by Katz, Gayle
“From Brie. She doesn’t need it anymore.”
“Ha! And you’re giving it to me?”
“Yeah. Why not? With the new cure, I hope the zombie plague will be coming to an end, but you can never be sure what’s around the bend. For some reason, I have a feeling zombies will always be a part of our world.”
“Maybe. Maybe not, but you’ve helped us get the upper hand to fight against them and all who use them for destructive purposes. Now it’s time for you to go home. You’re already late. Stay safe. You’ll be in our thoughts, always.”
My clone, remaining in the passenger seat so as not to attract any unwanted attention, grabs my hand and smiles.
“Take care of him,” I say, smiling back at her.
“I will. He’s my world.”
“Go,” Damar whispers in my ear. “You don’t want to miss your plane. Jack is waiting for you.”
I start walking into the airport terminal, looking back at Damar and my Jane clone one last time. They look so happy together.
Chapter 16
________________________________________
Once inside and walking quickly to the ticketing counter, I present my passport to the woman behind the counter and, without incident or further questioning, she hands me my boarding pass. That was easy.
“Here you go, Miss.”
“Thank you.”
“Listen, you don’t have much time, Ma’am. Your flight is taking off in about thirty minutes.”
“OK. I’ll hurry.”
“And make sure to go through the express security line. That should save you some time, too.”
“I will.”
Going from a rushed walk to a small jog, I head toward the gates. The security checkpoint isn’t mobbed with travelers, but I head over to the security agent in the express line anyway. Might as well save as much time as possible. I have to get on that plane.
Waiting for a second or two in the security line, the officer waves me forward. “Step into the scanning machine,” he says. “And put your hands on your head.”
As I go through their safety protocol, I watch the operator’s face. It goes from no expression to puzzled. He furrows his brow and calls over one of his colleagues. They talk for a second or two. The first operator shrugs his shoulder and gives the security agent the thumbs up.
I wonder what that was all about.
Getting through security is basically a breeze when you have nothing except a passport and ID. It’s a good thing Damar reminded me to hand over my armaments while we were still in the Jeep. A smile pops on my face when I think of him.
Arriving at the gate, the gate agent checks my boarding pass and waves me through.
“You’re our last passenger. It’s a good thing you made it. We were just about to close the doors and prepare for departure.” She allows me to enter the sky bridge and board the plane.
After finding my seat, I sit down, click my seatbelt, and try to relax. My only focus now is to get back home to Jack and live our lives together forever. That’s the promise we made to each other when we got married just a few years ago. I smile when I think about being in his arms again. I can’t wait.
Once the plane takes off, I settle in for some much needed sleep.
***
Half asleep, I start to perk up when I hear the pilot over the public address system.
“This is the pilot. So far the flight has gone swimmingly. And now, we’re only about… uhhh… another four hours or so out from JFK Airport in New York City. In the meantime, flight attendants will be going up and down the aisles with snacks and drinks.”
“JFK?” I whisper to myself, thinking back to the list of airports on Malik’s hit list. My heart starts beating faster. JFK was the last target. I try to shake off feelings of dread, but they persist. I thought I left this nightmare behind, but what if it followed me? What if this isn’t over?
As the realization sets in, I start to feel uncomfortable, like someone is watching me. Maybe it was just trauma from my whole ordeal, but something really felt off. Going through my thought process, I look all around me, trying to see if someone has eyes on me. Nope. No one that I can see.
Another horrible thought pops into my head as I follow my logical train of thought… how many people did Malik say he cloned? Four, right? Yeah. Four people. I think that’s what he said. OK. There’s me. That’s one. Brie. That’s two. The Professor, obviously. That’s three. And… uhhhh… Who else? A wave of anxiety floods my system. I’m getting that distressing feeling that something is very wrong.
***
My mind starts to churn. Is Malik on the plane with me, too? No. That can’t be. He couldn’t be on the plane. I shot him in the head. I saw him lying on the floor, motionless, with a bullet in his brain. Logic tells me he can’t be alive, but my instincts are telling me something very different.
Maybe Malik cloned himself before I shot him? Maybe I actually shot his clone? And maybe Malik is here on the flight with me? So many questions are rushing through my brain and I don’t have any answers.
If he’s here, I have to find him. I have to stop him. We can’t land in JFK. The authorities need to know what he’s done and what he’s up to now.
Nervous, I unbuckle my seatbelt, stand up, and pretend to go to the bathroom, getting a good look around at all of the passengers on the plane. None of them look familiar. Could he have genetically modified his appearance to look different, like Brie did? He did brag that he could make anyone look like anyone else, so how would I know which one of these people is him? I could pass right by him and never know, until it’s too late.
My thoughts get the best of me and I start to breathe faster and then hyperventilate as I walk back to my seat. Before I get back to my designated seat, I stop and lean on one of the chairs.
“Miss, are you OK? Do you need some help?”
“Yes. Thank you. I don’t have my cell phone with me and I need to make a call. It’s very important.”
“I’m sorry, Miss. We’re up in the air. No phone calls are allowed. It’ll have to wait until we land in New York City. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“No, thank you. Just give me a minute, all right?”
