Zone

by Jack Lance

  ‘Good job!’ he shouted at the man.

  His relief and satisfaction intensified as he got to his feet. At other exits, passengers were jumping out of the plane one after another. Outside he could see the lights of three life rafts already at sea. Many people had indeed survived.

  Then something went terribly wrong. When a woman, dressed in black from head to toe tried to step into a rubber boat, she slipped and keeled over into the water. She quickly disappeared into the ocean depths.

  The Cessna pilot did not hesitate. He dived headfirst into the water and went after her. When he finally surfaced, he had his arm cradled around the chest of the spluttering and coughing woman. Those in the boat reached down and dragged them both aboard.

  ‘God bless that man,’ Aaron said softly to Jim.

  There were still dozens of passengers inside the cabin, among them a number of injured people. An elderly man with a white beard had taken a blow to his head and seemed confused. A young blonde woman with an ashen face pressed an arm against her chest – it must be broken, Aaron mused, or the shoulder dislocated. An old woman, breathing heavily, held both hands to her chest and seemed to be suffering from a heart attack. Aaron went to her aid.

  The plane suddenly bucked, and passengers started screaming. Aaron released the old woman, and as he staggered back to the exit door he bumped into someone who had nothing to hold on to and who was on the verge of being bowled over.

  The tail of the aircraft sank deeper, the weight of seawater pouring in lifting the front end of the hull higher. Aaron stood by the door with Jim. ‘I’m going back into the cabin. There are more people who need help.’

  Jim nodded. ‘Go ahead.’

  Aaron squeezed past the throngs crammed near the exit.

  The next two emergency exits, in section C, were no less chaotic. People were climbing on top of each other, screaming. Fistfights had broken out. Passengers were getting out, nonetheless. Soon everyone would be out.

  ‘Help!’ a voice called out, audible despite the din. ‘Somebody please help us!’

  In the murky glow of the few cabin lights that remained functional, Aaron saw several women still strapped in their seats. He made his way toward them. Sitting between a girl with a ponytail and a young brunette was a hefty older woman, her neck and chest stained red from blood running from her nose. She had an addled look about her. The young brunette had cried out and was now beckoning Aaron urgently.

  ‘I can’t get this woman to an exit,’ she shouted to Aaron when he was at their row of seats. ‘She’s too heavy.’

  ‘I’ll get her,’ Aaron yelled.

  He extended his hand toward the girl with the ponytail. ‘Come on. You stand over here for a moment, so I can help this lady.’

  She took his hand and dutifully rose from her seat.

  Aaron grabbed the hefty woman beneath the armpits and hoisted her up. He helped her toward the nearest exit in section C, shuffling backwards clumsily, as though he was dragging a dead weight. The brunette and the girl followed behind, their eyes wide with fear.

  At the door, Aaron had to wait until the remaining passengers had left the aircraft. Then Michelle and Joyce, who were overseeing the evacuation at this station the best they could, took over from him.

  ‘As soon as you’re ready, jump out,’ he yelled at them.

  Aaron now had a clear view into sections D and E. He noted that they were deserted.

  It had gone quiet. Now that nearly everyone had left the Princess, there were no more screams. The sudden calm made the cabin feel more like a tomb than the innards of a once grand aircraft. How much time had passed since the doors had been opened and the evacuation started, he could only estimate. It was probably no more than two minutes, though it seemed an eternity.

  Aaron checked his watch: 5:53.

  He heard water sloshing somewhere at the rear of the aircraft, indicating a breach in the fuselage. The mortally wounded Boeing 747 had not long to live.

  Making his way aft, he saw water gushing toward him. He searched for the breach but was unable to locate it. By now he was ankle-deep in water and the water was rising precipitously. It dragged at him with such force he had trouble maintaining his balance. Cabin luggage floated around and past him – duty-free bags, attaché cases, coats, shoes, soggy children’s toys – and amid that debris, the first dead body. It was a male floating face down along the aisle until his arm became entangled beneath one of the seats. The man’s torso twisted sideways, and his leg became jammed beneath another seat. The body rested motionless, seawater washing around and over it.

