Ghosts on a Plane

by M. L. Bullock

  Then came the voices. I heard voices from the cabin. Many voices, all speaking that same horrible phrase: “Sanguis eius exquiritur.”

  Leaning my head into the open hole, I called down to Heath. I had to know if he’d made it. If he was still with me.

  “Heath! Are you there?”

  “Yes, it’s dark as hell down here.”

  “Something is happening up here!”

  Then the curtains open and I could see the cabin, a full cabin. I saw a Victorian couple dressed in black, with whiter skin than I’d ever seen. They were sitting in the seats nearest me, and their black eyes watched me. I screamed, “Heath! Hurry!”

  I couldn’t take my eyes off the ghastly sight. There were three soldiers, from the First World War as near as I could tell. They had horrific wounds, and blood was crusted on their clothes and gray skin. They watched, they waited. There were others too, but my attention was now on the man closest to me. He was wearing a rotten green kilt and a grungy gray shirt. He fell to his knees and growled at me. His face was the picture of hatred as he said in a gurgling voice, “Blood is required. It’s always been required.”

  Before I could move, his bony hand grabbed my ankle, and he began to pull me away from the hatch. With both hands, I grabbed the doorframe and screamed.

  20

  Heath Blake

  Bonnie’s screams set my heart on fire. It was now or never. Luckily for me, my two wooden crates were near the door. Unfortunately, the ghost of my great-uncle planted himself between me and the cargo. My mind raced. What would I do now?

  Uncle Alistair had been tall, and he looked even taller in death. And thinner. And more menacing. I could hear rain pounding against the hull of the plane. We were in the cloud now. Bonnie screamed again, and I wanted nothing more than to climb back up that ladder and save her from whatever horror she faced.

  “Bonnie!”

  Uncle Alistair paced back and forth, his devilish eyes never leaving mine. “You knew, you always knew. I told you, nephew. I told you. Now you must do what you have to.” He took a silver knife from his jacket pocket and held it out to me. I stared at his pale blue hand, noting the horrible yellowed fingernails. “Do what you have to do. We must have her blood, innocent blood.”

  “I’m not going to kill for you! Ever!”

  “Oh, but you already have. Or have you forgotten that first time?”

  Slinging my arm through the cargo net, I froze, the hair creeping up on the back of my neck. “You’re a liar!”

  With a smile, he stared down his long narrow nose at me. “Come now. You remember, and you have it in you. Why else would I have chosen you, you dull-witted boy?”

  “In the name of…”

  “You think you can command me? You’re as much a killer as I ever was! You remember, you know the truth.” With a deadly stare, he tossed the knife up and caught it between his fingers. Again he tried to give it to me. I said nothing. I eyed the red button, just to the right of my great-uncle. If I kicked hard, I could reach it and the hold would open, but the stones were heavy and held in place by a net. Of course, I’d paid for extra care, hadn’t I? The crates wouldn’t be sucked out like flimsy bags. The net had to be removed, and I needed time to think about how I would do that. Except I didn’t have time.

  “You lie! You were always a liar!”

  He clucked his black tongue. “It was you who forced her head under the water. You held her there until the bubbles foamed up and the water stole her breath. It was like drowning a kitten in a bucket. Those were your hands, dear boy. Your hands, willing to kill for what you wanted. You can’t go back. You can’t take it back. You knew this day would come. It’s your turn now. Shed the blood, seal the deal.”

  Images filled my mind, images I never wanted to see. They couldn’t be true!

  I was standing in the cold waters of the lake, and my ankles were like ice. It was the day Gloria died. We’d argued, and I was so angry—angry that she knew my secret, that she had seen me. I’d stalked back to the shoreline and found her sitting on an old stump staring at the water. When she was angry with me, which was often, she’d sit with her arms crossed, and there she was. I saw myself grabbing her by the back of her hair and dragging her to the water. The sand was light brown, littered with shells, and wet. The water was so cold. My sister’s screams assaulted my ears, so loud. She was begging me to stop, crying, calling my name.

