Empty Bodies Box Set | Books 1-6

by Bohannon, Zach

  “I’ve been staying with my aunt and uncle here in Texas. Now, I’m going home to Alexandria, Virginia. Do you know where that is?” the boy asked.

  Gabriel sighed.

  “No offense, kid. But I’m really tired. Not really in a chatty mood.”

  The little boy shrugged. He adjusted his cap on his head and reached into his bag, pulling out a candy bar.

  One of the flight attendants, a tall and attractive redhead, showed up beside Gabriel.

  “We all buckled in here?” she asked.

  Gabriel nodded.

  “And how about you, little man?” the flight attendant asked, looking over at the boy next to Gabriel. Peeking under the bill of his cap, he gave her a thumbs up.

  The woman smiled and leaned over Gabriel to check the little boy’s seat belt. Her perfume flowed into his nose, smelling like a spring flower and sending a chill through his nerve. He was a happily married man, no doubt, but it was hard to ignore this woman’s beauty.

  “All set, champ,” she said to the boy. “What’s your name?”

  The boy looked up to her, cheeks red, possibly from seeing the beauty in a woman for the first time.

  “Dylan,” the boy said.

  She smiled at him. “Well, Dylan. Go ahead and put that bag all the way under the seat in front of you. You can’t have it out when we take off.”

  The woman gave Dylan a wink, clutching Gabriel’s shoulder before moving to the next row.

  As he looked out the window, Dylan swung his legs back and forth. He hit the back of the seat in front of him a few times, and the man sitting in it looked back to glare at Gabriel, as if the boy were his child. Gabriel ignored the man, turning his head away from Dylan, resting it against his seat back.

  Within twenty minutes, the plane was off the ground and Gabriel was gone to the world, sleeping heavy in his chair.

  The sound of gunfire woke Gabriel abruptly. He shook in his seat and gasped, looking around to make sure that everything was okay.

  “Whoa, you alright, mister?” Dylan asked.

  Gabriel looked over and saw the boy playing a handheld video game. He wasn’t wearing headphones and the gunshots he’d heard came from the tiny soldiers on the screen. He put his palm over his forehead and let the back of his skull hit the chair, closing his eyes.

  Feeling the sudden urge to use the restroom, Gabriel unbuckled his seatbelt and grabbed the seat back in front of him to help himself stand.

  He narrowed his eyebrows as he moved into the aisle, now noticing how many people on the plane were coughing. A few rows back from him, one of the flight attendants was handing a bag to a woman, just in time for her to empty her lunch into it. The redheaded attendant came hurrying by Gabriel and he stopped her.

  “Excuse me,” he said. “What is going on with all these people?”

  “Sir, we are doing our best to accommodate everyone. Please just have a seat and we will be landing shortly.”

  Clearly, the woman was in a panic. Her answer confused Gabriel, but he felt bad for her as she hurried to one of the passengers, throwing up in a bag like the other he had seen.

  The ache in his bladder reminded him why he’d gotten up, and he made his way back to the restroom.

  He went into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. As soon as he got his belt undone and his pants pulled down, he involuntarily began to relieve himself. He let out a sigh as the pain in his bladder went away. The stream flowed for what seemed like forever, and he looked around the bathroom that, maybe, one other person could fit in, as he daydreamed.

  The urine finally stopped its flow, and he shook a few times to make sure that it was all out.

  He felt a different kind of growl in his stomach. His bowels signaled to him that he had more business to take care of. He turned and sat down on the small toilet.

  As soon as he sat down, Gabriel heard a slam and a collective gasp, which caught his attention. When all was quiet, he shook his head and went about his business for the next few minutes.

  “Ma’am? Ma’am, are you alright?”

  Dylan’s hands lay as still on his handheld game device as the character on the tiny screen. He stared down at the friendly and beautiful redheaded flight attendant sprawled across the floor. The sound of the soldier being blown up by a grenade in the video game he had been playing made him jump, and he snapped out of his frozen state.

