Heaven's Eyes

by Jason A Anderson

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t get away sooner,” Shannon said as she reached him.

  Jake smiled and said, “Not a problem. You missed the boring stuff, and the food. If you’re still hungry, I can have something brought out.” He motioned to one of the myriad of servers bussing the nearby tables.

  Shaking her head, Shannon replied, “No, dinner was one of the reasons I’m late.”

  Jake nodded and watched her closely as she reached out and touched the black and silver star hanging around his neck. He had foregone the traditional tuxedo shirt and bowtie for a white collarless shirt, accentuated by the necklace.

  “What’s it made out of?” she asked, peering at the small silver and black rings.

  “A friend of mine makes them out of chainmail links,” he explained, holding it up for her to look at and indicating it wasn’t as fragile as it appeared.

  “He’s very talented. I didn’t know you could make jewelry with only colored links.”

  “I’ll pass along the compliment.”

  Shannon smiled, then turned her attention to the room. “Is it a good turnout?” she asked.

  Sensing that she wanted him to lead the conversation, Jake answered, “This room can hold several hundred people. Tonight, we have over fifty guests, but not quite a hundred.”

  “Are you expecting more to show up?”

  “Not really,” he replied. “This is probably where we’ll start seeing the number begin to dwindle. Only the diehards will hang on for any real elbow rubbing for very long.”

  Shannon’s attention drifted over to where Chaz Black, sporting a conservative black tuxedo, his hair down, and dark sunglasses, stood near one of the main tables. He was engrossed in a conversation with an elderly woman in pearls and a yellow dress, with a drape about as white as her hair.

  “He seems to be doing all right.”

  Jake nodded. “It’s surprising, actually. I thought that the ‘frosty hairs’ would be the hardest sell on this project. But it turns out that Chaz Black has this... charisma; people seem to gravitate to him. After that, he wins them over to his way of thinking and that’s it.”

  “Speaking of winning people over,” Shannon said, turning back to Jake, “I’m surprised that with all the problems with... well... the past, you’d get involved in something like this again.”

  “By ‘the past’ do you mean Nightmare Manor?” Jake asked, trying hard not to sound put off by her question.

  Before she could respond, one of Shadow Valley’s city council members interrupted them, offering Jake his compliments on a successful event. Jake accepted the elderly gentleman’s handshake and comments with a smile and condolences about the man’s wife, who had recently passed away.

  Shannon accepted his compliment on her dress with a smile and nod, then took Jake by the hand and said, “Come on.”

  As the orchestra segued into a comfortable waltz, Shannon lebeen ????????????? since her arrival, Jake noticed as they swayed to the music.

  “Mmm... I missed this.”

  Her revelation caused Jake to miss a beat and Shannon’s foot came down hard on his.

  “Oh, sorry!”

  Jake bit back a grimace and forced a smile.

  “S’Ok.”

  Shannon reached up and brushed her hand through his hair, combing it with her fingers, lightning chills shot up from his heels to his scalp and down again.

  “Got rid of the Heavy Metal locks,” she remarked without hiding her approval. “I like it.”

  “So, what have you been doing since graduating?” Jake asked.

  Shannon sighed and traced the seam in his lapel before replying. “Well, it took longer to graduate than it would have because I had to cut back on my class load once I had Damon.”

  “That makes sense.”

  Her body felt firm, yet supple, beneath his hand at her waist.

  “But once I got through my undergrad, Professor Stanton helped me get into the graduate program, which is what I’m doing now. Well, not right now. Damon starts school again in a few weeks, so I took this semester off to help him get ready.”

  “Wow, is he that old already? Time sure gets away from you.”

  “I know. I can hardly believe it myself.”

  An awkward silence fell between them, but Shannon didn’t let it linger. “Are you going to take up the school’s offer to go back?”

  “Not sure. I haven’t thought much about it,” he lied. He had thought about it, a lot. But now, weeks after getting his reinstatement notice, he still didn’t know what he was going to do.