“Sure. Sure. Take your time.”
After walking up and down the aisles, I try to breathe normally again. OK, maybe he’s not actually on this plane? I don’t know where he is and there’s nothing I can do right now anyway, or is there?
***
I have so much nervous energy right now. I can’t sit down. I continue walking up and down the aisles on the plane. With each step, my eyeballs scour the passengers in each row again. Some people are asleep while others are reading magazines, playing on their laptops, and staring out the windows.
On my third pass through the aisle, I spot a man sleeping. His cell phone is sticking out of his right back pocket. I walk past him and, accidentally, bump into him to see just how sound a sleeper he is. He doesn’t budge.
On my next lap around, I drop my boarding pass right before I get to his row. I stoop down to pick it up, looking around to make sure no one is staring, I also slowly yank the phone out of his back pocket. When I stand up, I have both my boarding pass and the phone in my hands. Still asleep, I don’t think the guy felt a thing.
With my prize in hand, I backtrack and run to the bathroom at the back of the plane. Once inside, I lock the door and focus on the phone. What was Chris’s phone number? Dammit! Why won’t my brain work? Just relax, Jane. It’ll come to you. Just relax.
As my fingertips slide over the phone keypad, I start dialing numbers. After I’m satisfied with the number, I push the green call button. I hear the phone ring, but the sound is low and there’s some static on the line. The ringing stops and I hear someone on the line.
“Hello?”
“Chris! Is that you?”
“Hello?”
“Chris, it’s Jane. Can you hear me,” I say, trying to keep my voice low so no one outside of
the bathroom hears me.
“Jane? What’s going on?”
“Something is wrong. I have a bad feeling about what’s going to happen when we land at JFK.” I hear more static on the line. “Chris, did you hear me? Chris?”
Next I hear a random tone on the line and the call drops. I look at the phone and the screen is dead. It’s out of juice. No battery left.
“That’s just great,” I mumble to myself. I open the lavatory door and walk back to return the phone to its rightful owner. I drop it on the floor by his foot and quickly walk away.
Chapter 17
________________________________________
Resigned to the fact that there’s nothing I can do until we land, I keep my anxious feelings in check by staring out of the plane window. All I see are white, puffy clouds beneath us. It’s so peaceful up here. With all the stress on my system, I can feel my eyelids getting heavy. Yeah. A nap would do me well with whatever is to come.
I close my eyes and suddenly hear static in my head. Just like before, my head starts to hurt, but instead of blocking it out, I concentrate on the noise, trying desperately to make sense of it.
“You’re too late,” the scrambled voice says.
I look around to see who’s talking to me. There’s no one. It’s in my head. “Too late? Too late for what?”
“Too late to save them. Too late to save yourself.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Don’t you feel the device in your neck?”
“Wha?”
“There’s nothing you can do about it. Nothing you do will change your destiny.”
Suddenly, I feel a slight tinge of pain resonating from my neck. After a few seconds, it gets worse. It turns into a sharp, stabbing pain that I can’t hide.
I turn to the passenger next to me, grab his hand, and plead for his help. “There’s something in my neck. You have to tell the pilot. There’s… there’s something in my neck.”
The passenger gives me a frightened look, but doesn’t do anything. He’s frozen in his seat.
The pain gets worse and I can feel the pressure building in my neck. And then there’s an explosion. I gasp awake. It’s just the jerk of the cabin as the plane is descending down to land through choppy air. Was that just a dream? Who was I talking to? Myself? Is my brain playing tricks on me?
The plane doesn’t land softly. Everyone on board lurches forward as it bounces off of the runway multiple times before beginning to slow down. Rolling to a complete stop, the plane then slowly taxies to the gate. After a few long minutes, the pilot welcomes the passengers and crew to New York City.
Once the crew opens the door hatch, but before the fasten your seatbelt sign goes out, I get to my feet, anxious to get off the plane so I can continue searching for Malik. He’s got to be here. I just know it. I’ve got to find him before he hurts anyone else. All I have to do is open my eyes and find him. Without any carry on luggage to attend to, I slip past the rest of the passengers in coach and scurry off into first class where I look around again for Malik. Even if he wanted to blend in, his arrogance wouldn’t allow him to sit in coach. No luck. I don’t see him here either. Since the hatch is open, I try to exit the plane when someone pulls me back.
“Miss. We’re still preparing to deplane. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to go back to your seat until we’re ready, OK?”
“No. That’s not OK. I have to get off this plane now. I have to find someone. It’s urgent!”
“I’m sure that someone will still be there once everybody gets off the plane in an orderly fashion, all right?”
“No. No. No. That’s not all right. It’s a matter of life or death,” I say, pushing the female steward to the side. I get around her, dart off of the plane, and continue my search around the gate. Like a woman on a mission, I get in everyone’s face trying to figure out how Malik is hiding himself from me so well. I know he’s here. After a while of walking around the immediate gate area, I start to get tired and lightheaded. The longer I can’t find him, the more agitated I seem to get. My paranoia is getting the best of me.
