Ghosts on a Plane

by M. L. Bullock

  Sanguis.

  Flicking my ear with my fingers, I rubbed away whatever bug was making that strange noise. It couldn’t have been someone speaking. There was no one close enough to whisper in my ear. I glanced at Bonnie, but she was still staring out the window.

  Sanguis eius exquiritur.

  Now it was my turn to want to jump out of my seat; at least I didn’t scream. I clearly heard a disembodied voice. A strangely familiar voice. Alistair Blake’s voice. I must be nuts. Was going nuts contagious? I looked at Bonnie again.

  What’s wrong with you, Heath? You’re letting this woman’s hysteria take over your mind. Get it together. Obviously, someone is pranking you.

  Feeling aggravated and somewhat confused, I decided to visit the lavatory to wash my face. Before I could, a pretty little girl with braids ran past me with an anxious expression on her face. She immediately began trying to pull open the bathroom door. No way was I getting up right now; she needed to go worse than I did, and the only other lavatory on the plane had a red occupied sign. Hearing the mosquito noise again, I swatted my ear. Fear gripped me out of nowhere. I didn’t know what I was afraid of. I just knew I was afraid.

  Someone was looking at me. Someone was watching me.

  Searching the half-empty seats around me, I didn’t see anyone staring. But on the left, I saw a tall, lanky figure with slicked-back hair. I knew that leering grin. Alistair Blake! I grabbed the seatback in front of me, but he vanished. One minute he was there, and the next, he was gone.

  God, I must be seeing things! What the hell was that?

  And then I heard the buzzing sound again. No, not buzzing. Words.

  Sanguis sanguis sanguis.

  7

  Starr Garcia

  Absently tapping on my iPhone’s screen, I slowly followed Sasha as she scurried down the aisle to the restroom. Good thing nobody got in her way since I was pretty sure the kid would have run them over. Served her right for drinking all that soda. I tried to tell her that junk would give her kidney stones, but kids will be kids, and in the end, I didn’t care enough to stop her. She wasn’t my kid. My kid wouldn’t get near that stuff. No way, no how.

  I believed in treating your body like a temple, except for the occasional screwdriver, light on the vodka, and maybe an energy drink in the mornings when I was on set. That reminded me, I should have received an email from my producer by now. My new album would hit the streets in just six months, and we hadn’t finished a single music video. I knew my idea for the Don’t Freak Me video would cause me problems, but I planned on getting my way even if it meant shelling out my own money. Gray would have agreed with me. If swinging on a wrecking ball worked for Miley, surely I could dance topless on an overpass.

  Naturally, Sasha beat me to the lavatory and couldn’t figure out how to open the door. Dumb brat. She hopped up and down, doing the universally known I-gotta-go gymnastics as she whined my name.

  “Star-rrr! I have to go!” That didn’t incent me to move faster, and if there hadn’t been so many eyes watching, I might have made her wait an extra minute just to teach her a lesson. But people were watching. People were always watching. I’d found that out the hard way when I first became a recording star. Giving her a narrow-eyed stare from behind my stylishly tinted glasses, I flipped up the door handle with a sigh of exasperation. Now I needed some antibacterial gel. I hated touching gross bathroom handles. Without any argument, Gray’s daughter disappeared behind the door as I leaned against the opposite wall, shaking my head and checking my emails.

  I had an overwhelming feeling people were staring at me—straight-up giving me the evil eye. A trickle of anxiety shimmied down my spine. My gum suddenly tasted flat, even though I’d just popped it in my mouth minutes ago. Without looking anyone in the eye, I checked out my fellow passengers to see if there were any familiar paparazzi faces in the crowd.

  Nobody knew about this flight because I’d booked it under one of my fake names, or rather my new agent had done it for me. I’d have to complain about it when I talked to her again. Flying coach was out of the question. It stunk back here, like mothballs or something. It smelled old. Real old. I shivered again and continued my surreptitious scan of the plane. Most of the passengers looked half-asleep or bored, and nobody seemed to recognize me.