  “No, that never happened! Never! You liar!” I screamed, my hair ruffling around me as an unnatural wind began to blow through the cargo area. Uncle Alistair laughed at my pain. Tears blurred my vision, and Bonnie screamed in the compartment above me. “That never happened!” I shouted again, unable to stop the images from rolling through my mind. It was an evil, unwanted vision but not a memory. It couldn’t be!

  I closed my eyes, but it didn’t help. I couldn’t close my ears, and I heard everything, every splash of her hands, every gasp for air, I even heard myself laughing as she drowned. “Gloria!” I screamed at the evil entity before me. He chuckled with silent laughter and tossed the knife up again.

  This wasn’t real. That didn’t happen. I would know if it happened. I would! I would remember!

  “Take the knife, Heath Blake. It’s in your blood. You have to do it. Go seal the deal. You have nothing to lose now, nothing at all. Go now. She’s up there, waiting for you. Blood is required.”

  “No! I won’t!” I screamed back at him.

  He remained still, his hand stretching toward me, the silver knife glinting in the half-light. And then the compartment door began to open. I didn’t touch it, but it was opening nonetheless.

  “Then you’ll die. I’ll take your blood.”

  Panicking, I wrapped myself tighter in the cargo net. Why had I come down here? Why had I thought I could defeat him? It wasn’t true! I hadn’t done that! I hadn’t murdered my sister! I would know! I would remember! Gloria!

  And then she was there. She stood by the precious Blake cargo, staring at the crates. Uncle Alistair saw her too. He bent over and poked his black tongue out at her, but she didn’t flinch. He waved the knife at me, threatening her, promising her he would kill me. He would have blood—my blood.

  Regret washed over me as the wind blew hard. Luggage began falling out of the cargo compartment, falling around Uncle Alistair but never striking him. I was battered by suitcases but held on for dear life. Bonnie screamed my name and I called back, unsure whether she heard me. I didn’t know how much longer I could hang on. My arms burned, and the cargo wouldn’t stop falling.

  But I deserved to die, didn’t I? Had I killed my sister, the only person I ever loved? Could I be so full of rage? Maybe I should let go of the net and end it all. Then the captain could land the plane, and Bonnie would be okay. I supposed there were worse ways to die than falling out of a plane. That was what was required. My blood was required. That’s what I would do. I slipped one arm out of the net. All I had to do was release the other.

  “So be it,” I said. But I felt Gloria’s hand in mine. Her soft, cool hand. Uncle Alistair growled and waved the knife at me. He was so close now I could smell his rotting skin and foul breath, feel his rage. He raised the knife, and I closed my eyes and prepared for the blow. At least I would be with Gloria, maybe, if that was allowed. In that second, while I waited, I felt her love wash over me. She still loved me.

  And then I saw the truth. I hadn’t killed her. It had been him. It had been Uncle Alistair. He’d followed me down to the lake and waited. He had dragged her to the water’s edge and forced her face into the lake. I wept as I saw it all, felt her sorrow and fear. I knew the truth now. I hadn’t done it. I hadn’t killed my sister! It had been him!

  With new strength, I grabbed the knife, and in one motion, sliced the net that held the cargo in place. I gave a vicious backward kick, forced the crates off the plane, and watched them fall to the ocean below.

  Uncle Alistair threw himself on me and began to claw my back, his nails like razors. They tore
open my flesh, and I let out an agonized scream. As I twisted to get away, he ripped my chest and arms, laughing as he began to lick my flesh with his black tongue. I felt the blood pour from all over as he cackled with delight. Then Gloria was there, standing by my head. I wrenched myself out from under Uncle Alistair, and she raised her hand and placed her open palm on his head.

  He screeched profanities at her, but she leaned forward and shouted at him, “Blood is no longer required.”

  With both feet, I kicked him out of the plane.

