighter against his chest.

  She hadn’t realized she was still trembling. Or, for that matter, stopped to realize how close she’d come to dying today.

  He reached down and cupped her face with his hands, then searched her gaze as if he were trying to make sure she was really standing in front of him. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  She touched her shoulder. “Just a couple scratches and a bruise or two.”

  “I’m so sorry you were on that flight.”

  She managed a laugh, feeling the need to lighten the moment between them. “It’s funny, in a way. Here I’ve worried about you for the last few months while you were in Liberia, and I’m the one on the flight that crashed. But really … I’m okay.”

  “I just …” Tyler rubbed his fingers down his chin. “I watched the video someone took of the crash, Nikki. I can’t even imagine how terrifying that had to have been.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment as flashes of the crash replayed through her mind. The sound of the explosion and the smell of smoke. The terror of free-falling, and then the lingering silence before the crash.

  “And on top of that, you’re wet.” He grabbed a strand of her blonde hair and tugged on it gently.

  “It was drizzling when I got off the plane.”

  He took a step back, took off his jacket, and slipped it around her shoulders. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared. I’d checked to see if you were going to be on time and saw your flight was delayed. I didn’t think anything about it until I heard them talking about the crash on the news, and when I checked my phone to see what had happened … They kept playing the video over and over, and then I realized they were talking about your flight.”