  Looking around the plane, he noticed many people were standing with confused looks on their faces. Two rows ahead of him, a woman stood over a man, shaking him and speaking his name over and over. To his right, an older man around the age of sixty sat slumped over in his seat. And beyond him, two more people looked similar, their limp bodies resting against the seats in front of them.

  A male flight attendant whose face was blushed with concern was walking down the middle of the plane, attempting to calm everyone.

  When he made it to Dylan’s row, he asked, “Are you okay?”

  Dylan shook, confused and scared. He nodded, but he wasn’t sure if he was okay.

  “Alright, just stay in your seat. Everything is going to be…”

  The man let out a scream and Dylan heard the crunch. He looked down to see the redheaded flight attendant chewing the male flight attendant’s ankle like it was a rawhide.

  Then, the howls, barks, and screams escalated.

  The muffled sounds of heavy artillery and bombs exploding disappeared as Dylan dropped his handheld game.

  Right when he flushed the toilet, Gabriel heard the first scream.

  His eyes got big as he pulled his pants up.

  Then the screams became more frequent.

  Gabriel reached for the handle and opened the door. He crept his head around the door and, just as he did, two people landed right in front of him.

  He looked down to see a female flight attendant, lying flat on her back, screaming as the person on top of her began ripping her throat apart. Her eyes met his. Her helpless eyes.

  Gabriel slammed the door and locked it, letting his body lean against it to keep it shut as the screams continued throughout the plane.

  “What the fuck was that?”

  Chapter 3

  Jessica

  Somewhere in the Smoky Mountains—North Carolina

  “But we reserved three suites, not one suite and two regular rooms,” the young girl said. The frustration in her voice combined with her tone sounded like the voice of a varsity cheerleader, and was overshadowed by the smacking of the gum between her teeth.

  Jessica Davies took a deep breath and gathered herself. The hotel had its share of bad customers. It was a resort for tourists, after all, sitting in the beautiful Appalachian Mountains atop a gorgeous overlook. It reminded her of the movie The Shining, its vastness and secluded location giving the hotel an ominous and haunted feel. Giant chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling of the lobby which was filled with elegant, inviting furniture, and was now full of people, as the hotel was headed into its busy season. With other guests anxious to check in, the last thing she wanted was to deal with a snotty bachelorette and her group of dolled-up and stuck-up-looking friends. She hoped this bitch wouldn’t be her Jack Torrance.

  “I do apologize, Mrs. Stevens,” Jessica said.

  The girl waved her finger at Jessica. “It’s Ms. Brown. I won’t be Mrs. Stevens for another two days and thirteen hours. Now, what are you going to do for me?”

  Jessica’s face turned red as she looked to the computer and confirmed that the reservation had been made under the name Stevens. The embarrassment showed on her pale face with ease. She was an attractive girl, only twenty-nine, with wavy brownish-red hair down the center of her back and big blue eyes. But living near the mountains had made her skin light with most of her time spent either in the hotel or in her room writing poetry. As a result, her face broadcast each of her emotions, much as she hated it in situations like this.

  “As I have said, in addition to comping your rooms, we are going to provide each o
f you ladies with complimentary breakfast in the morning, and we will send two bottles of wine up to your suite shortly.”

  “Three bottles,” the girl said, staring at Jessica as if threatening her, and continuing to flash her teeth through the gum.

  Jessica let out a sigh, showing the hints of her frustration for the first time.

  The girl put her hand out. “Whatever. Just give me the keys.”

  Jessica ran the plastic keys through the machine, coding them to their respective rooms, and handed them to the bachelorette.

  The girl snatched the keys from Jessica’s hand. “Thanks for not totally ruining my bachelorette party. We’ll take that wine in twenty.”

  The girl turned to her friends. “Alright, ladies! Who’s ready to party?”

  The party hollered and cheered all the way to the elevator.