  21

  Bonnie Overton

  The fog-covered tarmac swarmed with emergency vehicles. I could see their dull lights and hear the muffled sounds of sirens echoing through the night. I helped Heath off the plane as best I could. He was a bloody mess, but he’d saved us. I was limping, sure that thing had twisted my ankle nearly off. Thankfully, EMTs raced up the stairs to help us both down. Before they whisked him away on a gurney, our eyes locked, and he reached for my hand.

  “You’re going to be okay, Heath.”

  “Come with me,” he insisted as he tried to sit up on the stretcher. He yelped in pain as the EMT tried to force him back down. The man scolded Heath, but he didn’t listen.

  “I have to see my sister Amy. She’s here somewhere,” I said, waving at the fog. “I’ll come to the hospital, I promise.”

  “Come with me, Bonnie. Please. What if it’s not over?”

  I kissed his bloody forehead and whispered to him, “It’s over. You did it, Heath. Those stones are at the bottom of the ocean. Rest now. I will be there soon.”

  Without another word, the emergency workers had Heath loaded, and the van doors shut despite his protests. In a matter of seconds, he was gone, and I wondered if I’d done the right thing. Should I have gone with him?

  He’d risked his life to save mine, but I couldn’t leave without seeing Amy. She’d be so worried about me.

  Another stretcher passed me, and I could tell by his sleeve that the man under the blanket was Captain Lawless. Jogging beside the stretcher, I reached for his hand. It felt warm and sticky with blood and God knew what else. His eyes met mine.

  “Hey,” the captain whispered. “You all right?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. What about you?”

  “Excellent,” he joked with a pained grimace.

  I didn’t know what else to say to him. What did you say to a person who had battled the dead with you? “Thank you, Captain. I can never repay you for what you did. We’re alive because of you.”

  “I didn’t do anything. If you and Heath hadn’t done what you did, that ghost in the cockpit would have killed me. It disappeared as soon as those stones left the plane. I’m alive because of you.”

  “Is there something I can do for you? Someone I can call?”

  “No, I’m fine. Wait, there is something you can do for me.”

  I held his hand tighter now. “What’s that?”

  “Take the bus next time,” he joked with a big white smile. Nodding, I watched them push him into the van and close the doors. The van disappeared into the fog, the lights shone briefly, and then I could see nothing else.

  “Do you need medical care, ma’am?” an EMT asked me.

  “No, I’m all right.” I accepted a blanket someone tossed around my shoulders. Pulling it tight, I stared at the covered body of the brave pilot as it disappeared from my view.

  “This must be yours,” someone said as he hurried off into the fog.

  I felt cold metal and looked down to see the tiny airplane—my airplane—in my hand.

  “Bonnie?” I heard Amy’s sweet voice echoing through the fog near me. “Bonnie Jean?”

  I looked up from the toy. “Amy?” I called back. “Where are you?” For a second, I thought I saw a little girl in shorts and a halter top. But then the fog parted, and I could see it wasn’t the ghost girl, it was my sister.

  She threw her arms around me and hugged me with her beach-ball-sized stomach between us. We wept as we held one another. I couldn’t believe I’d made it to her. I was never leaving the ground again. Never leaving Amy again.

  “I didn’t miss the baby, then.”

  “Obviously not. No, it was a false alarm. Don’t kill me, Bonnie,” she joked, oblivious to the hell I’d endured. “I’m so happy you’re here. I’ve been so worried about how you were. I can’t believe you came, and when I heard there had been an electrical failure and the plane was lost, I just couldn’t think about it.” She hugged me tighter, and I hugged her back. Tears flooded my eyes, and I didn’t want to let her go.

  “Come on, sis. Let’s go get you some coffee. Dan’s just finishing his shift at the hospital, so you’ll see him soon. I’ve got the car in front of the terminal.”

  “That sounds perfect.”

  With her arm around me, Amy led me through the fog toward the terminal. We’d almost made it to the door when I heard a voice behind me. “Miss Overton. You forgot something.”