  Aaron looked askance and found himself staring into the eyes of another man who had died in his seat. He was staring up, open-mouthed, disbelief registered in his unseeing eyes.

  ‘Sir!’ Aaron yelled at him, knowing it wouldn’t do any good. ‘Sir!’

  The man remained silent.

  There was nothing Aaron could do to help him, and he couldn’t remain where he was.

  His thoughts returned to Sharlene. Although he still had not seen her, he remained convinced that she had not left the plane. It was a gut reaction, nothing more, but she had to be on board somewhere and his time to find her was rapidly evaporating.

  Desperate, he turned and started sloshing back through the rising water. By the door Jim Nichols was gingerly helping an injured woman, whose arm looked to be broken, into the life raft secured to the hull. Apparently she was the last passenger in the aircraft. Everyone else had been evacuated within less than three minutes. Only a handful of crew members remained on board.

  Outside, on the ocean, lights bobbing up and down with the waves indicated where the life rafts were positioned. Men at the oars paddled as far away as they could from the Princess. When she went down, the suction could take anyone nearby in the water down with her. Just as on the Titanic.

  As more water flooded into the tail section, the nose of the plane rose higher. By now, most of the midsection was submerged. Aaron and Jim, still inside the aircraft, had to brace themselves against the heavy listing.

  The last of the crew members were jumping out from the next exit. Greg Huffstutter and Ben Wright followed them. Only one lifeboat remained, and that was tied fast to the Princess.

  ‘You’re next, Aaron!’ Jim shouted.

  Aaron stared at his captain. ‘Where’s Sharlene?’

  Jim gave him an odd look.

  ‘What do you mean? Out there somewhere!’ He pointed out to sea, toward the lights on the boats.

  Aaron shook his head. She hadn’t left the aircraft. He had never been so sure of anything in his life.

  ‘Did you see her leave?’ he shouted at Jim.

  The passengers in the last life raft screamed. Their little boat was lifted so high on its rope attached to the Princess that the rope jerked taut and knocked several of them over just as another terrifying screech of tearing metal pierced their ear drums.

  ‘Jesus Christ Almighty, Aaron, we don’t have any more time!’ Jim roared. ‘The plane’s breaking up and the boat’s about to capsize. Get in the boat. That’s an order!’

  Aaron’s gaze swung from Jim to the passengers in the boat. Over the groans of the aircraft, he made up his mind.

  He grabbed Jim Nichols by the shoulders and pushed him into the life raft. Caught off guard, Jim landed on his back on the bottom of the boat. Before he could get to his knees, Aaron was untying the rope.

  ‘What the hell are you doing?’ Jim cried.

  Aaron said nothing. He gave the boat a shove and it floated away from the stricken plane.

  Jim kept yelling. ‘Aaron, you can’t do this! Aaron!’

  As the raft began to drift away, Aaron took a deep breath, turned around, and ducked back inside the plane.

  Forcing himself to implement his professional training and stay calm, he resolved not to leave the aircraft without Sharlene. He would not leave her behind to be swallowed by the Pacific Ocean and sink into its depths.

  But where to look for her? H
e had searched just about everywhere. For sure she wasn’t either on the main deck or upper deck. He had thoroughly combed through those areas.

  Still, she must be somewhere.

  It was 5:55 and the Princess was slowly slipping beneath the waves. Water pouring in from the tail section had reached his knees, and the water carried with it three more bodies. Two were women who looked as though they had been trampled, and the third was the body of a man in a yellow lifejacket still sitting in his seat with his seat belt fastened. Only the dead remained on board, Aaron thought grimly. He was the only one left alive.

  Is she dead?

  No, his heart told him she wasn’t dead. But his brain thought differently. After all, she could not have disappeared without a trace, and she would never have stayed behind voluntarily.

  Aaron’s heart pumped madly. This couldn’t be true. Not his Sharlene!

  Where to look for her?

