Dawn of Revelation

by A N Sandra

  “Way to see the glass half full. Go, let’s just get on the plane.” Peter was white as a sheet, highlighting his few freckles.

  The plane was small. There were eight seats, a pilot, and no flight attendant. In the rear of the plane was a very tiny bathroom. The aircraft bumped down the ragged strip of grass that was cut into the jungle to serve as a runway, and soon they were lifting off. Helena tried not to panic, but her fear of heights was coming back. It had not been cured by the zip line, and the small plane seemed so fragile in the huge sky.

  “Are there any snacks?” Ray asked, even though it appeared doubtful that there was any food they couldn’t see.

  Tawna shook her head no and everyone sat sullenly.

  “This is the worst vacation ever,” Lourdes burst out after the plane was no longer over the jungle, but open ocean.

  Tawna gave a small smile. The minutes passed slowly, and Helena fell asleep in spite of herself. When she woke up it was completely dark outside the plane.

  “How long have we been flying?” Helena asked Peter.

  “I thought about counting the seconds like Robinson Crusoe counted days, but I didn’t so I don’t know. Maybe three hours?”

  More sullen time passed before the plane touched down at a small island airport.

  “No one is getting off here, we are just refueling,” Tawna warned. The pilot got off and checked over the plane. Tawna positioned herself by the door and Helena was pretty sure she would tackle any of them that tried to get out. Helena tried to decide if she could take Tawna, who was clearly sobering up a bit.

  “We’re all hungry,” Peter said, logically.

  “There is a little restaurant here and the pilot is getting us some dinner.”

  The pilot did leave the plane and come back with a large box that was packed like a picnic basket. There were tuna salad sandwiches and cans of soda and cookies that looked more like crackers than cookies. Helena turned one of them over suspiciously, deciding if she should eat it.

  “It’s a Nutter Butter,” Lourdes told her. “We used to eat them all the time.”

  That didn’t actually help Helena feel better, but she ate it anyway. Compared to Maria’s cookies it tasted a bit like cardboard, but it was sweet, and Helena struggled with her sweet tooth.

  They flew on in the dark and before long all the kids were asleep. The picnic basket had included a large box of wine, which Tawna had emptied into a large, red plastic cup a sip at a time. Three days ago, Tawna had been sipping cocktails from crystal tumblers on board a yacht, now she was drinking boxed wine from a Solo cup.

  “Any chance we’ll ever get home?” Helena asked Tawna after coming out of the bathroom. Tawna appeared to have finished most of her wine so Helena was brave enough to ask.

  “Oh, we’re never going home.” Tawna slurred a little as she spoke.

  Since her father had not arrived at the airport Helena had been worried. Her worry had blossomed and grown quite large over the last four days spent isolated from the world with no phones, no civilization, and no money or places to spend any. Where was her father? Had they really been kidnapped?

  “Why aren’t we going home?” Helena tried to sound calm.

  “We have another fuel stop to make and then I’m going to explain it to all you kids at our final destination.”

  Another island airstrip appeared below. As soon as they landed the pilot got off the plane again and this time brought breakfast to everyone. All the kids had been wearing the same clothes for more than twenty-four hours, and none of them had combed their hair. Tawna had a small day pack that she had taken a comb from and fixed her hair at some point, but they were a ragged looking bunch.

  “When we land next time, we can talk about what’s really going on,” Tawna told them. She grinned as if she had swallowed a whole lemon and was just about to grab her stomach in pain. But she seemed pleased with herself for the strange accomplishment of dragging four young people to a strange place without their consent.

  “About time,” Ray said.

  Helena was too angry to talk, and Peter was clearly planning what he would say later. He had a very vacant look in his eyes, but having known him her whole life, Helena knew he was thinking hard.

  When the plane leveled off, Tawna passed out breakfast burritos to everyone and they all ate quickly. Helena was so hungry that she found the burrito to be delicious and was sorry when it was finished. She sipped orange juice from the small plastic container Tawna had passed to her. Tawna opened another box of wine.

