He grabbed his wallet and keys, and though it was early, he’d head out.
Standing on his small stoop of a porch, he pulled the door closed, and as he locked it, he pushed the screen door open with his rear end.
It immediately banged against something and he turned to look.
The woman next door was doing the same thing, at the same time as him.
“Oh my Gosh, I am so sorry,” she said.
“Not a problem, I think you were here first.”
“Yeah I was.” Then she let out a sigh and stared at him as if he were one of those abused puppies in that commercial.
“What?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Nothing. You …” She reached out and grabbed his arm. ‘You try to have a good day.”
“I will. I’m going to buy a television.”
“Good. Good for you. You do that.”
The beeping horn caused her to jump.
Mitch looked over her head and lifted a hand to wave at Mark and Danni in the van.
“Nice meeting you,” she said. “I’m Liv. Remember, chin up.”
“Okay.” Mitch replied, scratching his head. What was up with her? She snubbed him every other time he saw her.
She stepped away, allowing her screen porch door to slam, and as Mitch did the same, he heard the whirling sound of airplane engines.
Too loud, and it grew louder by the second.
“What the heck?” Mitch stepped off the stoop into the shared small front lawn.
Both he and she looked up to the high pitched sound.
Mark and Danni stepped out of the van, looking up to the sky. Danni immediately had her phone.
“There.” Mark pointed.
Mitch didn’t even need to look, within seconds the plane was over head, it was so low, it vibrated everything.
“Holy shit,” Liv said. “Landing gear is down. It’s coming in way too fast.” She pivoted her body in the direction of the plane.
“What’s that mean?” Mitch asked.
“We’re close, but not that close to the airport. It’s either gonna crash or make one hell of a bad landing.” She walked to her daughter. “Did you get that?”
“I did.”
“FAA will want that.”
“Are you sure it’s going to crash?” Mark asked.
“No,” she said. “But I am sure it’s gonna be a bad landing. Listen …” she held up her hand.
Mitch approached. “Listen to what?”
Liv sighed out. “Nothing. That’s good. If it was going to crash, we would have heard it.”
“I’ll turn on the radio in the van,” Mark said. “I’m sure we’ll hear something.”
“Wow, how did you know this?” Mitch asked. “I thought you sold like gym memberships to middle aged women. That’s what Mark said.”
“I do, but ... long story.” She rushed to the van. “Whatever you do, don’t go near the airport. Something is up with that plane.”
She got in the van.
“Okay,” was Mitch’s only response. At that moment, instead of heading out shopping, he opted to go back in his house and turn on the television. He wanted to see if she was right.
<><><><>
Rose City, Michigan
The Rose City Café had by far, the best cinnamon swirl French toast that Guthrie ever had. In fact, he loved it so much, he stopped by there three days a week to get it. A habit that made his wallet smaller and his waist wider.
He’d get that weight off. He wasn’t too old, and he could easily just melt away the fat when he delivered mail in the summer heat.
He paid his tab, left a hefty tip and stepped out to the lot.
While retrieving his keys, he heard it.
In the distance at first, a roar of air. As it grew louder and closer, it reminded Guthrie of the sound of wind rushing through a slightly opened window on a highway.
His hair blew slightly and Guthrie gazed up to the sky. It physically took his breath away. It was just above, the wide, blue, fiery tail as the object soared across the sky. The force of it pulling at Guthrie.
“Holy shit,” exclaimed Guthrie as he stared, eyes fixed, watching it.
Once it vanished out of sight, he heard the ‘boom’ and felt the shake of the ground.
It had made impact.
Who to call?
He debated for a split second on whether he should call authorities or take a ride out and see where it landed and what it was.
Even with all those horror movies depicting the notion that chasing a meteor wasn’t a good thing, Guthrie still thought about it.
After all it wasn’t a meteor. If he was right, it was one of those three comets. The littlest of them was the only one set to make impact and he was willing to wager that was it.
Opting to call the authorities, Guthrie reached for his phone. He took a second to think about who to call and before his fingers could press the number nine, the phone dropped from his hand.
It was as if he had no control over his fingers, no grip whatsoever. He tried to form a fist and he started coughing. A weird cough, one like he never heard before. It came deep from within his chest and every hack hurt. As if his lungs were being ripped out. Habit had him bring his arm to his mouth and that was when he saw it on his sleeve. Blood. Thick blood, he coughed and coughed until suddenly, Guthrie stopped and couldn’t breathe. Every breath was hard to take. He thought about getting help and he lifted his head to see Mary Joe, the waitress, stumble out of the diner, after her, another patron.
They both looked the same, blood on their faces, panicked.
He watched as the waitress collapsed to the ground, and then Guthrie felt his legs give out. They didn’t just weaken, they broke. The bones felt like they disintegrated from within and the flesh and muscle of his legs couldn’t bare the weight of his upper torso and he crashed to the concrete.
It happened so fast he didn’t have time to register how horrified he was. First his legs, then his arms, and before long, his torso gave way and Guthrie’s face smashed to the ground. His last few moments were staring at his shoe. How was he still alive? He supposed he wasn’t, operating on the last few flashes of brain power.
