Monsters Among Us (Deception Series Book 1)

by Margaret Afseth

  "Do we have to stage another kidnapping? Put the message at the beginning...if that doesn't work, send someone in to her apartment to set up a tape to sleep-suggest!"

  "We'll find a way, sir."

  "You had better. If she is already selected, she needs to be brought in."

  "Right! I'm on it."

  ****

  "Hello!" the bright voice on the other end of the line proclaimed. "This is Amie, and I'd like to award you a free trip to the Bahamas. All you have to do..."

  Disgusted, Gemma hung up before the sentence finished. She knew the recording was a scam call, and she was getting more than annoyed. These were the only kind of messages she seemed to get, lately.

  Wouldn't it be nice, to really win something...

  But everyone in the modern world knew that telemarketers were a scam.

  Those born in the country had long ago noticed a certain attitude toward them in the many arriving from the less privileged third world. These new peoples viewed the government, with their numerous subsidies, and health benefits, as their personal cash cow. In their eyes, those born here were naive, and gullible, with more privilege and affluence than they deserved.

  Upon their arrival, feeling it was now their right to exploit them, they daringly set up unregistered companies, based back in their homeland, to prey upon the unsuspecting elderly and lower class citizens; thus was the bases of most scams; it was their way to get access to your computer; a way into your personal financial records.

  What Gemma couldn't figure, was what benefit it did them, when she didn't bite.

  The callers were under the assumption most people were loaded with cash; and expected these would easily fall for the ploy. But Gemma felt, along with her luck, her money tree had failed to materialize; had in fact, died a long time ago. Her EBooks made little money, just a couple dollars at a time. Most readers preferred to download her books when they were up for free.

  Gemma assumed this scam was like all the others. Nothing was ever free.

  But, now that she had a clean bill of health, she was just mad enough at Bella, for her neglect and abandonment, to take off on that holiday vocation, and blow all her savings to do it.

  If I disappeared for a while, it might scare her but good!

  The more she thought about it, a trip sounded so nice. To get away from it all, leave her sister behind, not even tell her she was going.

  But not a trip to a foreign land. Maybe a tour...to Hawaii.

  ****

  Having finally made a decision, Gemma went on line to find the perfect holiday. There was one, a tour of the Hawaiian Islands' gardens, that she would give most anything to see, and it also, wasn't that bad for price. The costly part was the airfare to get across country to connect with the cruise ship.

  Apparently, there was no direct scheduled route. One had to back track, all the way from the center of the country to the opposite coast, then fly back the other way again from east to west.

  How stupid is that?

  Gemma didn't like it much, but what could you do? It was the way things were.

  She booked passage on the cruise, and the flight east, plus the one west across country; paid for the tickets, hoping all the while the two airlines would connect, as they were supposed to. If they didn't, it would put her in a real bind.

  When the day of departure arrived, her worse fears were materialized. Nothing went as planned.

  It seldom does.

  ****

  The flight from the prairies was uneventful, but upon arrival at the large eastern international airport, the passengers of Gemma's flight were informed their connection would be delayed; it was having engine trouble, the plane was grounded, the flight cancelled. All passengers would be on standby until further notice.

  I have ten hours before the boat leaves...it might still be okay.

  Gemma could not return home, so like many others, she remained in the airport, hopeful of a quick resolve. The hours passed, while many sought rest in the chairs at their disposal.

  Gemma had purchased a prepaid credit card for the tour, but to use it for food in the terminal would make it near impossible to enjoy any future entertainment, so she went without lunch, and then...supper, all in the hopes, this would soon end.

  Eight hours later, she was no longer reassured.

  "Are you the folks waiting on standby?" asked a uniformed attendant, coming up beside Gemma.

  A number of people, slouching, half asleep, came to abrupt attention, at her words.

  "We have a plane leaving in twenty minutes; everything is loaded, and you've already been through customs...you just have to get to terminal six, across the building, before they take off. Follow me..."

  Twenty minutes was not much time to cover all that distance, but the woman seemed to think it possible. She took off, with a long line of followers, so fast, Gemma nearly got left behind.

  Annoyingly, Gemma's vision picked that moment to go defective. The scenes all around her became mostly blurred...a strange place; always unfamiliar, at best. But Gemma was used to this happening, and had long ago learned to find other ways to feel her way through. She could see enough, just to guide her.

  She pinpointed a chunky, short, middle aged man, just in front of her, latched on with determination to follow him as closely as possible. He and his wife had been the last to join the group in the waiting room. It seemed, they had just hurried through security prior to their arrival, and the man was still trying to replace articles removed during the search. He lagged, falling back more by the minute, attempting, as he ran, to return his shoes to his feet.

  Gemma didn't realize, he'd been unable to replace his belt, until she watched him for a time. Her line of sight was fixed at his waist, and as he ran, the trousers slid down frighteningly over the nonexistent hips. He'd stop and pull up his pants, then run again for a space, only to have them slide down, over and over.

  Gemma looked up, as the intercom announced the last call to their flight, and that was when she lost her guide, altogether.

  She stood still, fuming.

  I've missed it! Pokey old guy! Why did I even follow him?

