by Katz, Gayle
Owen still felt surprisingly alert, considering that he hadn’t had any breakfast that morning. Perhaps this journey was for the best. He was really looking forward to traveling to all the other countries on their itinerary.
As they approached the airport, the traffic grew heavier, until suddenly it was at a standstill.
“Richard, what’s happening?” asked Maisa.
“I don’t know. It seems like a lot of people want to get out of here.”
The bus sat for half an hour, until people started getting impatient.
“Hey! What’s going on?” called out a voice in Bantu. Other voices chimed in, too.
Finally, the bus driver got out of the vehicle and ran up ahead to ask some officials about what was going on. Owen watched while he spoke to them for about a minute. Then the driver raced back to the bus.
During this time, several vehicles carefully u-turned out of the lineup and went back the way they had come.
The driver hopped back onboard.
“What is it?” called out Richard in English.
“Bad news. Apparently, there is an attack at the airport. They’re advising that we turn around and go home.”
“That isn’t happening,” called out the man in Bantu. “We have no homes left.”
“Yeah!” said another voice. “Let’s go!”
“Really?” asked the driver. “Because we can go in if you want. But first, I need a show of hands.”
Owen’s parents looked frantically at each other, while Owen looked on in interest. “They are zombies, not insurgents,” he said.
Richard looked at Owen. They had a moment of understanding. It was clear what they had to do.
“Let’s do it!” called out Richard. “Everyone, have your weapons ready.”
For a bus that was on its way to the airport, and should have been free of weapons due to airport security, suddenly they were being pulled out from every nook and cranny of the bus.
“Cool,” said Owen.
“Hold on!” screamed the bus driver. “We’re going in! You’re going to make your flights.”
If there were seatbelts, they attached them around their bodies. For the seats without, people held onto the armrests or the backs of the seats in front of them.
The bus driver turned on the engine and hit the gas. He quickly jerked the steering wheel and the bus made a sharp right. Its tires skidded over large pebbles and debris at the edge of the road. Fortunately, there was enough width before the deep canyon below.
Owen sat back in his seat, smiling. “Zombies coming up.”
zzz
It was another half an hour before they finally made it to the airport. Unfortunately, the gates to the airport were closed. Officials were standing there with large rifles.
The bus driver got off the bus and went up to talk to them while everyone on the bus looked on anxiously.
“Hey, look! The planes are still coming and going,” said Owen.
“You’re right,” said his mother. “There’s hope yet.”
The driver came back to the bus. “OK, folks. We’re allowed through, but we aren’t allowed to go to Terminal 1, the building with the fighting. So, we go to Terminal 2 and hope that your flights are on time.” The driver got back on the bus and drove up to the gate.
The officials were already allowing some other vehicles through, so the bus joined the queue. Finally, they were through.
“What a relief,” said Richard. “Is that what the holdup was? They have to talk to every driver?”
“I guess for legal purposes,” said Maisa.
“Right, like there’s anyone to sue here.” Owen’s parents had a good chuckle.
Owen just smiled. So far, they were getting there. This was nothing compared to what it had taken them to get from their city to the safety of the camp.
“Remember,” yelled out the official. “Stay away from Terminal 1!”
The bus drove them over to the entrance of Terminal 2. Everyone gratefully got off the bus. They waited while the driver unlocked the luggage compartment and dug out their luggage.
Since Owen and his parents had few belongings, they just carried on into the building.
“Wow. This brings back memories,” said Richard. “When I was five, we arrived here from Nigeria.”
“I thought they rebuilt the airport?” asked Maisa.
“They did, but they kept some of its original features. Just look at that fountain.”
“That’s so soothing and peaceful,” said Owen. He walked up to it and peered into the water. At the bottom were several coins. He was enjoying seeing all the different currencies from around the world when his eyes stopped on something that was definitely not a coin. “Ummm, I think we should get to the gate,” he said, suddenly walking in that direction.
“What is it??” asked Maisa.
Richard had a quick look, and then steered her away. “You don’t need to see.”
They quickly made it to their gate.
“Oh good. Our plane is here,” said Owen.
“Where’s the crew? I don’t see anyone,” said Richard.
“Can we just board the plane?” asked Owen.
“I don’t think so. I think we need to check-in or something.”
“This is weird. There is no one else here,” said Owen.
“Well, I think the other passengers are probably on other flights.” Richard shrugged.
“Is there somewhere we can get a bite to eat?” asked Maisa. “There is still an hour before we can check-in.”
“I think that coffee shop we saw as we passed is closed, but I did see some vending machines near it.”
“Works for me,” said Owen. He followed his parents across the wide expanse of the airport. There were some people seated in some of the other gate waiting areas. How strange. For an airport, it was extremely quiet.
They were almost to the vending machines when they heard a loud explosion come from the left side of the building.
Owen’s dad was familiar with warfare. “Get down!” he cried. His family dropped to the ground.