From start to finish, it lasted thirty seconds. Then Guthrie was gone. He literally was no more.
3 – MANIFEST
Cleveland, Ohio
The radio played blips of music and he heard joking disc jockeys as Mark continuously changed stations. Liv looked back to Danni who was engrossed in the phone. “Anything?” she asked.
“Nothing yet, Mom,” Danni searched.
“Me either. It’s been sixteen minutes.”
“Maybe it recovered,” Mark said.
“No. No way,” Liv replied. “It landed. Maybe it landed without incident.”
“Just coming too low?” Mark asked.
“And too fast, you never … that’s it. That’s it.” Liv reached out halting his hand from changing the station. She heard the word ‘flight’.
"… came in at incredibly high speed,” the local newscaster said. "For landing. I’m being told it overshot the runway, but the plane did land. The odd part about it is, the plane is just sitting there. Emergency workers have created a perimeter around the plane, and no one has gone in or out. Once again, if you’re just joining us, Elite Airlines Flight 6520 has made an emergency landing at Cleveland International airport. At this time all incoming flights are being diverted and outgoing flights delayed. What exactly is happening with this plane, it’s too early to tell.”
“Doesn’t Uncle Brandon work for Elite?” Danni asked.
“Oh my God,” Liv said with shocked revelation.
“Liv?”
She turned sharply to Mark. “He was on a Redeye from Vegas to New York. That has to be his flight.”
“Shit. It didn’t crash though, right?” Mark said. “That’s a good thing. It didn’t crash. Maybe it’s some sort of terrorist thing.”
“Maybe …” Liv pursed her lips and
tried to swallow her concern. “Can I drop you off at work and take the van? I want to go to the airport.”
“Absolutely. Let’s take Danni to school and I’ll go with you,” Mark said.
Liv shook her head. “No, I’m sure everything is fine. Go to work. I just need to be there and need to find out. I’m not even sure they’ll tell me anything. But I have to try.”
She stared out the window the rest of the ride, forcing a smile when she said goodbye to her daughter.
They passed a convenience store on the way to Mark’s job, Liv had him stop and she ran in for a pack of cigarettes. Mark didn’t say anything to her, she guessed he let her go, and Liv began a chain smoking frenzy after dropping off Mark until reaching the airport.
Getting there wasn’t easy.
The freeway was a single lane, and the exit to the airport was blocked off with police.
“What the hell is going on?”
She listened to the radio and the updates all while she sat in traffic. The plane was in the field just off the runway and hadn’t moved. From the reporter’s account, no one had gone in or out.
Finally, she made it to the exit ramp and inched her way to the police officer, who waved cars away or clearly was perturbed when he had to speak to someone.
He probably got tired of saying the same thing over and over.
Liv rolled down her window.
“Ma’am, the airport is closed,” he said.
“I know, Officer, but my brother is on that plane. Flight 6520.”
“Hold on,” He tilted his head to this collar radio. “Base, hey, I have a woman here who says she has family on 6520.” He nodded then looked to Liv. “What’s your brother’s name?”
“Brandon Leer, he’s a flight attendant.”
“Brandon Leer, crew,” the officer repeated. After a minute he thanked whoever it was he spoke to on the radio and leaned toward the window. “Ma’am you’ll follow the road to short term parking. You’ll have to park on level three, they’ll ask you the same question again and tell you where to go from there.”
“Thank you.” Liv was one of the very few cars that passed through. She lit up one more cigarette and headed to the lot.
Again, another officer on the level asked her brother’s name and they cleared her to park in a special section. Her further instructions were to go to the third Elite counter and let them know who she was inquiring about.
Liv didn’t think too much about the process, she was a bundle of nerves. But the moment she gave her brother’s name to the woman at Elite and was promptly escorted to a back room, complete with a compassionate look, Liv knew. It was something much worse than a plane off the runway.
It was bad.
It had to be really bad.
<><><><>
Police cars, firetrucks, ambulances and other government vehicles formed a perimeter around the plane.
Rudy had been waiting. He had called them close to an hour beforehand and couldn’t do anything until they arrived.
He reiterated that to Bob Stevens who just wanted off the plane.
When he saw her, he knew things would get moving. Federal Agent Janet Greer stepped from the black SUV. Rudy had the pleasure of working with her twice before. He liked her. She was a taller woman, with a strong build and square jaw. To him, she looked like she should have been in one of those television cop shows. Her brown, copper highlighted hair and make up were always too perfect.
“Rudy,” she extended a hand. “How’s it going?”
“Bad. Best word I can describe.”
“One survivor?” she asked.
“Yep and we don’t know what happened. Waiting on the CDC to get here. It might be biological. We can’t say.”
“Well, we want to be cautious.”
“Our survivor?”
“Bob Stevens. First Officer was out of the cockpit and below when the event happened. He’s … he’s traumatized. He’s also on the eighth or ninth bottle of booze. We’re communicating with him through his phone. We video chatted, but he won’t leave the bathroom.”