  What was going on here? This time last year, I would have been inundated by fans no matter where I went, even on this raggedy-ass airplane. To be fair, this weird crowd didn’t appear to be a good cross-section of my fan base. I saw a plain-faced nun, complete with a black habit and a dingy white wimple, twin boys wearing old-fashioned clothing, and some old guy with slicked-back gray hair and an awful grin on his face.

  Weirdo. I shivered again. I stopped my scan after seeing him. That was enough.

  What did I care about those freaks? I was free now. Free to be me at long last. I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose and tapped on the tiny restroom door. I couldn’t help but smile, thinking about Tygre J’s text.

  This called for a celebration. Maybe I’d break my no-drinking rule and have a glass of something to take the edge off and help me cope with the child.

  “Come on, Sasha,” I growled impatiently. “I’ve got things to do.” Snapping my fingers, I listened for her whining excuse when my phone buzzed in my hand.

  Looking right today, Starr.

  My heart skipped a beat when I read it. Tygre J! How did he know how good I looked? He must have seen a fan pic of me from the airport. This ridiculous wig didn’t fool the people who knew me, and certainly not Tygre. He knew every inch of me.

  Unable to contain a smile, I tapped an answer back but quickly deleted it. I had to be cool. If I hit him back too soon, I’d look like a desperate mess. He knew I dug him after our hookup last January, but he had a lot to lose. So did I, at the time. We had to keep things cool back then, but that was all in the past now. With Gray’s death, I had nothing to lose, I had it all! A beautiful face, a rocking body, a blooming career, and best of all, money. Lots of money. With growing confidence, I sent back a coy answer.

  Representing All That Shimmers.

  Yeah, my All That Shimmers album would be the project that put me over the top. I believed that one hundred percent. Gray had believed in the project, and when Gray Garcia backed you, you had a winner. I had a nagging feeling in my tummy, though. We had to get on those videos now. Before I could shoot off an angry email to my agent, I heard a woman clearing her throat.

  “Is everything okay? She’s been in there a while.” It was the teensy blonde airline hostess with the slightly yellow smile. Geesh, how did I miss that earlier? Yellow teeth are such a turn-off. A fly circled her head and landed on her cheek. She didn’t seem to notice and made no move to swat at it, just stared at me with those chilly blue eyes. Normally I would have told her off, but something about this chick creeped me out. Without taking my eyes off her, I tapped on the door.

  “Sasha? You need to come out.” I waited but heard nothing. Irritated now, I banged on the door. “Sasha Garcia! Get your behind out here now!” I slapped the metal door with the palm of my hand, careful not to break or chip a fingernail. It wouldn’t be worth it.

  We waited, but Sasha didn’t answer. “Maybe she’s hurt or something. I don’t know. Can’t you get in there?” I waved at the door.

  Without moving a muscle in her face, Antoinette asked me in a fake cheerful voice, “Is that what you would like me to do?”

  “If you want it open, you’ll have to open it yourself. She’s not answering me, but she can be difficult at times.” I had every intention of pulling the girl’s hair when she got out of there.

  “Glad to help,” she answered in a voice that sounded deeper than normal, as if she needed to clear her throat. I stepped back as she dipped her head and reached for a silver key in her pocket. I caught a whiff of something horrible, but as soon as I detected it, it was gone. I glanced around the plane to see who, if anyone, had complained about my stepdaughter’s bathroom time,
but again, everyone appeared to be ignoring us. Were there fewer passengers now? Where the hell were those two little boys? And the nun had changed seats and moved closer to us. Her head was down, but I swear I saw the hint of a smile on her face. The creepster had disappeared. We were at least ten people short now. Was there a booze deck on this rig? I became more convinced than ever that there was a secret first class.

  “Here you are, ma’am.” She popped open the door and stepped back with a hand flourish. “I’ll let you check on your daughter.”

  “She’s not my daughter,” I replied a bit louder than I intended. Whatever. It was the truth.

  “She’s not?” For a second, Antoinette sounded like she was underwater. I glanced at her, a shiver climbing up my arm. At least the fly had disappeared now. “My mistake.”