  With a determined glint in her eye, Shannon plunged on. “I think you should consider it.”

  “Wait, how did you know about that?” Jake asked. He felt a little put-off about it.

  Trying to play down her involvement, Shannon shrugged and replied, “The school contacted me about their decision to see if I had any argument about it. I told them that they had my complete support.” She paused and looked into his eyes. “It was the least I could do, since I got you kicked out in the first place. ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t cover how bad I feel about that.”

  Before he could say anything further, a firm tap on his shoulder interrupted their conversation.

  Jake turned to find Chaz Black standing behind him, folding his sunglasses into his jacket pocket.

  “May I cut in?” the rock star requested.

  Trying to regain some of his cool, Jake nodded and held Shannon’s hand out to the taller man.

  Shannon tried to calm the sudden fluttering in her stomach. She didn’t know this man from a stranger on the street, but she knew his music. Jake had listed it as one of his favorites even back when they dated, and she’d listened to it in an attempt to become familiar with his tastes. Her final take on it was uncomplimentary at best. However, she couldn’t deny that the man’s charisma saturated the music. Maybe that’s what sent her heartbeat racing as he guided her around the dance floor. Despite his large stature, he moved with the grace of an accomplished dancer and led with a firmness that Shannon had experienced on merely the rarest of occasions.

  “You are, by far, the most beautiful creature in this room,” Chaz said to her.

  Shannon smiled back, hoping that it didn’t convey too much, and said, “I’d hardly refer to myself as a ‘creature’.”

  An easy smile touched Chaz’s lips.

  “But thanks for the compliment.”

  “You’re welcome. I didn’t see you at the dinner earlier. Fashionably late?” Chaz asked.

  Moving as gracefully as she could, despite how much the man threw her emotions off-balance, Shannon replied, “Jake asked me to come and this was the soonest I could get here. I have a little boy...”

  “Ah, you’re a young mother. That explains the glow, then.” It sounded like a compliment, but Shannon couldn’t quite be sure. It also sounded like he was teasing her.

  “Yeah, I guess,” she stammered.

  They danced on for a few moments, then Chaz said in his deep voice, “What would you say to me sweeping you away from all this? I have a car waiting outside and champagne chilling in my room at the Excelsior. We could sip champagne from my balcony, then feel the warmth of my silk sheets.”

  Startled at his thinly veiled suggestion, Shannon found herself speechless. Luckily, her limbs still worked and she didn’t stumble and trip them both up in front of everyone.

  Relief flooded through her a moment later as the song came to a close. Chaz held her close to him a touch longer than necessary, his fierce gaze drilling into hers.

  Shannon managed to find the strength from deep within to take a step back and he immediately released her. “I have to get back to my date. Thank you for the dance.” She hoped her voice sounded stronger than she felt as she gave him a quick curtsey, then hurried a
cross the dance floor to where Jake stood beside the miniature of the proposed Terror-Copia theme park.

  Jake watched her approach and asked as she arrived, “Are you alright? You look a little flushed.” The concern in his voice soothed her jangled nerves.

  Fanning herself with her hand, Shannon nodded. “I’m just a little winded. I haven’t been dancing in a while.”

  “Let me get you something,” Jake offered and raised his hand to attract the attention of a server passing nearby. The neat and trimmed young man crossed over to them without hesitation.

  “Just punch, please,” Shannon asked, averting her eyes from Jake’s by admiring the diorama. It spanned the length and width of a large banquet table and its builder had spared little on the details. Even the park rides that still existed - but had not been renamed or redesigned yet - were present: fictional titles like “Rabid Mouse” or “Black Widow” decorated small signs beside each one. “This is awesome.”

  “It better be. It cost enough, but I think it’s justified the expense by giving not only the development and planning commission something to help them understand the project, but it’ll go far to helping raise more investment capital if it comes to that.”

  Shannon nodded, thankful that Jake hadn’t noticed how much Chaz had affected her.