“Let’s get him on the line again.”
Rudy nodded and dialed. The distinctive ring for video was heard and then Bob answered the phone.
“Am I allowed to leave?” Bob asked when he answered. His face was close to the phone, eyes red and the lighting wasn’t good.
“Hey, Bob,” Rudy said. “This is Agent Greer from homeland.”
“Bob,” Janet said. “CDC will be here in about two minutes. They’ll get you off the plane, sit tight. Okay? In the meantime, you don’t have to stay in the lavatory. If you haven’t caught whatever killed those people you won’t.”
“I’m not worried about that,” Bob replied. “I can’t walk anywhere without seeing them or stepping on them.”
Janet furrowed her brow. “Stepping on them? Bob, can you describe what you see?”
“Ever hear of something called The Rapture?”
“Yes.”
“You know some stories say God takes you and leaves only your clothes, right?”
“Right.”
“Well, think of this as a rapture gone bad. Like in the middle of it God said, ‘nope, I changed my mind’.”
Janet glanced at Rudy conveying she still wasn’t clear. “Bob, I know. I know you don’t want to leave the bathroom. But it would help us tremendously to get you out of there faster if we could see what we are dealing with. Can you help us please? Can you just step out, hold the camera out in front of you? Just for a second.”
After a moment, Bob replied “Okay. I will.”
Janet and Rudy watched as Bob stood. The camera showing a clear shot of his nostrils. He struggled with the bathroom door and then they heard it open.
“Oh, God, it’s starting to smell now.”
“It’s alright” Janet told him. “Turn the camera so we can see.”
Bob turned it then stepped out. It moved some as he took a few steps and the lighting brightened. Then Bob stopped. The camera held steady.
Janet squinted. “Bob can you show us one of the bodies?”
“I am,” Bob replied. “That’s one of the passengers and ...” He inched the camera over. “Sara, a flight attendant. You can see the name tag. They’re all like this.”
“Jesus, don’t move,” Janet instructed, then reached to the screen of Rudy’s phone, pinched her fingers and zoomed it. “Oh my God.”
She had no other reaction, no other words at that second. Bob described it as the Rapture gone bad, and as odd of a description as that was, it was pretty spot on.
Nothing in her mind could explain what had happened to those people.
<><><><>
The room reminded Liv of the waiting room at the DMV. Only without the benches in the center and annoying ‘next’ number sign.
She was the only one in there. After about fifteen minutes, someone brought in a coffee station and placed it by the window. Liv didn’t have any, she would later.
“No one’s here,” she said to Mark on the phone. “No one has said anything to me.”
“Liv, let me come. Don’t do this alone.”
“I don’t want to do this alone, but Hun, I don’t know how long this will take. The plane didn’t crash, so I think they’re okay.”
“Maybe it was hijacked,” Mark suggested.
“Maybe.”
“Do you need anything?”
“No, I took the charger from the car. I’ve been watching the news because it’s the only way to learn anything. All they said was someone would get to me soon.”
“Then they will, you just have to be patient. Remember, too, most of the family members of those on board probably aren't in New York.”
“That’s where the …” Liv lifted her eyes when the door opened. “Oh my God,” she said with shock. “Let me call you back. Our neighbor just walked in the room.”
“Which one?” Mark asked. “We have a lot. Seymour, next door, Watsons …”
“How do you
know all those people? No, it’s Mitch, I’ll call you back.” She ended the call but kept her phone in hand for the news.
Mitch looked just as shocked as she did.
“Wow, I can’t believe you walked in here.” Liv said. “Do you have family on the plane?”
“My parents. You?”
“My brother is a flight attendant.”
“Small world.”
“Isn’t it though,” She sighed out and looked at her phone.
“I keep telling myself everything is going to be okay. I mean, the plane is sitting there. Right. No ambulances rushing about, so no one is seriously hurt.”
Liv didn’t reply. She watched her phone.
“Liv?”
“I think this is a little more than an injury,” She handed him the phone. “Look. The CDC.” She showed him the image of a team wearing biohazard suits, boarding the plane. “This just got really scary.”
<><><><>
The sound of her breathing carried back at her through the heavy headgear of the hazmat suit. It wasn’t the first time Janet had worn one, but she didn’t wear them enough for her to get used to all the quirks.
She joined the CDC not because she knew anything medical, but she knew weapons and since it was also a suspected terrorist attack, she joined Doctors, Mallory and Walker Gimble, a husband and wife virologist super duo.
Janet found that strange and always joked that she could imagine what their dinner conversation were about.
“Everyone literally watch your step,” Walker announced. “Remains are everywhere.”
“Stick with me?” Mallory asked Janet.
“Absolutely,” Janet replied.
The team of four entered the plane.
“Rudy, do you hear us?” Janet asked. “Are you seeing this?”
“I am. Got you loud and clear.”
“What is this?” Mallory asked in a whispering manner. “This is so strange.” She glanced up to Janet. “We’ll bring a team in here after we take specimens. Bag the remains, mark them by seat and cross check the manifest. We’ll need DNA from family.”
We Who Remain Page 2