  Swinging the door open, I put my hand on my hip, ready to give this kid a piece of my mind. But she wasn’t there.

  Sasha was gone.

  8

  Gregory Lawless

  “Hey, get this, Captain. Michelle has this friend, a smoking-hot friend.” He grinned like the cat that ate the canary. “I promised Michelle I’d mention her again. I told you about her before.” Desi offered me a piece of chewing gum, which I politely declined.

  “I know what you’re going to say, Desi, and I’m not interested.” He’d been on this kick for the last few months. It seemed to be his life’s mission to “hook me up” if that was the current terminology. I was the first to admit I wasn’t hip. Not at all. And getting set up with any woman Desi recommended would be a bad idea. That was the last thing I wanted.

  “How do you know what I’m going to say, Gregory? I haven’t said it yet.” His cheerful attitude didn’t make me want to hear more. Or explain why I didn’t want to hear more. Only I knew what an A-Number-One-Screw-Up I’d been since Veronica died, and before that, to be honest. What could I possibly offer someone? Skyrocketing debt? Homelessness? And who would ever take Veronica’s place? Who could? Even though she was gone, I still loved her.

  Unwilling to say any of those things to the self-centered jerk beside me, I shrugged as I watched the sky ahead. There was an odd blip on the radar, but I wasn’t seeing anything unusual on any of the other screens. Must be a glitch. And was that condensation on the gas gauge? How was that possible? I had the latest in digital gadgetry. Those gauges were waterproof.

  “Are you seeing this?” I nodded at the screen.

  He hadn’t seen a thing because he kept going with his latest attempt at a fix-up. “Michelle’s friend is gorgeous, man, some kind of professional skier. A water-skier, no less. I haven’t seen her in a bathing suit, but I’d sure like to, I won’t lie. She’s not like the rest of Michelle’s friends, flat-chested, self-involved man-haters who think about nothing but Jane Austen or college. It’s enough to make a guy, well, you know how it is. I tell you, Gregory, this girl is a keeper. She’s nice, too. Real smart. You would be doing yourself a favor, I swear. Honestly, she’s not looking for anything long-term.”

  “Name?” I asked as I tapped on the radar screen again. Probably Katie, Heather, or Haley, I placed a bet with myself. Weren’t those names popular now? No way was she my age. Desi liked his girlfriends on the younger side, although he was now forty.

  “What?” he asked as he pulled up on the throttle to adjust the pitch.

  “What’s her name? Or did you bother to ask while you were staring at her chest?”

  “Oh, sorry, Mr. Sensitive.” He laughed good-naturedly. “For your information, her name is Martee.”

  “Martee?” I snorted as I stared at the screen. “Let me guess, with two e’s?”

  “Yeah, how did you know?”

  “Lucky guess.” I was half-listening to him chatter about Martee’s figure now and not interested in hearing anything else about the busty water-skier with a trendy name who was presumably half my age. Desi sounded half in love with this Martee, only he was too dumb to know it. “If you’re done, do you mind looking at the screen now?”

  “Which one?”

  “That one.” I pointed at the large screen between us on the panel.

  “Okay, what the hell is that?” Immediately he put his headphones on, ready to call the nearest air traffic control to see what we might be flying into. At this point in our flight, it would have to be a tower close to Rachel Island, maybe Townsend. Definitely not Courtney Fields.

  Then I could see it. I didn’t need a screen to show me what lay ahead of us. Lightning popped in the distance—lightning where there should be no lightning. Beyond that was a green cloud, thick and glowing. It reminded me of the old saying, “thick as pea soup.”

  “Control says there’s nothing there,” he said with an amused tone in his voice.

  “Obviously, they’re wrong. I’ll call.” I pulled my headphones up. “Tower, this is Captain Lawless from Flight 1199. We’ve got some strange-looking clouds up here. Anything we should know about?”

  “Flight 1199, this is Townsend. We aren’t seeing anything here, skies are clear. No air traffic. No weather.”

  “Negative, ground. We have eyes on an anomaly. It appears to be some type of cloud or mist, green in color, and it’s moving toward us.”