  I froze. I knew that voice. I wouldn’t have turned around, but Amy did first. I couldn’t let her face Antoinette alone. The nightmare woman was holding my broken phone. I couldn’t believe the transformation. Antoinette had regained her beauty. Her perfect French twist hairstyle was smooth and tight. Her red lipstick was immaculate, and her makeup flattered her features. Amy stared at me as I stared at Antoinette. I couldn’t move, and Amy accepted the phone and watched me with concern in her brown eyes. As quickly as Antoinette had appeared, she left us. I snatched the phone from Amy and threw it back into the fog, where it landed with a crash. No way was I accepting anything from Antoinette. Nothing.

  “Come on, Amy. We have to go now.”

  “I don’t understand. Who was that woman?”

  “We have to go. I promise I’ll tell you everything, but not now. Please, can we go?”

  “Of course, sis.”

  It wasn’t to be. A man in a black suit approached me holding out his badge. “Miss Overton, if we could have a minute of your time. I’m Agent Davis, the investigator looking for Starr and Sasha Garcia. I’d like to interview you about what took place on your flight. The facts as I’ve gathered so far aren’t adding up.”

  “My sister needs to rest, Agent Davis. I live at 1314 Cotton Lane if you’d like to visit us later. Preferably tomorrow.”

  “Please, I know you’ve been through so much, but the sooner I can interview you, the better. You’d be surprised at how much you can forget in just twenty-four hours. Please, if you have a moment.”

  I hesitated because I wanted to get out of this fog. If Antoinette was still walking around out here, I didn’t want to be anywhere near this place. Why was she still here? I had to get to Heath! I had a growing suspicion this might not be over yet. I hadn’t given any thought to what I would say. Who would believe a swarm of ghosts had invaded Flight 1199?

  “Please, Agent Davis. I’ll be happy to talk to you, but I just want to go home. I’m not going anywhere. In fact, I’m never leaving Rachel Island again.”

  Amy hugged me as the agent said, “I’ll be there in a couple of hours. I have the address now.”

  “That’s fine,” Amy answered, and without another word, we left him behind and headed into the terminal.

  The place hadn’t changed much. It was small compared to the one in Courtney Fields. There was one counter that all airlines shared, and the baggage area was an open door with locals tossing in suitcases. I grabbed mine and followed Amy, who insisted on holding my hand the whole time. I didn’t argue with her. I felt numb all over, and I was cold and hungry.

  “I need to go to the hospital to see Heath, sis.”

  “After you get some rest. And don’t forget the investigator is coming. I’ll make you something to eat, and we can call to check on him.”

  I tossed the suitcase into the trunk and let Amy drive us home.

  Home. Mom and Dad’s home. Amy’s home, and now again, my home. I wasn’t joking, I was never leaving the island. I knew that deep in my bones.


  I couldn’t believe I’d made it here. The drive would take us about ten minutes, but it was a long stretch of boring road, and I welcomed it. As we left the airport behind us, the fog vanished, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I remembered the flat road and the ocean crashing not far away. I stared at the water, happy Amy wasn’t peppering me with questions.

  Five minutes into the ride, the car slowed and came to a stop on the road. I glanced at Amy, concerned that she was having more contractions.

  She wasn’t.

  Her eyes were focused on the road ahead of us.

  “Amy?” I stared at the roadway and gasped. A luminous green cloud hovered about a hundred feet away. Lights flashed inside of it and illuminated the figures hidden in the evil mist. I got out of the car with a sob. “Oh, God! We have to go back!” I headed back to the car but stopped in my tracks.

  “Bonnie? What are you doing? Get back in the car. We can go around this, whatever this is. Are there people in there? I’ve never seen glowing fog before.”

  My heart fell at seeing another green cloud blocking the road behind us. We were surrounded, and there was no going back. “Get in the car, Amy! Get in the car now!”

  She did as I asked and I followed her, leaning inside the car. “I love you, Amy. I always have, and I always will. I promised Mom I would take care of you. That’s what I’m doing. Don’t follow me.”

  “Wait!” Amy suddenly began to cry. I knew she was confused and scared. The hair was standing up all over my body, and I could see the hair on her arms had risen too. The evil had drawn close. “What are you doing? I don’t understand.”