  He needed to keep the flame of hope alive, even if for only another flickering moment before it was forever extinguished by a cascade of seawater.

  I’m going to search for her, just as long as …

  ‘As long as what?’ he asked himself aloud. As long as it took for this aircraft to disappear beneath the waves?

  Yes, he answered his own question. Without Sharlene, life was not worth living. Besides, the Boeing was still afloat. As long as it remained afloat, the flame of hope still burned. Aaron waded forward through knee-deep water, away from the emergency exits. It felt like climbing a steep hill. Further on, toward the nose of the Princess, the floor was dry. However, it wouldn’t be much longer. He arrived in First Class and saw no one there alive or dead. Still, he checked row after row, the toilet stalls, and the small galley. When a thorough search convinced him that the entire section was deserted, he cursed under his breath. He didn’t know where else to look. He wondered if he had time to go back downstairs. The water was rising more precipitously now. He felt like a man shipwrecked on a tiny island with a rogue wave poised to swamp it.

  So he had been wrong – everything hadn’t turned out fine after all. In fact, it couldn’t have turned out worse. He had lost the two women he loved and soon he would be joining them, wherever they were.

  He needed to hurry back to the emergency exit and, if possible, swim to the nearest raft. If the Princess didn’t sink before then, it could drag him under if he got out too late.

  At 5:58, Aaron started walking back toward the exit he had manned earlier with Jim. Suddenly he heard a sound that chilled him. It wasn’t metal tearing or warping. It was an animal sound, like the howling of a wolf – a growling, guttural sound, gradually intensifying.

  What in the world was that? Whatever it was, it set his nerves on edge and went on for perhaps thirty seconds before fading away. It was followed by more groans from the Boeing 747-400, as the tail end dragged the Princess deeper into the ocean. It couldn’t be long now, Aaron thought.

  In the ensuing silence, he heard another sound. It resembled the sound of a large animal charging, but he didn’t see anything. Whatever was producing those spine-chilling noises was coming up the stairway to the upper deck.

  Aaron made a decision not to leave the Princess. He had to discover the source of that god-forsaken commotion, whatever it was. He could only pray it would somehow lead him to Sharlene. Things had happened on board this flight that for the life of him he couldn’t understand. But these sounds were real. He had to follow them.

  It was the only card he had left to play.

  Aaron climbed the first few steps, and the noise abated. The stairway was pitch-black. He hesitated.

  Seawater was sloshing around his feet. If this was just an illusion he was chasing, it would be tantamount to suicide. Even if he found Sharlene on the upper deck, how on earth were they going to survive?

  It doesn’t matter, I’m going on.

  It wasn’t as dark in Business Class. There was a light on somewhere, but he saw no one – not man or woman or beast.

  The nose of the plane lifted higher. To stay upright, Aaron had to hold on to the headrest of a seat. Fleetingly, he entertained the insane notion that the cockpit instruments were magically being restored, as in a rewinding movie, that all systems were being reactivated, and that the Princess was rising up from the ocean like a phoenix rising from the ashes.

  Aaron lost his final remnants of hope when he heard what sounded like an explosion coming from the nose of the aircraft. Still, he hobbled toward it and, as he did so, he heard stentorian banging noises at short intervals, as though from a demolition ball. Then all was quiet.

  He reached the door to the flight deck, but found it closed – and severely damaged, as if a bull had rammed it. A bull surely hadn’t done this, but never mind that now. What mattered was why the pilots would have bothered to close the door behind them when they evacuated the flight deck as soon as the plane came to a standstill.

  Aaron pressed 1 on the code lock and then ENTER. Following that, a gong would sound inside the cockpit. If Sharlene was in there, she could open the door. Assuming she was able to.

  When he heard no response from the other side of the door, he punched in the emergency code 345 and pressed ENTER again. If the system still worked, the door would open automatically in thirty seconds. The time delay gave the pilots inside the cockpit the opportunity to override the code and keep the door closed. Those were the longest thirty seconds of Aaron’s life.

