by Tim Moon
The chair moved again. A low growl emanated from what was supposed to be a dead guy.
Ben peeked his head up a little to see over the top. He was definitely moving.
“I thought you said he was dead?”
“He is.”
“Was. He’s definitely moving,” Ben said.
Another growl, and then the man stood. An airline blanket someone had placed over him slid down off his head. His skin was pale and blotchy, his mouth contorted into an angry snarl.
“What the shit?” Ty’s surprise mirrored Ben’s.
The woman squealed again.
The man turned toward her and lunged. In fear, she swatted at him. He just snapped his jaws at her.
Ty’s hand shot up to press the flight attendant call button. Ben wasn’t sure what Ty thought they’d be able to do, but maybe the crew had a plan to deal with crazy people that had returned from the dead. Ben remembered hearing somewhere that flight crews received self-defense training in case of terrorist attacks. Maybe they had also talked about something like this.
The man leaned his substantial weight into his wife, pushing past her reflexive defenses. Another piercing scream cut through the noise of the engines sending a wave of chills through Ben.
“We need some help back here,” Ben shouted, as if the woman’s scream hadn’t done enough to grab people’s attention.
He stood up and leaned over the seat back.
“Hey, asshole. Get off of her.” Ben shoved the man’s shoulder.
The once dead man ignored Ben, and the woman continued screaming. The guy leaned his head back, chewing something, and Ben realized he had been literally, ripping flesh from her body. No wonder she was screaming so awfully.
“Ty, move. We gotta help this lady.”
Ty didn’t say anything but he got out into the aisle with Ben right behind him. As they stepped into the aisle, a man came running toward them from business class.
“Federal Air Marshal, step aside,” he said, raising a badge.
“Right there, he’s biting her,” Ben said dumbly, pointing at the row, as if the marshal couldn’t tell where the noise was coming from.
The air marshal reached in and grabbed the man by the collar, yanking him up like a kitten. Unlike a kitten, the man growled and waved his arms like a maniac.
Something splattered on Ben. He wiped his face, his hand coming away red with blood. Bile burned the back of his throat. He stepped back and bumped into Ty.
The poor woman wasn’t screaming anymore. Now she just moaned pitifully. Ben’s stomach knotted up at the thought of her blood splattered on his face.
With a smooth motion, the marshal forced the man to the ground in the aisle. He placed his knee in the middle of the man’s back and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. The marshal struggled to grab both of the man’s hands, they were slick with blood.
“That’s so disgusting,” Ty said.
“No doubt,” Ben said, nodding in agreement.
With the dead man finally handcuffed, the marshal stood him up and forced him toward the exit row. One of the flight attendants cleared the row of passengers, moving them toward the front of the plane until she could find them seats.
As the marshal placed the man on the floor, the dead woman on the other side of the cabin woke up and began biting the passenger next to her. Yelling and screaming broke out again. Gasps of shock rippled through the cabin as passengers stared wide-eyed at the scene unfolding before them again.
She was across the four-seat center section and five rows ahead of where Ben stood in the aisle, but he could clearly see what was happening.
One man tried to push the woman off her victim. She snapped and bit a piece of flesh out of his bicep. He gasped in pain and stumbled back a couple of steps in the aisle. Cradling his arm he ran toward the back of the plane. To Ben’s surprise, the dead woman swallowed the piece from his arm whole, barely chewing at all. She wasn’t just biting people, she was feeding on them.
“Oh, my god. Did you see that?” Ben said to Ty. His heart raced, and he wiped his damp palms nervously on his shorts.
Like a deer caught in headlights, Ben was frozen in the aisle, mesmerized by the gruesome sight.
The air marshal quickly finished hog-tying the man, then he stood and bounded down the aisle toward business class. He cut across to the other side of the plane when he reached the mid-cabin restrooms. The marshal grabbed the woman roughly and pulled her out of the row of seats, throwing her into the aisle. Her blue t-shirt was stained red. Enraged, she turned and launched herself at him.