  Out of the fog around her, another attendant appeared at her side.

  "Are you Gemma?"

  "Yes!" she declared, relieved.

  "The plane is waiting for you. Come with me."

  Gemma breathed a sigh; she hadn't realized they kept such good tabs on passengers. But the woman did not take off after those she had been following; they turned about, and went back the way she had come.

  "Where are we going?" asked Gemma, puzzled. She was getting her completely lost.

  "I know a quick short cut..."

  ****

  The airport, in this section, seemed crawling with foreign, bearded, brown-skinned men. They peered from around corners, and doorways, everywhere, ogling her.

  It's only my imagination...

  From the corner of her eye, Gemma thought she caught a glimpse of a familiar figure.

  Gemma stopped short, turning about abruptly.

  I didn't just see Doctor Harmon talking to Doctor Gee back in that doorway, did I?

  But, when she looked back, the entryway behind was empty; the two men had either stepped back from view, and vanished, or they had never been there at all.

  Man! I sure do need this vacation. I'm seeing the ghosts from my past.

  Chapter 10

  Gemma had thought she was the last one to board, but half way down, on her right, there were still two vacant seats. She slipped into the window seat, so she could watch the scenery as they took to the air.

  While waiting, she scanned the other passengers.

  Where is old droopy drawers? Did he and his wife miss the flight?

  Glancing at her watch, Gemma was hit with reality. Disgusted, she leaned back dejectedly in her seat. She had just realized, she would never make the connection with her cruise.

  All that money wasted! What am I going to do now?

&nb
sp; I have no place to stay when I arrive; no relatives on the west coast.

  Who do I contact?

  This is worse than when they told me I had cancer.

  Man! I must be the most unlucky person in the universe!

  ****

  Just before they took off, the stewardess helped the last passenger into the seat beside Gemma; a scrawny, unsteady younger woman.

  The new arrival didn't lower into the seat gracefully; she plunked down heavily, as if her limbs were unreliable, almost falling against Gemma. The stewardess fastened her seatbelt for her, then went forward to seat herself before takeoff.

  As the plane began to ascend, this new seatmate made an attempt to introduce herself.

  "My...name's...Ly...di...a," she stammered.

  "Gemma," acknowledged the other.

  When she reached out to clasp the proffered hand, Gemma was shaken to the core, experiencing a sudden kaleidoscope of images, as they flooded through her mind.

  She gasp, as if her hand was on fire, abruptly letting go. It was like the static shock, when sticking your finger in an electric socket; like being mentally flash burned.

  Whoa! What just happened? It seemed like I just saw her whole life pass before my eyes.

  But, the younger woman appeared not to have noticed anything amiss. She sat back against her seat, going quiet until the takeoff was over and they had leveled off. Then, with the release of the seatbelts, Lydia turned to Gemma, determined to do her best to carry out a conversation.

  And...she seemed inclined to expose her whole past history.

  Oh, well. At least, it will take my mind off my own situation.

  Lydia revealed, she had a six week old baby daughter, who had been left behind with the husband. In the middle of her pregnancy, the young mother had been diagnosed with a brain tumor, but rather than have her baby harmed by the treatments, Lydia had chosen to delay them until after giving birth.

  By then the tumor had spread to cover the top of her head; Lydia was stage four, end stage Cancer. They operated, then went for aggressive, simultaneous Chemo and radiation therapy.

  The physicians felt they had been successful. This trip west was to do tests to determine whether further treatments, if any, were necessary.

  Wow! No wonder she's so weakened. And I thought I had gone through a lot.

  "My tumor," Lydia revealed in apology. "Damaged the cognitive center of my brain. Normally, I can think of what I want to say, but can't get the words past my lips."

  "Well, you are doing just fine with me."

  "Yeah, that's what's so unusual. It's so easy with you; it's like you anticipate the words I want to say, before I have to say them."

  Gemma felt a cold draft run down her spine.

  I can't be reading her mind? No way!

  "But," continued Lydia, proclaiming optimistically. "I intend to be a survivor. I'll be back to raise my baby soon as these tests are over."

  "Way to go, girl! We don't give up. Just hang in there!" Gemma encouraged. "I'm a survivor, too. I just conquered my beastie."

  "Really?" Lydia smiled excitedly. "Oh, forgive me. I am so sorry. Here I've been talking all about myself, and not even considering what others might be going through. Were you going on a vacation, to celebrate?"

  Gemma sighed in disappointment. "Well...that was my original plan, but...I think the airline has kinda screwed me there. I just realized before we boarded, because of the time difference, my cruise ship is leaving port at just this moment."

  "Oh, my. What will you do now?"

  "Six months ago," Gemma stated. "I thought I had a death sentence; I couldn't even see how to get through my Chemo treatments. All around me were strangers, foreigners with different colored skin, unfamiliar belief systems, some with no belief at all. I realized, the only way I could survive was if I believed there was a personal God, a higher Power in control, and that He would do what's best for me. My maker got me through all that, even healed me...I'm sure, He'll help me through this one, too."

  "Oh golly, I wish I had your faith..."

  ****

  While they had been talking, the drone of the engines had changed in pitch. Gemma could feel it, a shift in position, as if the plane was turning or losing altitude, or even both.