  Jessica put her palms flat on the counter and drew in a large, deep breath. She took both her hands and combed them through her hair to re-center herself before putting a smile on for the older couple who was next in line.

  A woman in her early sixties approached the counter with an elegant smile. Beside her, a man who looked like he was dressed more for the beach than the mountains, wearing a casual button-up shirt with trees on it and a fisherman’s hat, was looking back and watching the party of young girls walk away.

  “I apologize for the wait,” Jessica said.

  The woman shooed her off. “Bless your heart. It’s fine. No one should be treated like that. Right, Walt?”

  The man ignored her, staring at the backs of tight jeans and yoga pants moving to the elevator.

  She hit him on the arm.

  “Okay, okay. Geez, Melissa,” Walt said.

  Melissa rolled her eyes.

  “We are here to check-in. It should be under ‘Kessler’,” Melissa said.

  Jessica looked at the screen, stroking data rapidly into the computer.

  “Perfect. I’ve got you right here,” Jessica said. “I’ll just need the credit card used to reserve the room.”

  Melissa looked to Walt for the card. Again, he was looking toward the elevator as the bachelorette party loaded into it. Melissa grabbed his ear.

  “Ouch,” Walt cried.

  “Give this sweet girl your damn credit card. You’re gonna kill yourself looking at that,” Melissa said. She gave Jessica a wink, who smiled back at them, happy to finally have a friendly customer in front of her.

  Walt handed Jessica the card. She ran it through the computer and handed it back to him, then prepared two plastic key cards, slipped them into a small envelope, and handed it over to Melissa.

  “You’re all set.” Jessica pointed to the elevators. “You’ll just head up those elevators to the 8th floor and your rooms will be down on the right.”

  Melissa reached out her hand and Jessica took it, shaking it gently. “You’re a sweet, beautiful young girl. I wish my son could find a woman like you. Thank you.”

  Jessica chuckled. “Thank you, ma’am. You folks just let me know if you need anything.”

  After the early rush of guests checked in, Jessica stood at the front desk calling each of the new arrivals to make sure they had everything they needed and were enjoying their stay. When she came across the name Stevens—the bachelorette’s soon-to-be last name—on the call sheet, she pushed a gust of air out of her lungs and corrected the name in the computer so that it read Brown. The last thing that she wanted was to call this girl, but knew it was part of her job. She picked up the phone and dialed 8-3-1 to call the room.

  When the phone picked up on the other end of the line, Jessica had to pull the headset away from her ear. The music blasted through the earpiece, and the girls were hollering in the background.

  “Yeah,” the woman on the other end of the line yelled.

  Jessica took a breath. “Hi. This is Jessica from the front desk. I’m just calling to make sure your room is okay and see if there’s anything else we can help you with.”

  Again, Jessica had to pull the phone away from her ear. The girl was shouting something at her friend along the lines of she couldn’t believe that you would let him do that to you.

  “The room is okay, I guess,” the girl said. “Hey, can we get some more towels and cough medicine or something up here? A couple of my friends aren’t feeling well. It’s probably from that dirty lobby or something.”

  The thought of girls in that party suffering brought a smile to Jessica’s face. She only hoped that one of them was the gum-chomping bitch who was about to marry some unfortunate guy.

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Jessica lied. “We will send some right up.”

  “And where is that wine you promised me?” the girl responded. “It’s been a little more than twenty minutes.”

  Some of the smile slipped from Jessica’s face. She knew now that it wasn’t the bachelorette who was sick, only two of her friends. Still, that satisfied Jessica to an extent.

  “I’ll make sure that the wine comes up with the medicine. Anything else?” Jessica asked.

  She heard a dial tone before she could get the last part out.

  Jessica made a few more phone calls to happier guests and decided that she would take the wine, medicine, and towels up to the room. She could have had one of the bellboys take the items up to the room but, as much as she did not want to see the group of snobs again, she did want to get away from the desk and stretch her legs.