  The small plane left the ocean and flew inland, and Helena guessed that they were over Alaska or Canada. The land was deep green and bodies of water were crisp blue. For three and a half hours the plane hummed along with four angry but silent children, and with Tawna drinking wine from a box. At last the plane dropped them at a small informal airstrip in a large meadow. At the edge of the meadow was a small SUV of some kind, but other than that it was deserted.

  The aircraft hit the meadow with a big bounce. Peter grabbed Helena’s arm.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” Helena grinned nervously. His concern for her was amusing, he was younger than she was and had no emergency training she could remember, but evidently his male pride demanded that he check on her. He was such a Texan.

  “Can we get off now?” Lourdes demanded.

  “I don’t want to go anywhere until I know what’s going on,” Ray sulked.

  “Everyone off,” Tawna demanded. She tipped up her solo cup and let the remaining wine drops fall on her tongue. “Now!”

  “Here goes nothing,” Peter said, standing up and leaving first. Helena let Lourdes follow since she was so anxious to be off the plane. When Helena hesitates slightly Tawna pushed her out next and followed, pulling on Ray’s arm.

  Almost as soon as Ray’s feet hit the ground the plane began to bumble down the meadow and barely cleared the trees at the edge before it was out of sight. Even though they were in full sun, they were very chilly and gathered around Tawna like a pack of vultures.

  CHAPTER 4

  June 6th, Manhattan, NY

  God, Molly Hollister has a one-fifteen reservation,” Tilly Banks, the midweek hostess of Crackhouse, said to Maddy and Sadie. The two waitresses were standing at the hostess desk planning their shift before the lunch rush. Tilly’s hair was so black it was almost blue, and she wore a slim charcoal-colored wrap dress that not only made her soft pink skin and pale blue eyes shine, but accentuated her curves. She looked a great deal like a brunette Marilyn Monroe, and she played to those strengths with her self-designed wardrobe. She frowned into the POS screen in front of her.

  “Well, someone is going home early today,” Sadie said. Her curly red hair was swept up in a bun that was a work of art more than a hairstyle, and her makeup was just as flawless over her porcelain skin. Sadie was more than beautiful, she was a real firecracker. “Forever.”

  “I’m going to back to college next fall anyway. I was going to give my notice,” Maddy said. “I can stay with my sister and get a job at Martha’s Vineyard for the next few weeks and make more money with less headache. I’ll take her table.”

  “You’re just going to let her get you fired without a fight?” Tilly raised her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. She had expected all three of the waitresses working lunch to argue tooth and nail about who was going to take Molly’s table. It was a known fact in the Manhattan hospitality industry that Molly Hollister got someone fired from their job every time she ate out, either to prove she could, or because she liked throwing her power around, or both. It sounded exhausting to Tilly, all those hard feelings, but where there was smoke there was fire, and Molly Hollister was a spoiled brat who wanted control more than she wanted to be happy.

  “Sadie needs the money more than me. She needs new headshots and she has a lot of auditions lined up. She doesn’t have time to find another job. Annalise has a kid, and a nasty ex; she can’t go without a paycheck. I can just move my stuff
back to Mom’s two weeks sooner and give up my exciting Manhattan life.” Maddy was the practical one. She was quite lovely with deep brunette hair, soft brown eyes, and slender features, although she preferred to be noticed for her brains. “Besides, she might just go after you, Tilly, you’re the first one she’ll see. Or she might go after a chef.”

  “She did do that at Zapata’s,” Sadie remembered. “She got Raul fired. He was the best Latin chef in Manhattan.”

  “That was sad,” Tilly said with a dreamy look on her face. “He was so hot. He was about to have his own show on the Food Channel.”

  “He’s working in Las Vegas now,” Maddy shuddered just a little at the perceived fall of Chef Raul. “At the Wynn, but still.”

  “Well, any of us might only have our jobs for the next couple of hours, so let’s get to work,” Sadie said. She had found that being beautiful to the tenth power meant she must have extra work ethic or she would be considered a slacker. She also knew that she should stay out of Molly’s sight when Molly did turn up for her reservation, because she was often the target of wealthy women who were upset that money could not make someone look like Sadie. Molly Hollister spent a great amount of money on her appearance, but she simply had not gotten the return on her investment that wealthy women often did.