  From two seats forward, a woman passenger began to irately address no one in particular.

  "What the heck is that stupid pilot doing? We are not suppose to be going over water. He just turned the plane, and we are heading out across the ocean. What on earth does he think he's doing?"

  Even the stewardess stood up to look. All over the plane, passengers in the aisle seats leaned over to peer out the windows. Gemma didn't need to do that; she had a window seat.

  Sure enough, it was true, they were now way out over water with no land in sight. The original plan was they were to cross over the middle landlocked provinces to get to the west coast.

  Is the man asleep...or drunk? Did he put us on auto pilot?

  This whole experience was beginning to take on the feel of unreality, like a dream sequence gone wrong.

  Maybe, I am still in the hospital? I'm in a coma, and this is something my own imagination has conjured up.

  Or maybe, I just dozed off in the airport terminal, while we were waiting for standby?

  The other passengers were now considerably upset, so the stewardess went forward to pound on the cockpit door, to find out what was really going on. After considerable time with no answer, she sought out help to push the door open.

  It was then Gemma realized, all the passengers were women; and there were no male attendants either.

  The heavy door was finally forced in...to reveal an empty cockpit. The plane was indeed on auto pilot, flying on its own.

  Where is it going?

  The pilot and co-pilot had been there at the beginning, and both had been male. When had they left the plane? And without being noticed...how?

  "We've been hijacked!" one of the other women cried out with a panicked voice.

  At the imagined implications, Gemma's heart began to pound; bile crawled up her throat, as the visions of being in terrorist's hands, hit home. She knew, once again, she was in a helpless situation where there was nothing she could do.

  Her mind went blank; she couldn't even think up a decent prayer.

  Oh, God...are you there?

  And suddenly, a calming reassurance flooded over her spirit; peace from...somewhere. She sat back against her seat, appearing calm and collected.

  "How can you be so unconcerned?" demanded Lydia. "Think of those who love us..."

  "I doubt anyone will even notice I'm gone," Gemma declared bitterly, thinking of Bella. "My sister didn't even care enough to visit me in hospital. No one will realize I'm lost."

  Only seconds later, while still in midair, the engines cut out. The nose of the plane started for the water. Screams immediately filled the confined space.

  Her heart was in her throat. Gemma held her breath, as if doing that would give her more minutes to survive.

  Lydia began to sob quietly.

  "My poor baby," she moaned. "And my husband. He's been so faithful all through this; at my side constantly. He wanted to come along, but I insisted that I'd be alright. He will be so devastated; he'll blame himself. Oh, oh! I'll never see either of them again."

  Gemma breathed in deeply, to calm her own rising trepidation. She had always had an unreasoning fear of drowning in water.

  Defying her own inner turmoil, calmly, Gemma reached over to fasten Lydia's seatbelt, and after that her own. Then covering the younger woman's hands, which were clasped tightly in her lap, she squeezed to reassure her.

  But, that only brought on the shakes. The woman's whole body convulsed as her sobs increased. Lydia grabbed at the offered lifeline, and like creatures buried alive would hang to a saving root, the two clutched hands until this should be over.

  Chapter 11

  The plane now sat on the surface of the water. Gemma could hear it gurg
le as it settled.

  Water inched over the wings...

  Inside, the passengers waited in silence, their screams choked off in their throats, as resignation to their fate took over. Gemma felt numbness spread from fingers and toes, to elbows and knees, as her pounding heart continued a staccato drum roll.

  The nose of the plane was the first to go under; slowly, inch by inch, the liquid rose to the windows.

  Foolishly, Gemma expected the intercom to bark out orders for them to evacuate.

  They are just going to let us drown?

  Water crawled up the windows, shutting away the sky; covering them; submerging them. As if in slow motion, the aircraft slowly slipped beneath the sea, going down, down, ever deeper, gliding as if descending on an invisible landing strip.

  Gemma could barely hold back her panic. Beside her, Lydia had fainted, yet even in her unconscious state, she clung to Gemma's hand, as if her life depended upon the junction between them.

  A tear escaped the corner of Gemma's eye; her sight was going fuzzy, as if the terror she was experiencing connected to the visual. Hyperventilating, she knew she could not hold out much longer.

  Submerged in the silent water, they floated lower, gliding down, as if directed in a planned landing. The bottom clunked against the seabed. Settling down on the sandy bottom, the plane creaked, gurgled. The sound of rushing water filled the confined space.

  Oh, God. Oh, God...be kindhearted to us...

  Gemma's panicked heart seemed to stand still; her mind drifted away in a fog of denial. Finally, mercifully, she joined Lydia, and the rest of the passengers, in the land of oblivion.

  ****

  Distantly, Gemma became aware of movement at her side; someone had released her seatbelt; was forcing her to stand. There were men all around them, urging them toward the exit.

  Lydia was already gone.

  At the doorway, an accordion-like, gray plastic, tunnel was attached to the frame. As they followed along this, you could hear the slopping of the water outside, feel the sway of the flexible tubing, as they traversed it, but most of the women were presently beyond fear, living only in a haze of unreality.