  Steve, a newly-graduated college student who was a few years Jessica’s junior, was working the morning shift with her. She walked behind the front desk area where he was grabbing a cup of coffee.

  “I’m gonna go run something up to a guest,” she said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Steve tipped his coffee mug to her and smiled.

  Jessica started for the elevator.

  Before heading to the 8th floor, Jessica used the service elevator to go down to the housekeeping office to grab some fresh towels from the laundry room.

  The door opened and she walked across the hall into the office with the gold Housekeeping plate on the door. The hotel had an early check-in for special parties, and now the housekeepers were cleaning rooms before the three o’clock guests arrived, so the office was empty. Jessica walked over to the large metal sorting table in the middle of the room and removed a small stack of towels.

  Closing the door behind her, she went down the hall to the restaurant’s dry storage area. Scanning the wall of wine bottles in the large pantry, she grabbed one each of the cheapest bottles of merlot, chardonnay, and champagne she could find. Behind her, complimentary-size packs of toothbrushes, toothpastes, and various toiletries and medicines were displayed on two shelves. She picked up a small bottle of cough medicine and walked back to the elevator.

  When the bell of the elevator rang and the display showed the number 8 on the small screen, the doors split open and Jessica stepped out, immediately widening her eyes and letting her jaw drop.

  The doors to most of the rooms were open while guests stood in the hallway shouting and panicking, some of them knelt over, and throwing up all over the carpet. Jessica dropped the cold medicine and the three bottles of wine, the glass shattering and the alcohol becoming permanently matched to the carpet.

  Other people had begun to come out of their rooms, most of them screaming through covered mouths. Nearby, a man looked up from a woman lying on the ground and saw Jessica’s hotel uniform. He stood and ran to her.

  “You have to help me.”

  Jessica was overwhelmed. She saw his mouth move but was in a daze, like a flash grenade had gone off in the room and disoriented her. The man grabbed onto her shoulders and shook her, snapping her out of it.

  “Please, help me.”

  “What happened?” Jessica asked.

  Running his hands through his hair, the man said, “My wife. She began coughing when we got to the room. I thought she was fine. She said she just had a frog in her throat and to give her a minute. Then, she sta
rted dry heaving. I started to bring her into the hallway to get some fresh air, and she just collapsed.”

  “Is she breathing?”

  The man cupped his hands behind his head and turned around. He was mumbling and wouldn’t calm down to answer Jessica’s questions. She walked over to the woman and knelt down next to her.

  She appeared to be in her early forties, an attractive blonde. Jessica saw that the woman’s eyes were rolled in the back of her head. Her chest and stomach were flat, and her arms lay still at her sides. Jessica reached down and grabbed the woman’s left forearm. It was cold, the hand dangling at the wrist. She checked for a pulse.

  “Is she okay?” the man asked.

  “Stand back,” Jessica demanded.

  She leaned over the woman’s face, tilting back the head, and then began to breathe into the woman’s mouth. Jessica blew three deep breaths into the woman’s mouth, and then clasped her hands over the woman’s chest and began compressions.

  For two minutes, Jessica repeated the process, all while the woman’s husband stood muttering behind her. A few other people in the hallway who knew CPR were trying the same procedure on others with similar results.

  Jessica again picked up the woman’s arm and checked for a pulse. When she didn’t feel anything, she set down the arm and placed her ear against the woman’s chest. When she looked back up at the man, she had tears in her eyes.

  “No! Please, God. Jennifer, baby, don’t leave me,” the man cried. He went down to his wife and straddled her, leaning over and running his hands through her hair. Jessica stood and took two steps back, watching the man come to the realization that his wife was gone

  He looked up to Jessica.

  “Please, do something,” he pleaded with her.

  Jessica covered her mouth and continued to cry. She backed away, too overwhelmed by the panicked guests to know what to do next.

  A scream bellowed from one of the rooms. Not the same cry of fear and despair that echoed through the hallway, but a scream of pain and utter terror.