  The server returned with a tray of drinks. Jake took one of the clear glasses of bright pink punch and handed it to Shannon, then took a glass of cola for himself.

  “So,” he asked once the server had moved on, “what do think of Chaz?”

  Hiding her expression behind a sip of punch, Shannon replied, “Interesting, but not my type.”

  Jake smiled and seemed content to leave it at that.

  Nick James peeled himself away from one of the nearby clusters of patrons and approached them.

  “From what I’ve been gleaning from the conversations around the room, this has been a resounding success,” he said.

  “Thanks, Nick,” Jake agreed and held up his glass. “Here’s to a rousingly successful future.”

  The three of them toasted to Terror-Copia.

  As she scanned the miniature display, a thought occurred to Shannon. “Don’t take this wrong, but it seems odd that after what happened before, you’d be getting back into the horror/amusement business.”

  Jake shrugged. “I saw a potential moneymaking idea and ran with it. What happened at Nightmare Manor was tragic, but I refuse to be a slave to my fears or failures.”

  “So, you consider Nightmare Manor a failure?” she clarified.

  Wiping his hand across his lips, Jake took the time to think about her question. When he replied, his voice carried a contemplative tone. “There were so many things that went wrong with Nightmare Manor, it’s easy to forget the ones that went right. Trent and Ron and I achieved something that the local businesses said couldn’t be done. We ran a wildly successful haunted house. That’s something that needs to be remembered. What happened there wasn’t because we did anything wrong. We tried to do everything we could to keep everyone that went through the place safe.”

  Peering at him, Shannon said, “What about when people say the horror genre provides a breeding ground for that kind of disaster?”

  Again, Jake paused to ponder her question.

  “Between us, I’ve wondered that myself. But I can’t help thinking that people prone to sociopathic behavior would indulge it, whether or not they came to a haunted house,” he gestured at the diorama before them, “or Terror-Copia. If I believed otherwise, I don’t think I’d be in this business.”

  Part of Shannon didn’t agree with him, but she respected the venue and decided to leave the topic for another time.

  “That reminds me,” Jake said. “If you’re going to be in town, the museum is launching a new exhibit at the county Centennial in a few days: Sci-Fi Through the Ages. I’ve seen a few of the displays and it’s gonna be incredible. You should come. Chaz is contributing a sculpture he built inspired by the Alien films. Very creepy, but cool, too.”

  The invitation caught Shannon by surprise. “Um, I haven’t thought that far ahead. In a couple weeks, I’ll be hip-deep getting Damon adjusted to school. That’s been consuming my thoughts. This trip was very spur-of-the-moment, as it is.”

  Visibly deflated, Jake said, “Oh, okay. That’s understandable.”

  Without warning, Shannon found herself not wanting to distance herself from Jake by closing the proverbial door on the offer, so she said, “But, I may be able to make the time. I’m sure Damon would enjoy it, too.”

  This brought a smile to Jake’s face, which quickened Shannon’s pulse in a way that Chaz Black’s had not.

  “Excellent,” Jake agreed.

  Warmth poured through Shannon and she felt her cheeks redden a touch, but this time didn’t care. It felt exhilarating to see him smile at her that way, reminding her of younger days when life was good, before the pain and heartache. Yes, she would definitely make the time.

  Chapter 21

  “Thunder Crash”

  A crash of thunder caused flight 171 to shudder from the concussion. All of the eighty-nine passengers in the small commuter jet felt the impact of the storm raging around them. Parents tried to comfort their alarmed children, while looking to the flight attendants for support. Flight attendants tried to help the overwhelmed parents with supportive words and attentiveness to the fears of the children.

  The two men flying the small regional jet struggled with the controls, as what started out as a small storm grew to a raging fury. By the time the men had determined their situation had escalated beyond their initial assessment, it was far too late.

  “I thought you said this was a small thunder storm?” the copilot demanded as he fought the control stick.