  Crackhouse was an edgy Manhattan gastropub with unique cookies so good they were considered to be “crack.” The modern burgers weren’t bad either and the hand-cut French fries doused in white truffle oil were over the top amazing. The beer was brewed from a strange assortment of vegetation that made it a meal. A job at the Crackhouse was hard to get and would be easy enough to lose over a simple mistake since Rodney Shark, the owner, was a high energy perfectionist. The entire restaurant was like a series of wheels within wheels, so that they all just worked together efficiently. Anyone who stopped their own wheel from spinning was likely to be outside in a matter of minutes. As it stood, Crackhouse was probably the most efficient restaurant in Manhattan.

  “She’s coming,” Tilly caught Sadie’s attention as she walked by with two crab burgers. Sadie gracefully slowed her pace to see what Tilly saw.

  Together, both young women looked through the glass front of Crackhouse to watch the black luxury car at the curb. A very handsome security officer was helping a young woman out of the rear passenger door. Molly was slender, with Alice in Wonderland hair, large blue eyes and creamy skin. Her outfit was perfectly fitted to her and since Tilly, a young fashion designer, could not recognize the brand of purse she carried, it was certainly custom made. Tilly and Sadie paused just long enough to etch the moment into their working memory, not long enough to be considered gawking by any standards.

  “I don’t like to sit by the window,” Sadie could hear Molly saying as she came through the door, even though Sadie had heard that the hostess at Breakwater had been fired for not giving Molly a window seat. “I want to sit by the kitchen. I like action.”

  Dear Lord, Sadie thought, that would be Annalise’s section, but Annalise would be terrified to wait on Molly. If anyone could pull off taking a difficult table in another section it would be Maddy, and everyone would pitch in and help her. As bad as the situation was, there was the electric atmosphere that happens in a hospitality environment where everyone knows whatever happens next will be a story they tell for a lifetime. Maddy had already volunteered to be in the line of fire, so Annalise walked away to another table as Molly was seated and Maddy stepped up.

  “What would you like to drink today?” Maddy asked with perfect serenity as Molly situated herself at the table. Unlike many waitresses Maddy was not an aspiring actress, or artist, but a business student. She was brisk and to the point, not a threat to any woman with date, not a potential mistress for any man even though she was quite lovely. Rodney was smitten with her, knowing the two of them could build a restaurant empire with Maddy as a life partner, but Maddy wanted other things.

  Molly consented to drink chardonnay with her muenster mustard chicken burger, and she ate more than half of it when it came, a respectable amount for a socialite to consume in public. She also ate her entire Molasses Crinkle cookie and instead of putting her credit card on the bill to pay, she drew a large checkbook from her sleek handbag.

  “I would like to see Rodney,” Molly said sweetly as Maddy showed confusion.

  “Certainly,” Maddy turned on her heel and went back to the kitchen, where Rodney had been waiting to see which staff member he was going to have to fire, which wheel spoke he was going to have knocked out by Molly.

  Molly and Rodney spoke with intensity for several minutes while the staff worked as efficiently as they could, trying to spy on the conversation. As the exchange went on, Molly wrote a check with a large flourish and presented it to Rodney who grinned like a fool, caressing the check with religious awe.

  “Goodbye everyone!” Molly waved like the celebrity that she was before leaving the restaurant.

  Rodney walked to his office and everyone else went back to work. Customers who had been watching for the scene they had been sure would come were either disappointed, or relieved, and hurried back to work. When only a few customers lingered in the midafternoon lull, Rodney called an all-staff meeting in the kitchen.

  “I can’t stay long,” Annalise fretted. “My babysitter gets mad when I’m late.”

  “You need a new babysitter then,” Rodney told her. “Because Molly Hollister is your new boss, she just bought the whole place for more than I ever dreamed. All of you are about to be on her new reality show, which will be set here. She bought the restaurant and she wants all of you on her show. Especially Sadie, who she saw off-Broadway last year. We will finish today, and tomorrow she is going to start remodeling to accommodate cameras, so everyone has the next few days off.”