They grappled in the aisle, bumping into other passengers who squealed and cringed in their seats. A couple of people got up and moved toward the back of the plane, while several others moved toward the front to get out of the way.
Unwittingly, the marshal bumped into one of the frightened passengers, which knocked him off balance. The crazed woman pushed forward, snapping her jaws and slamming the marshal against the bathroom wall.
The marshal’s hand slipped off her shoulder as he fought to keep her snarling face away from his throat. She took advantage of the slip and tore a chunk off of his forearm. Bright red blood squirted onto her face, as the marshal bellowed in pain and tried to shove her away. Blood splattered on the wall as they continued to struggle.
The marshal was finally able to knee her in the stomach and shove her back, creating some space to maneuver. Knowing he was in mortal danger, he pulled his gun out and fired two shots into her chest.
Everyone seemed to jump in shock. The sound of the shots was deafening in the enclosed space.
The woman stumbled back. Her arms flailed, slapping passengers and leaving bloody streaks on their faces like war paint. When she regained balance, she started back at the marshal. What should have killed her had barely even fazed her.
He fired again. She kept coming.
A look of panic flashed across his face as the woman barreled into him, forcing him toward the front of the plane. They tumbled to the floor, falling out of Ben’s sight, as panicked passengers clambered to get out of the way.
Ben could tell the struggle was not going well for the marshal. He was losing a lot of blood from his arm and no one had stepped in to help him.
Without realizing what he was doing, Ben rushed up the aisle and cut through by the bathrooms so he could come up behind the woman and pull her off the marshal.
Just as Ben reached the woman and grabbed her shoulder to pull her off, another shot cracked the air. It happened so fast that he couldn’t even react.
The woman’s hair puffed out, tickling Ben’s cheek. Something wet slapped his face, and a piece of something flew off the back of her head and hit the overhead bins.
Glancing back, Ben saw streaks of blood and gray chunks on the overhead compartments.
Her body went limp, falling from his grasp. It was as if all the fight in her had poured out of the hole in her skull, spilling into the aisle.
Ben stood there numbly.
He looked down at the woman then at the marshal.
Frightened eyes stared at Ben over the barrel of his gun. Ben was suddenly unsure what to do or why he was even there and not in his seat. He raised his hands slowly and stepped back.
Ben’s head swam and he had to grab the seat next to him for support.
3
October 8 | Near Honolulu, Hawaii | 1908 Hours
BY THE TIME Ben made it back to his seat and buckled in for landing, the island had come into view on their side of the plane.
The side of Ben’s face was raw from scrubbing the woman’s blood off in the cramped space of the bathroom. Despite washing, his cheek still tingled from where the woman’s hair had brushed him. Bright lights and tall buildings revealed Honolulu in the distance. The plane tracked along one edge of the island before banking hard to the right and lining up to land.
The cabin was electric with nervous energy. Some people were crying.
Several passengers were injured. The flight attendan
ts had moved them all to the last row, by the rear galley, so the doctor could treat them without being in anyone else’s way.
The body of the woman had been moved to the same exit row as the man the marshal had hog-tied. She was buckled into the window seat, with a blanket over her face to hide the gory sight from passengers. The marshal untied the man’s feet, forced him into the aisle seat, and a flight attendant helped him duct tape the man to the chair. They’d even taped his mouth shut because he continued trying to bite them as they worked. Then the marshal took the crew seat in the exit row, facing the perpetrators.
People kept glancing their way.
Ben tried his best to ignore them as he stared out of the window, but he could almost feel their gazes. Patches of white sand and turquoise bays dotted the island’s rocky coastline. The island’s green interior stood in glorious contrast to the ocean, the whole picture looking like a blue cloak studded with a giant emerald.
Ben found it almost impossible to process everything that he’d just been a part of. This kind of thing wasn’t supposed to be possible.
