Chapter One

“I’m never doing this again.” Rebecca thought to herself as she stared at the seat just inches in front of her. The idea that people should be so far from terra firma sent a shudder through her entire body. The passenger plane lurched slightly to the left and her hands gripped the armrests of her seat even more tightly. She had that chair in a death grip. It had been forty-three minutes since the plane had left the ground and by now any trace of blood flowing through her knuckles had long since vanished. Her hands were whiter than blank sheets of copy paper. Each finger held on to the chair for dear life, as if such a gesture could possibly save her in the event that something happened.

Rebecca’s looks were pretty average. At thirty-five, she was a little overweight for her short stature. She was also beginning to show that forty was a lot closer than she was willing to acknowledge. She was thankful for the dim lighting in the cabin. At least no one could tell how terrified she really was. Not that it mattered anyway since most of the people on the plane were asleep.

Manager of import sales was her new title but she didn't feel any different. Two years and several long nights at the office had given her the promotion she so desperately sought. Of course every good thing has a down side and hers happened to be travel. At least it’s not every other week she thought. She cursed herself for saying yes so quickly.

Since she was to be traveling during the night, she thought she would be able to just sleep through it. That idea had flown out the window with the first signs of turbulence. She let go of one of the hand rests and moved the pillow from her lap to behind her head. She shifted in her cramped seat to try and get somewhat comfortable or whatever facsimile would substitute on a passenger airliner filled to capacity.

She glanced around the cabin. From her vantage point, most of the passengers were asleep. Either unaware or not caring that the plane could fall from the sky at any moment. It appeared to her that she was quite possibly the only one on board with some sort of problem. She looked at her watch briefly. “I can do this.” She told herself half-heartedly. “Only fifty more minutes and I’ll be in the terminal filling claims for my lost bags.” She joked. She closed her eyes in a futile attempt to wish it all away, at least for the next fifty minutes.

Drake Lang slowly made his way down the aisle. He reached for one of the passenger seats to his side to balance himself just before the plane shuddered slightly from turbulence as if anticipating it. He was a good-looking man in his late twenties and was dressed in a designer business suit. His dark brown eyes complimented his jet-black hair and even under his sport coat it was obvious that he worked out regularly.

Ahead of him, a flight attendant approached on her way toward the back of the plane. He stopped and turned sideways to let her pass. The awkwardness of the moment causing a nervous smile to escape from them both as they passed. “Excuse me.” Drake said with genuine innocence. The stewardess smiled back but said nothing although she would have liked to have talked to the attractive passenger over drinks in the airport lounge.

He continued his journey and stopped next to Rebecca. “I’m sorry to keep waking you up.” He said.

Rebecca crunched her knees close to her body to let him by to his window seat. “It’s no problem, really. I wasn’t sleeping anyway.” She smiled.

Drake moved around her as best he could within the tin can conditions and sat down in his seat. “Thanks.” He said.

“Not at all.” Rebecca returned. The plane shook again and Rebecca’s fingers immediately supplanted themselves to their respective molds on her armrests. There’s going to be indentations of where my hands were on this chair when we land. She thought.

Drake pulled up the shade to his window and peered out into the dark sky outside. He noticed the faint outline of storm clouds off in the distance, only visible briefly as lighting escaped them in its search to ground itself. He thought to himself how beautiful and yet destructive such things in nature could be. A few seconds later the thunderclap reached the plane.

The sound of thunder, accompanied by another pocket of turbulence forced Rebecca to respond the only way she knew how. The armrests under her hands were getting very uncomfortable from all the sweat pouring from her hands. She tensed her arms.

Drake turned and noticing the action, smiled slightly. ”It’s just a little turbulence, that’s all. It shouldn’t last too long.” He said.
She smiled nervously at him.
“Not a frequent flyer?” He asked.
“What ever gave…you that idea?” she replied nervously, pausing as the plane shuddered again.
“You really shouldn’t worry.” He responded. “I fly all the time. You get used to it…really.”
“All the time?” she asked.
“I’ve probably logged more time in the air than the pilot.” He quipped.
Sarah smiled and the tension left her body slightly. “Are you a pilot?”
“In a way, yes.” He replied.