Standing there, my exhaustion and lack of solid, uninterrupted sleep hit me hard. I did get some sleep on the plane, so I don’t understand why I’m so tired. I feel like I’m going to fall down, so I lean against a nearby wall, still keeping my eyes peeled for anyone who looks suspicious. It’s then that I feel a stabbing pain in my neck and begin to hear a loud ringing in my ears. Am I dreaming again like I was on the plane? I cover my ears with my hands and close my eyes as I slide down the wall to the floor, crying from the pain. I manage to re-open my eyes and I see a cop standing in front of me, talking. He’s quite tall and towers over me. His lips are moving, but I can’t hear or understand what he’s saying. It’s then he pulls out his portable walkie-talkie from his utility belt, talks into it for a minute or so, and then replaces it on his belt.
Next, the cop reaches for my hand, but I can’t even meet him half way. I can’t bare to pull my hands away from my ears as the ringing in my head is getting louder. He stoops down, wraps his arms around me, pulls me back onto my feet, and leans me up against the same wall.
I barely hear him over the ringing in my ears. “Miss. We’re getting help. Stay with me. Everything will be OK.”
Standing there, something inside of my head causes me to look in the direction of a man sitting across the gate with an open briefcase. When I look at him, he’s already staring at me. Why is he staring? Is it because I’m making a scene, or because of some other reason? I look around, desperate to figure out what’s happening. Other people are staring, too, but he’s the only one with a smirk on his face. Is this it? Is he going to kill me? Or, am I part of the plan to infect others, just like the army of Jane clones sent around the globe? JFK is the last airport on Malik’s target list. No. Trying to hold on to my sanity and accept the truth. That’s not possible. Malik is dead along with his evil plans. I shake my head, but the evidence is getting difficult to ignore. If Malik is indeed dead, why am I feeling this way?
Every square inch of my body is in pain. Sweat is pouring off of me. My legs are still rubbery, shaking under my weight. I can feel my body changing. I’m not one of the clones and I won’t succumb to his will. I won’t. I’m stronger than that. I can’t let this happen and do nothing to stop it.
I push myself away from the wall, stumble, and fall against the cop still standing in front of me. As I lean against him, I grab the small pistol from his holster, push him away, turn around, and try to aim at the man who caught my eye.
“She’s got a gun,” someone shouts in the crowd. People scatter and start screaming.
I step closer to the man across the gate. I have to make sure these bullets count. I can’t miss. With the pistol in my right hand, I hold my aching head with my left.
“Isn’t someone going to help me?” he pleads. He stands up and backs away from me. “Someone stop her!”
“You’re the one who needs to be stopped! All the pain and suffering you caused me and everybody else. You don’t deserve anyone’s mercy.”
“What? What are you talking about? I don’t know you.”
I step closer to him and look deep into his eyes. Despite going through the trouble of changing his appearance, his evil eyes betray him. It’s Malik. Without pity, I shoot the man with the briefcase staring back at me. It takes all of my strength to pull the trigger, but I squeeze it. The loud sound of the bullet exploding from the barrel momentarily tamps down the ringing in my ears. I squeeze the trigger again and again, and watch as the man falls to the floor.
He has to be dead now, right? Running over to the briefcase next to the man lying on the floor, I shuffle through papers looking for whatever device he used to activate me and inflict this pain. I can’t turn into a zombie and put an entire city in jeopardy.
An arm touches my back and I jump.
“Ahhh!” I scream.
“It’s too late,” the dying man on the floor whisp
ers, revealing the destroyed remote in pieces in his hand. “You’re the harbinger of change, and change is coming.”
“How do I stop from turning?”
“You can’t,” he says, as his eyes close and his chest stops rising and falling.
“Oh no. No. No. No! Get away from me! Get away!” I repeat, staring at the innocent people standing around me and staring back at me. Turning around to see all the people I’m putting in jeopardy, my eyes scan the immediate area. All of these faces mean nothing to me, that is until I see Jack and Chris rush through the growing crowd. Upon seeing them, my heart beats faster, my blood boils, and my thinking becomes scattered and fragmented. I can’t put them in harm’s way again. Still holding the police officer’s pistol, I bring the barrel of the gun to my head.
“Jane!” Jack shouts, running up to me. “W-What are you doing? Put the gun down!”
“It’s the right thing to do. I can’t stop it, Jack. There’s no way to stop it now. I’m changing. It’s happening. I can feel it.”
Chris and his team are only a step behind Jack. Chris motions for them to set up a perimeter around me, guns aimed. With no less than ten officers surrounding me, guns pointed, I cry out. “You think I want to hurt anyone? That’s the last thing I want to do. Go ahead and shoot me. You’ll be saving the city and doing me a favor!”
“No! Don’t listen to her! Chris! Tell your people to stand down. I can handle this.”
“It’s OK, Jack. Baby, I’m dead no matter what. Whether I kill myself, they kill me, or I turn into one of those monsters, it doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does matter. It matters to me. Don’t do this.”
“Jack, I know you love her, but we can’t let this situation get out of control. If she turns into one of them, we’re risking the lives of everybody here. You know that.”