  Everyone was shocked. They had expected someone to be fired, probably Maddy, and instead they were all about to become famous. Then the reality of reality TV set in.

  “I can’t be on TV,” Jesus said, finally. “My mother doesn’t know I work here. She thinks I’m still a medical assistant. She doesn’t know I got fired from my medical assisting job.”

  “Molly can probably track you down, and find you,” Maddy said with narrow eyes and a grim tone. “That’s what her father does when he takes over companies and people quit before he can fire them. He likes to fire people and he hates people who deny him the pleasure. You might not get another job for a really long time. The Hollisters are more than bullies, they completely destroy people who cross them.”

  “That’s true,” Shelta, a plump prep cook agreed. “They are really vindictive.”

  “You shouldn’t have sold the restaurant to her!” Annalise said with wide panicked eyes. “I need this job! My ex is always trying to get custody. If I lose my job, he’ll take me back to court! If I look bad on TV he’ll use it against me!”

  “There wasn’t really a choice,” Rodney said defensively. “Her father owns the building we’re in. It would have gone hard if I hadn’t, and this way I have the money to do something else when it’s all over. Besides, the Hollister Foundation does a lot of great things. The vaccination chip they’re bringing out this year is going to make the whole world healthier!”

  “It’s good for you, Sadie!” Tilly said. She always tried to find the silver lining on every cloud. “You’ll be famous! You always shine on camera.”

  “She doesn’t want to make me look good,” Sadie said wisely. “She wants me to humiliate me on national television. If I don’t show up and let her do it, I’ll suffer somewhere down the line. I can promise you she wants me to look bad, and she gets what she wants. I can’t imagine why she thinks she needs with a reality show about a restaurant. Did she say?”

  “She did,” Rodney answered. He was clearly still dazed by the events of the afternoon. “She said she’s running out of time. She wants to be a reality star, and since everyone eats, everyone will watch.”

  “Running out of time?” Tilly shook her head skepti
cally. “She’s twenty-four.”

  “She said she was running out of time to be a star,” Rodney asserted. “That’s all I know.”

  As Molly’s driver took her away from Crackhouse, Molly mentally checked off another thing that she had managed to do this week before it was too late. Less than eight months from now the world would be different. It would be exciting, yes, and she was delighted for a chance to be a part of the new world that was coming. It was no less than her due, to be part of the chosen few. She didn’t know any other way to live, but she still wanted some important things to happen before her father and his select group of associates restored the entire planet.

  She wanted to be famous for more than just being a rich bitch. She wanted the whole world to acknowledge her superiority, completely. She also wanted to be hailed as beautiful, and since she didn’t turn heads the way she would like, she would use beautiful women around her to highlight her strengths.

  It would be a pleasure to humiliate Sadie, who had caught the attention of Molly’s date the year before when they had seen her onstage. Molly also planned on making Maddy look incompetent and stupid, so that she would never have a real career. Molly had known girls like Maddy since kindergarten. They always thought they were so smart, with their quick answers and pleasing ways. Molly had spent her childhood learning how to eat girls like that for breakfast. Molly had been valedictorian of her elite private school because she knew how to sabotage girls like Maddy. Tilly thought she was a creative designer. Probably Tilly fancied that she would be a top fashion designer at some point in her life. Molly knew what it took to dress well: money and more money. Tilly had looked striking that day, probably she had even made the fabulous dress she wore herself, but Molly would find ways to make her look foolish, framing her own narrative.

  The car slid down city streets and Molly organized her thoughts with her personal assistant, Becky, as they made their way back to Molly’s penthouse. They organized details about the restaurant construction that had been planned even before lunch. Rodney would have been horrified to know that Molly had been inside the restaurant when it was closed several times with her father’s favorite contractors. Filming would start in less than a week and Molly was using all her father’s money with no limits or restraints. Why should he restrain her from spending money, when after all, money was not going to be worth anything in the near future?