  Static interfered and I repeated my call. I heard nothing at first, but then the same stale voice came on the line, a voice I didn’t recognize. “We don’t see anything, Captain. You’re clear to continue.”

  I kept my composure as long as I could. My palms were sweating as I stared at the luminescent cloud ahead of us. I wanted to yell at the idiot on the ground, “Hey, dumbass! There’s a green cloud in front of me, and the damn thing is glowing!” But of course, I didn’t. I flipped off the radio. “Pull up an alternate plan, Desi. I don’t want to take this bird through that whatever-that-is if I don’t have to.”

  Suddenly the plane lurched. I flipped the switch on the mic and said in as calming a voice as I could muster, “Ladies and gentlemen, please return to your seats. We’re experiencing a bit of turbulence, but we’ll be leveling out in a few minutes. Please pay attention to your seat belt signs and turn off any electronic devices. Thank you.”

  “Captain?” Antoinette said through the cockpit door. I assumed she was checking on the status of the turbulence. Desi opened the door, and I glanced over my shoulder to acknowledge her. I couldn’t have been more surprised by her appearance. She wasn’t as polished as she had been just twenty minutes ago. Her cap was slightly askew, her smooth hair looked like she’d gone for a run on a windy day, and there were other things off about her, subtle things. She stood strangely, as if she’d broken the heel on her red shoe or twisted her ankle. She flashed a dingy smile at me and said, “We have a situation with one of the passengers.”

  “What kind of situation? Because we have our own situation up here, in case you don’t see that,” I said with a wave of my hand at the windshield.

  “Yes, I do see,” she purred. Without hesitation, she continued, “A girl is missing. She went to the lavatory but didn’t come out.”

  My copilot snorted derisively. “Is this some kind of joke? Kids don’t disappear from lavatories, Antoinette.” His voice sounded strained.

  She didn’t move, so I added, “Follow the protocols, Antoinette. Let’s do a thorough search and look for the child. Maybe she’s hiding. Just follow the protocol and keep me posted. Which passenger is missing, and who is accompanying her?”

  “Sasha and Starr Garcia.”

  Desi said, “Are you serious? The mogul’s kid?”

  “I’m not a music fan,” Antoinette said. Her voice had an odd gurgling sound to it. I thought she would cough, but she didn’t.

  “Please continue to look for her and keep me posted. Offer Mrs. Garcia a drink and private seating if it’s available.”

  “I will do that, Captain. Thank you for your help.”

  She hobbled out of the cockpit, and I expected to breathe in the scent of gardenias again, but I didn’t detect perfume this time.

&
nbsp; No, I didn’t catch any sweet fragrance. Whatever perfume she’d worn earlier had worn off. I didn’t detect any of the previous sweetness. I smelled death.

  9

  Bonnie Overton

  “What’s going on, Heath?” I leaned toward him to peek down the aisle, happy to have something else to focus on besides the possibility that this plane might go down in flames. I knew I should expect turbulence, but that didn’t prepare me for it. Not really.

  “Not sure. I think the girl is missing, the one with the braids. Sasha Garcia, I heard someone say. She’s Gray Garcia’s daughter. Poor kid! He died earlier this week, real sudden, and now she’s left with Starr. That’s the angry chick in the ridiculous outfit. She’s her stepmother. Starr is kind of a big deal in the pop world. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Starr Garcia.”

  “I’ve heard of Cherry Garcia, does that count?” That was my attempt at humor. I told myself I wasn’t flirting.

  He laughed quietly. “No, it doesn’t. Seriously, though. You’ve never heard of Starr Garcia?”

  “Should I have? You seem pretty impressed.”

  He dazzled me with a bright smile and confessed, “Kind of. She might appear to be a train wreck, but she’s one smart businesswoman. Marrying Gray Garcia proves that. He’s as big as Quincy Jones, or he was back in the day. Seeing her on this commercial flight with the rest of us is nothing I would have expected. So yeah, I’m impressed, and you would be too if you watch the VMAs or listened to the radio once in a while.”

  “I listen to the radio,” I said defensively as I eased back into my seat, “but I’m a symphony kind of gal.”