  The time delay ran out, but still nothing happened. It could mean one of two things. Either the system was down – a real possibility, maybe probability – or there was someone inside the cockpit intentionally keeping the door closed from the inside. But Sharlene would never—

  ‘Aaron,’ he heard a frail voice call out.

  He turned his head sharply.

  Beside him, sitting against the wall, was Pamela Drake.

  She reached out a festering arm, and when she spoke water sloshed from her swollen, peeling lips. ‘Help me,’ she said, her voice thin and fragile.

  Aaron stood rooted to the floor.

  ‘You’re not going to leave me, are you?’ she begged. ‘I can’t leave here. Please, help me.’

  More water poured from her mouth.

  Aaron’s flesh broke out in goose bumps. He was too stunned to say or do anything.

  ‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ Pamela continued. ‘I thought you’d come, but you didn’t.’

  He glanced back toward the cockpit door.

  Suddenly he was convinced that Sharlene was behind it.

  She was the only one who mattered. The apparition beside him was trying to prevent him from doing what he had to do.

  ‘Sharlene!’ he yelled.

  There was no answer.

  ‘Sharlene!’ he shouted again, louder this time.

  He waited, but still no answer.

  ‘I’m taking you with me. Both of you,’ Pamela growled. She sounded different now, like a cornered wolf. From the corner of his eye, Aaron thought he saw the drowned figure rising up, but he dared not look at her.

  A second passed. Another. And another. Fear and horror were paralyzing him.

  ‘Leave me alone, leave me the hell alone!’ a voice from behind the door shouted.

  It was Sharlene!

  Relief washed over him in waves, rendering him momentarily speechless.

  ‘Sharlene? Are you in there? Is that really you?’ he yelled. ‘Open up! It’s me, Aaron!’

  She didn’t comply immediately. Was she unable to? Was she hurt? Was there something in there holding her back, just as Pamela was trying to hold him back?

  He pushed against the closed door, rattled the doorknob, and pounded the metal plate separating them.

  ‘I can’t open the door from this side. You have to do it, Sharlene!’

  If she didn’t open it, and soon, they would be separated until they drowned. The door remained shut.

  ‘Open up! For God’s sake, if you can, open the door! Sharlene!’ he yelled, pounding th
e metal with his fists, feeling utterly powerless. A cockpit door, once locked, would not budge even if struck by a battering ram.

  He heard not another sound. His relief veered to fear. Mortal fear.

  It paralyzed him. Thoughts about death overwhelmed him. His own death, and hers. He’d done everything possible, but in the end it had led him nowhere. This Boeing 747 was going to be his grave. He’d be buried together with Sharlene – and the thing that looked like his sister.

  Time passed. He just stood there, as if frozen.

  Then a last cry, either of utter despair or frustration, rose from somewhere deep within him.

  ‘Open up, Sharlene. Hurry! We don’t have much time.’

  He pounded the door anew with his fists, but then dropped them again. If she wasn’t trying to open the door by now, then she really was incapacitated. She could never open it.

  What state was she in? What had she been through?

  More seconds ticked away. Long, agonizing seconds.

  Then Aaron heard a snarl beside him.

  Pamela, he thought.

  What happened next was too overwhelming to comprehend.

  Something, not him, pounded on the cockpit door with superhuman strength until it hung crookedly from its hinges and stood ajar.

  Aaron expected that Pamela, or whatever she was, would now break every bone in his body.

  He tried to squirm his way in past the warped doorframe. What else could he do? He was at the mercy of evil aboard the Princess, but he was here for Sharlene and he wanted to take her into his arms, even if it was only for a dance of death.

  Aaron stepped across the threshold and saw her.

  He also saw the axe slicing down at him.

  THIRTY-TWO

  The Axe

  The moment Sharlene saw the dark form in the doorway, she hacked down hard with the axe. Her mind went into overdrive. Suddenly she saw with crystal clarity, unburdened by the dark filter of her anxieties, that the person entering the cockpit was not some sort of evil force. It was Aaron, and she was about to split his skull open and spill his brains over the cockpit.