  “It was!” said the captain.

  The air outside crackled with energy and the deep clouds streaked dark blue and purple all around them. Lightning streaks chased from angry billow to undulating billow.

  “Something better change soon. We can’t go up. What about taking us closer to the ground?”

  The captain glanced at the altimeter and shook his head. “I don’t like the idea of going any lower. Keep her steady; we’ll make it through.”

  A loud banging at the door brought the captain to his feet. He checked the small CRT screen by the access door. The picture went fuzzy, then resolved to the harried face of his head flight attendant. Satisfied that she wasn’t under the influence of a crazed passenger, he unlocked the cockpit door and opened it.

  “What is it, Sheila?”

  “I’m sorry, Captain, but one of the passengers demanded that I speak with you,” the woman in her late twenties said. Her makeup had been subtle and understated when the flight began, but now her eyes look sunken and her cheeks had paled.

  “Not a good time, Sheila,” the captain growled at her.

  “But, sir–!”

  The captain glared at her and said, “You’re the head flight attendant. Go attend!” He shut the door and turned to face the wide glass windshield, hoping to see a break in the weather. If anything, it had worsened. The clouds were no longer gray streaked with blue, but black streaked with darker black. “Where is this coming from?” he wondered in frustration.

  Before the copilot could respond, a huge web of lightning crackled across the panorama in front of them. Mesmerizing in white, blue, pink and red, it seemed to collapse on the aircraft. In the cockpit, sparks fountained from the instrument console.

  The captain called commands to his copilot, even as the aircraft pitched to one side, then the other.

  In the main cabin, passengers were thrown from one side of the plane to the other, amid screams of panic and the flash of the cabin lighting beginning to fail. All at once, emergency air masks fell from the ceiling, adding to the pandemonium.
r />   Then the nose of the jet pitched down and flight 171 began speeding toward the ground.

  The captain and his copilot leaned back on the flight stick as one, yet were unable to budge it.

  “Come on, you pile of–!” The captain’s plea went unfinished as the clouds parted before them. Taking up the view was the side of a granite mountain racing toward them.

  Under normal circumstances, the impact would have echoed through the mountain range. But today, the storm swallowed it up in its fury.

  Several seconds later, flaming debris were all that remained of flight 171, scattered across several acres of mountainside. The bodies of the young and the old were scattered like lifeless ragdolls through the trees and across the ground. No miraculous survivors tried to climb to their feet or dig their way out of the rubble. Spots of flame burned in random patches throughout the hillside.

  As if to add insult to injury, thunder crashed from above and heavy rain began to pummel the mountainside. It didn’t take long before everything was saturated, muddy water running in rivulets streaked with crimson.

  More lightning clashed with thunder peeling cross the mountain range.

  The mostly intact body of Sheila Grace, head Flight Attendant, lay sprawled out on the grass. Her lifeless eyes stared up at the sky, her nearly decapitated head was bent at a bizarre right angle thanks to the tremendous gash in her neck. The lightning reflected from above in her lifeless eyes. Several seconds later, an eerie green light seemed to emanate from them, yet no lightning projected it from above. The green glow crept into being around the gash in her neck. After a few moments, the wound knit itself closed, slowly pulling her head back to the correct angle. When the wound finished healing itself, the woman blinked, then gasped in wonder.

  Chapter 22

  “More Players Arrive”

  Benjamin Steele stood at the security station in Falcon Industries’ front lobby, watching the three LED monitors. He stood a solid six-foot-three, with a well-toned build and short, dark hair. A single man who looked like he was in his late thirties, Steele’s green eyes had the look of a man much older. He’d been “in his late thirties” for many years. The longevity of his life made lasting relationships difficult. As a result, he had long ago become the master of the first, second and even third date, but socially, that’s where it ended. A dyed-in-the-wool bachelor, he looked forward to finishing his time as a Caretaker so that he could settle down and start a family. For the time being, the end was nowhere in sight.