Another crack of thunder echoed off the outer hull of the plane. Rebecca looked at Drake and he smiled back reassuringly. He then turned toward the window again to focus his attention on the sky.

He seemed to be looking for something just beyond his reach. Something outside that was just out of sight, in the darkness. Another smile passed his lips. Drake closed the window shade and taking a deep breath, turned to Rebecca. He said in a soft, reassuring voice, “It’s time.”

Rebecca looked at him quizzically. Drake turned back to the window. She stared in disbelief as Drake began to disappear. She could clearly see the window through him as if his image had been projected on the wall. His figure then silently slipped through the hull to the outside of the plane! Rebecca's arms left their safe perch and instictively flailed in his direction as if she were trying to save him. All she grabbed were handfuls of empty air. Rebecca looked around at the other passengers hoping that someone else had witnessed the fantastic event with her. Everyone within her line of sight was asleep. She thought that perhaps she was sleeping also. How else could she account for what had just happened.

She looked over at the empty seat then to the closed shade. She reached over and slowly lifted it.

Much to her horror, Drake clung to the wing of the plane. The wind had pressed all his hair back and his clothes whipped the air violently as he hung on.

Rebecca wanted to get help. She turned for the call button but was drawn back to the incredible scene on the wing. She couldn’t push the button. A flash of lighting and thunder brought her back to her senses. She motioned for the button. Just then another pocket of air rocked the plane violently. She shrunk back into her chair, afraid. Both hands grasped the chair for dear life. She opened her eyes, turned her head and forced herself to look out the window again.

Lightning flashed across the sky as the plane finally reached the storm clouds. Rebecca could barely make out Drake’s form on the wing as the plane raced in and out of the storm finally losing him as the clouds continued to swallow them all. The plane lurched to the right momentarily. She looked around the cabin as several annoyed passengers shifted in their seats attempting to go back to sleep.

“I’m never doing this again!” She mentally repeated to herself, this time meaning it.

Rebecca turned back to the window and slowly peered out. The clouds began thinning just enough for her to make out Drake’s form. Something else then caught her eye. There were two people on the wing and they were fighting!

Rebecca closed her eyes and melted into her chair again, trying to will herself out of this situation. The only logical option that her mind could entertain was that she was crazy. A shudder went through her.
Great, if a person thinks they're crazy that means they aren’t she countered. I’m sure I read that somewhere.

Her mind frantically searched for an explanation as the plane began to noticeably shudder and shake. The seatbelt sign chimed on and several stewardesses rushed down the aisle trying to get the food carts stowed.

When the lightning hit, the entire cabin screamed. There was a loud explosion somewhere outside Rebecca’s window and the plane began to lurch then fall in that direction. She kept her eyes closed as things began to spiral out of control.

This is it! I should have never taken the job!

Seven hours later…

Jim ran down the hospital corridor as fast as he could without falling. The floors were waxed daily and had a high sheen to them that his reporter salary dress shoes were not made for. He reached the end of the hall, turned the corner and entered a small auditorium style room. He could barely squeeze in the door since it was standing room only and he had not been quick enough, damn shoes. The room was filled to capacity with reporters from all major, and quite a few minor, news organizations.

Doctor Sundjay entered the room and walked to the podium.

“At approximately 1:32am the first victims from flight 5632 began arriving to not only St. Mary’s but other area hospitals as well. Of the victims, all but one, have died from their injuries. The only survivor of this horrible tragedy appears to have no injuries of any kind and will be discharged in a few hours. I’ll take your questions now.”

The room exploded in a flurry of voices as each reporter attempted to jockey their question to the doctor first. Someone in the front of the room, reserved for ‘respectable journalists’, took the lead.

“Doctor, can you tell us the name of the survivor?”

“I have been advised not to disclose that person’s name at this time.”

Jim silently left the room and threw his press badge in a hallway garbage can as he made his way outside to his car. Once inside he pulled his cell phone out and pushed a pre-set number.

“Hey, It’s Jim. I just came from the press conference. Do you have the name?”

Jim waited a few seconds then repeated what he had heard as he wrote it down.

“Rebecca Janes. Got it. Thanks.”

He disconnected the call and dialed a second number. The line picked up almost immediately.

“Looks like we got her. She’s in room 392, third floor of St. Mary’s.”

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Continued in Chapter Two...


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