Somewhere, the twice-dead woman had a family. Right now they were probably sitting at home thinking she was safe and on her way to Hawaii for a vacation. They had no idea what had happened to her. His eyes welled up, but he fought to hold back the tears.
Ben couldn’t help but wonder what would happen when they landed? He’d never heard about this kind of thing, and the woman was a foreigner after all. Would she be embalmed in Honolulu? Or would she be sent home as she was?
He imagined the customs officer’s face at the sight of the dead woman. How the look would change as the officer realized the amount of paperwork that would have to be filled out.
Of course, Ben realized how strange these thoughts were but he couldn’t help it.
After what seemed like ages, the plane finally landed.
As the plane taxied down the runway, the pilot made an announcement that due to the circumstances, the plane would not be going to the gate. Instead, all passengers would deplane near a warehouse that had been setup to receive them, with medical personnel and grief counselors standing by.
Ben could see several ambulances and fire trucks with their lights flashing outside a building. Half a dozen police cars and two large, black SUVs had been parked near the open doors of the warehouse. Light from inside the warehouse flooded out onto the tarmac, illuminating at least a dozen officers who stood in the fading daylight, waiting for the plane to come to a stop.
Another chime, and an announcement was made telling everyone to remain seated until the pilot turned off the seatbelt light. Injured passengers would be evacuated from the rear of the airplane, while everyone else exited normally.
Finally, the seatbelt light turned off and the passengers were allowed to collect their belongings and deplane. As Ben and Ty exited, they noticed that everyone was being ushered into the warehouse.
“What do you think this is all about?” Ty glanced around nervously.
Ben shrugged. “Questioning, I guess.”
As he entered the warehouse, Ben saw hundreds of metal folding chairs lined up near the front of the building. Further back in the warehouse, under bright portable flood lights, were two large sections of white partitions that broke up the space into little cubicles, like an impromptu office. It looked like a scene from a police drama.
Looking back toward the airplane, Ben watched as EMTs escorted the last of the injured passengers, including the marshal, to the waiting ambulances. After they’d cleared the way, a pair of officers with FBI on their tactical vests went aboard wearing blue rubber gloves and medical masks and removed the handcuffed man from the airplane.
In front of the chairs, where Ben and Ty had taken seats, stood a stern looking man in a suit and a woman in doctor’s scrubs. As passengers continued to file into the warehouse, one man started getting belligerent, asking why they were being detained.
“We aren’t criminals. We have rights!” he shouted angrily.
A gruff, booming voice rose above the commotion.
“Sir, please sit down, and we will explain everything.” Ben saw that it was the stern looking man talking. “I’m Agent Markham of the FBI. If you can all have a seat and quiet down, I’ll go over the procedures.”
The disgruntled passenger quieted down but continued muttering under his breath. As soon as everyone had taken a seat, Agent Markham introduced himself again and also the woman standing next to him – Dr. Martinez. Everyone aboard the flight, excluding those already on their way to the hospital, would be going through a “brief individual health screening” according to Agent Markham. The screenings were being coordinated by Dr. Martinez, after which they’d be debriefed by law enforcement officers.
A ripple of discontent ran through the crowd.
Ty groaned. “This is going to take forever, man.”
Ben shrugged.
“Once you’re cleared through medical and have given your statements, you will be free to collect your baggage. For those of you continuing on connecting flights, the airline has agreed to reschedule you on the earliest possible flight at no additional cost. If you cannot board a connecting flight tonight, you will be given free lodging at a nearby hotel. If you would like to speak with a grief counselor, please notify the officer you give your statement to. If you have any questions, the airline representatives will be happy to help you. We appreciate your cooperation,” Agent Markham said, with a nod to Dr. Martinez.
Her voice carried surprisingly well through the warehouse. It seemed clear to Ben that she was used to taking charge.