After the explosion, there were sounds of large, heavy objects hitting the ground, and then rustling sounds, like sand hitting the floor.
“We have to get out of here!” called out Richard.
“Just wait,” said Owen, holding out his hand and touching him on the shoulder.
Soon the noise subsided and it was quiet.
“I think that’s it,” said Owen, pushing himself off the ground and into a standing position.
“What was that?” asked Maisa, letting her husband help her up off the ground. They grabbed their belongings.
“It sounded like a bomb going off.”
“Yep,” said Owen. “I do believe they bombed Terminal 1 to kill all the zombies.”
“Here we go again,” said Maisa.
“Shhh,” said Richard. “We’d better hope it was only zombies. That means no one is targeting us.”
“Can we get something to eat?” asked Owen in a nonchalant manner. “I’m getting hungry.”
“Sure, Owen. Anyway, if we needed to evacuate, I’m sure there would be someone here to tell us, right?”
zzz
After they ate, the family headed back to their gate. They were relieved to see other people there, including crew members.
“What happened next door?” asked Richard, handing his boarding pass to the check-in clerk.
“Oh, we had an earthquake. Nothing wrong. Don’t worry.”
Owen handed his boarding pass over next. He tried not to roll his eyes. His mother was behind him.
Soon, the family of three was safely on the U.S. Air Force jet.
“Hey, cool!” said Owen. “It’s like first class accommodations.”
“Hello,” said the attendant. “I’m sure this is a bit rough compared to what you’re used to, but the U.S. has kindly offered to get some of the refugees safely out of the camp. And, I heard we just had an earthquake, so we’ll try an
d get into the air as quickly as possible before there’s another one.”
Owen and his family found their seats and belted up.
“Are there any refreshments?” he asked.
The attendant shook his head. “No, sorry. But once you’re in Cairo, they have a wide selection of restaurants there.”
Owen looked over at his parents. They seemed content and smiled back at him. His mother handed him a can and a granola bar, which he willingly took. He looked forward to a nice restful and pleasant flight. After all, what could possibly go wrong after the past year?
zzz
Owen’s family made it safety to Egypt, then onward to the UK. There, they stayed overnight in an old hotel near the airport. They were boarding a plane the next day when Owen saw someone he thought he knew.
“Say, Dad, that man up ahead looks familiar.”
“You’re right, Owen. I think he was on the plane to Egypt with us.”
After they boarded the plane, it turned out that the man was seated in the same aisle as Owen and his family.
“Hello there,” said the man in a thick accent. “I believe I saw your family at the airport in Uganda.”
Owen nodded. “You did. Were you in our camp too?”
He shook his head. “No, I came in from up north. I’m flying to Oregon to visit family.”
“Really? What a coincidence. We’re moving to Oregon. Well, at least until I graduate school and can return home.” He didn’t notice when his dad frowned at that comment.
“Don’t be so hasty. By the way, my name is Akello.” He held out his hand for Owen to shake. “Hi there,” he said to Owen’s parents after everyone introduced themselves.
“What brings you to America?” asked Richard.
“I have family in Ashland. They have been begging me for the past three years to come and visit them, so I am.” He laughed.
“That’s great,” said Owen.
“What do you do for a living?” asked Maisa.
“Me? I’m an archeologist. I work all over Africa.” He was proud of his achievement.
“Wow. That’s cool,” said Owen. “Are you an Egyptologist, too?”
He laughed. “Nope. That is quite a specialty. I specialize in tribal archeology, around the central region of Uganda.”
“Wow,” said Owen, quite impressed. “But there are dozens of tribes and languages.”
Akello adjusted his seatbelt. “It keeps me busy.”
“Can you tell us what you’re currently working on?” asked Richard. As a lawyer, he knew that often people couldn’t talk about work as much as they wanted to, due to confidentiality agreements. And he knew there was an illicit trade of artifacts in Africa and around the world. Often excavations were kept secret to avoid capturing the notice of thieves.
“Well, I can’t tell you where I have been excavating, but it should be in the news shortly. However, I can tell you that I made quite the discovery.”
“What is it?” asked Owen, eager to learn more. “A mummy? An urn? Jewelry?”
“Not even close.”
Everyone surrounding the group was greatly interested in this conversation. It was a lot different than the usual talk of debating politics.
The flight attendant came to serve them drinks and snacks, so the conversation had to be continued later.
Finally, Owen’s curiosity got the better of him. “So, what did you find during the excavation?”
“Well, I found a mask.” He smiled at the memory.
“A mask? Like, carved from wood?” His eyes opened wide.
“No, it’s made from leather.”
“But, it was in the ground? How did it survive? How old is it?”
He laughed. “Owen, perhaps you should study archeology.”
“Oh no, I was going to get into law enforcement. My parents are lawyers.” He was proud of them and turned and smiled at them.
“That’s great! OK, so the mask was found inside a box in the ground. It was covered in cotton cloth, so it was somewhat protected from the elements.”
Owen got enthusiastic. “That’s fantastic! So was it made by an ancient tribe not around anymore? Was it painted? Did it have hair on it?”
“It had been painted, but most of it was worn away. And yes, it has hair attached to it. That was quite common back then. The hair usually was from a respected and beloved tribal elder.”
“Cool! Do you have a photograph?”
“Why yes, I do.” Akello pulled out his tablet and flicked through the photos. Here it is.” He held up the screen so Owen and his family could look at it.
But he hadn’t expected to get such a reaction out of Owen.
“What the hell? That’s like the devil or something.” Owen struggled to find words.
Maisa looked at the screen. “That’s just a mask. It’s intricately carved, with some dark red paint on it.”
Owen just shook his head back and forth. “That’s blood, not paint.”
Richard just sat in his seat and frowned, looking curiously at Owen. When his son said something, often he wasn’t wrong.
“It could be,” said Akello. “I’m going to have it shipped to Portland University, where they will run lab tests.”
Owen didn’t want to look at the photo anymore. “I would burn it if I were you.”
Akello decided to put away his tablet. “Perhaps you shouldn’t be an archeologist then. That goes against our mission statement to preserve, protect, and educate people about the past.”
“Whatever.”
Akello was greatly offended, so he picked up his magazine, hoping that this discomfort would pass.
Owen was happy enough to do the same.
Richard sat in his seat, contemplating what had just happened. His son almost seemed empathic at times, to people and to objects, but then they quickly changed once the truth was known. But then he smiled. Those were the exact qualities that someone who was seeking a career in law needed to have.
zzz
There was only half an hour to go in the flight when the people in the first-class cabin heard some disturbances in the back.
“What’s happening, miss?” asked Richard to the flight attendant.
“Someone is sick and not feeling well,” she explained. “We’ll be landing in half an hour, so don’t worry, we’ll have someone ready to check them out.” She closed the curtains separating coach from first class.
“Yeah, the food upset my stomach a bit too,” said Owen, rubbing his belly.
“I have something for that,” said Akello. He pulled out a small bottle of peppermint oil. “Just a few drops on top of the tongue.” He demonstrated, and then handed it to Owen.
“Hey, thanks. Whoa! It burns.”
“That will go away.”
Owen offered it to his parents, but they hadn’t eaten the fish meal and were fine. He handed it back.
“Well, it was nice meeting you,” said Owen. “Sorry, I think your mask is freaky.”
“Oh, that’s fine. At least you admit what you like and don’t like. It’s a good thing that I never brought it out to show you.”
“Show me?” said Owen.
“Why yes. Remember I mentioned I was going to ship it to Portland University once I reach Ashland? I have it right here in my bag.” He pointed down under the seat in front of him where his bag was.
Owen hadn’t finished swallowing before screams were heard from the back of the plane.
Chapter 8
________________________________________
“I should go see what’s happening,” said Richard, standing up.
“No, you should stay here,” said Owen, jumping out of his seat.
“Please, everyone, stay in your seats,” said the flight attendant.
Owen and Richard didn’t want to, but they sat back down again.
“It bit me!” screamed a voice from the back.
“Damn it!” said the flight attendant. Another attendant came running up to her. “Who is the air marshal
?” she asked.
“Um, I think it’s the guy in the back row.” Suddenly, a gunshot was heard.
“Oh my god! Look at that,” said the male attendant. In the back of the plane, there were people running around biting others. “How odd.”
“Biting people?” said Owen, snapping off his seatbelt and standing up. He walked the few feet and went to stand in front of them. “That’s bad. We can’t let them bite anyone else!”
“We’re landing in twenty minutes,” the flight attendant said. “We can have people treated at the terminal.”
“I don’t think that’s going to work,” said Owen. “They could come down this way and get to the pilots. Then you know what’s going to happen.”
“No, they won’t,” said the woman. “The door to the pilot’s cabin is kept locked.”
“Well, that’s good,” said Owen.
“OK, let’s get people into the bathrooms,” said the attendant.
“Good idea,” said Owen.
“Go and tell them,” said the attendant. “We’ll try and get the people back here into the bathrooms in the back.”
Owen went up to this parents. “Hey, Mom and Dad, get into the first class bathroom.”
“What? Is there enough room?”
“Let’s go,” said Richard, grabbing his wife’s arm after he heard another loud scream from the back.
“He’s eating her!” screamed out a voice.
“And the kids, take the kids too,” said Owen to a couple at the front.
“Here, people can hide in the galley,” said the flight attendant. “There are folding doors that close. That should keep people safe.”
“I’ll put the child in the sink,” said Richard, trying to get people into the small bathroom. His wife hopped on top of the toilet, while two more women were crammed inside.
“Captain, we have an incident on the plane. I suggest you radio for help and get this plane landed ASAP,” said the female flight attendant into the intercom.