“We will be starting in alphabetical order by last name,” she said, looking up from her clipboard. “Everyone please listen for your name to be called so we can keep things moving. Thank you.”
As Ben waited for his name to be called, he noticed that a few more people from the group of Chinese tourists were coughing softly. One of the people that Ben had assumed was a tour guide appeared to be translating the announcement. Ty seemed to notice the coughing too, and he shot a look at Ben.
“If I start coughing like that, let my Mom know I love her, okay?”
“Shut up.” Ty punched him on the shoulder.
Ben couldn’t help but crack a nervous smile. It felt good to break the tension he felt. He thought again about how long they’d been on the plane with the dead people and hoped neither of them would get sick.
“Ben Chase, come with me please,” a woman’s voice said. A tall, thin nurse smiled at him as he stood and pulled on his backpack and grabbed his roller bag.
He glanced down at Ty. “Wish me luck.”
“Good luck.”
The nurse led Ben to a small cubicle-like space for his health screening. She began by asking him a few general questions and then checked his blood pressure. Before she was done, a doctor came in. He was short and overweight. He didn’t even introduce himself, he just got started checking Ben’s eyes, ears, nose and throat. He took a cheek swab and listened to his heart and breathing.
Ben tuned out as they went about their work and thought about the beautiful beaches that awaited them on the Big Island. Before he knew it, the nurse told him they were finished.
She led him to a new cubicle where a police officer sat at one of those cheap folding tables you see in employee break rooms. A notepad and pen sat in front of the officer next to a half-filled paper cup of coffee.
The officer didn’t look up or stand, he simply gestured to the chair. Ben set his bags down and sat across from the officer.
Luckily, there was no awkward interrogation. The officer asked a few simple questions, then listened as Ben recounted what happened with as much detail as he could remember. He glanced up curiously a few times as Ben recounted what he’d seen, and the paper on the notepad quickly filled with the officer’s notes.
Once Ben finished, the officer asked a few follow-up questions and then they were finished.
“Thanks for your cooperation, Mr. Chase. We
’ll be in touch if we have any more questions,” the officer said. “The airline has re-booked your flight and they have your ticket at the gate. Go to the right and you’ll board a shuttle bus that will take you to the terminal.”
“Okay great, thanks.”
Ben glanced down at his watch as he followed the officer’s directions and went to the right. In all, the process had taken just over an hour.
Not bad.
October 8 | Honolulu, Hawaii | 2147 Hours
“HOW DID IT go for you?” Ty asked as he finally joined Ben at the gate. It’d taken Ty another hour after Ben had finished.
“It was a lot quicker than I expected. But right now, what I want is to get to Kona and get out of the airport. Today has been way too crazy, and I want to forget as much of it as possible.”
“No joke.”
The evening warmth filled the terminal making Ben thankful that he’d worn shorts and a t-shirt. Honolulu’s airport was open-air, a unique design that he hadn’t seen in most other warm weather airports. Rather than wasting money on air conditioning, the design let the trade winds blow through to keep things relatively comfortable.
“I love the fresh air in here,” Ty said.
“Much better than that smell on the airplane, that’s for sure.”
Compared to the hot and ridiculously humid summer they’d suffered through in Korea, Hawaii was definitely a pleasant change.
They didn’t have to wait long until their next flight, it had been timed almost perfectly. An announcement signaled that it was time to begin boarding. Since the airline had given them a complimentary upgrade to business class, they boarded early. They found their spots across the aisle from each other, and eased into the comfy seats. Quite a change from the crowded coach seats Ben was used to.
“This is great.”
Ty smiled. “Hell yeah.”
After the trauma of their last flight, Ben was glad this was a short leg. In less than an hour they’d be landing on the Big Island. Of course, they still had to get the rental car and swing by Walmart for water, food, and other supplies. Then they’d drive to the Mauna Kea Visitor Center, where they’d take a short nap in the car, giving their body time to acclimate to the elevation before their hike. But at least they’d be there.
