Note to reader: When you read this, make sure you read it slowly and take your time. Otherwise the story sounds rushed.
Slow, steady air sibilating beneath me. Bullets darting past me, speeding like the sound of light. Screams from innocent civilians indicating that it was only a matter of time before I was next. It was death, and it was inevitable. I felt it, right around the corner, almost like it was apologizing in advance.
I accepted my fate, knowing that if i’m going to die, I better die with the satisfaction of a heroic death. I wouldn’t let my life go to waste. I had to do something with it. My father would always call me a disappointment, and now I felt it. He was right. I’ve done nothing these past nineteen years to prove him wrong. But now it’s time to start.
Quietly I walked out of the bathroom which is where I camped for the last half an hour.
“I would save whoever is still alive,” I thought.
My ego now reaching an all time high. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins as I ventured forth, and as I did, I saw something no man would ever want to see.
I saw mass murder. Bodies. Bodies everywhere. Nothing more than once a white scenery now painted red with the blood of the victims. My body now charged with despair.
“I’ll be one of those bodies soon,” I murmured.
My once heroic ego was now faded completely. There was no living thing on this plane. Nothing to save. Nothing to run too. It was just me and a couple of hard-hearted homicidal terrorists.
This phrase made me collapse. I leaned up against the wall next to me. The only surroundings were two deceased bodies. One seemed to be a middle aged man around his forties, and a woman who also seemed to be of the same age . What stood out the most was that they had almost an identical blood stain on both bodies. They were both located on the upper chest.
As thoughts scurried around my mind, footsteps start creeping in front of me.
It had to be the killers. At this point death was unbeatable. It was now that I, Jamani Jacobs, would cease off this world.
Flashbacks of my childhood were starting to take place. My twin brother and I would swim in the creek beside our house. My twin, Jason, was always better at things then me. My dad always looked at me as a the lesser version of him, but despite him one upping me on everything, I still loved him. I loved him to death actually. In fact he was one of my favorite people on this planet. He was the only real friend I ever really had. The only person that I could actually speak too. He was supposed to go on this vacation with me, but college exams were this week for him. Fortunately enough, he didn’t or he’d end up in a inexorable, barbaric death like I will.
The footsteps grew substantially. I accepted death, welcoming it, holding my hands out for it to come scour me off my feet. I smiled as the men got closer. I could see them but they couldn’t see me. The men were almost to me before something grabbed my leg.
“Psst,” The body beside me said.
“Quick, rub this on your chest”
The middle aged man pointed to a puddle of blood besides the women. I looked at him again. His eyes were shut. He looked as peaceful as can be, keeping a steady breathing pace, calm and even. Slowly I grabbed a handful of blood and rubbed it across my chest. I squinted my eyes slightly so it looked like my eyes were closed although I still had clear vision of my peripheral so I could see the men walk by.
It worked. The men walked right by.
Moments of silenced past.
¨Thanks,¨ I said.
No response answered. It almost seemed as if the man was actually dead. I said it one more time, expecting the same outcome. The man shot up from his deathly pose and spoke angrily, ¨Can you just please be quiet? It will be dark in the matter of an hour, we can speak then. Just please don't blow our cover.¨
I checked my watch… The man was right. It was quarter past six.
I was glad the plan worked. After all, my death would result in failure. But I was still stuck on the plane, Helpless like a fly trapped in the heart of a spiders web. The only way i'd get off this plane was outsmarting them. At least the aspect of being alone was gone, for I almost felt secure with the man still alive.
The man was very intelligent, and I respected his nature for common sense. Any human could figure out that lesser visibility is easier for converse in a survival situation, but when panicking it’s almost impossible to think strategically. In situations like these, he seems to stay calm and collected, making him a more viable thinker.
I still had an hour, so I thought why not do what the man was doing? It was obvious. He was acting like he was dead but in reality he was probably sleeping. After thinking over the thought, I still realized that the men haven’t walked back yet. Meaning they were still past us, down in the luggage hold. I had no idea what they were planning to do down there but all I knew is that it was too risky to close my eyes completely for all my vision would be disabled.
I decided to do what I had done before and squint my eyes too an almost closing point, just in case one of the killers came in contact with me.
As time clocked I checked my watch gradually, keeping track of every minute that went by. And after about a ten amount limit, I started to hear footsteps coming from the other direction this time. I managed to stay cooler than before because of the fact that playing dead had succeeded in keeping me alive. I followed the regular procedures but I was almost already in position. The only change I had to make was taking my arm out instead of tucking it in. Therefore making me look more “dead”. But I would soon find out that this could’ve been the biggest mistake I had ever made. While the man was walking, my arm was in his pathway. With him not paying attention, the man steps right on my wrist, sending excruciating pain throughout my arm. I defeated the temptation of yelping and continued to act dead. After he stepped on my foot, he just stood in a place besides it. I could sense him looking at me. I could not make any sudden movements or else it would be the end. Instead of him examining me closer, it seemed of his only interest for the watch that was on my wrist. It was the Rolex-Cosmograph Daytona, my grandmas watch before she passed. He loosened it off my arm and carried about his day.
“Fine.” I said.
Pleased with the fact that that's all he cared about. I seldom wore it anyway.
This hour was the most bold and unpleasurable hour I have ever been in my entire life. Laying on the uncomfortable floor, curled up behind a chair, squinting my eyes for the second out of two killers too walk by. The second killer never did walk by, which means he’s still down there. The plane was very complex and large. Probably twice the size of a regular one.
As the visibility grew dimmer, I got more anxious to speak to the man. Although I had no way of telling time, I still would know of the right time to speak, and it wasn’t long. I would say at most twenty minutes.
It wasn’t long from my estimation before it was black as the darkest night. Finally, I thought. It couldn’t of taken longer. Before I could say anything else, the man quickly asked me, “do you have your phone? and don't ask any questions.”
I told him I simply have it but it is dead and has been for many hours.
He responded, “that's fine. Hand it here.”
I quickly shoveled it out of my pocket and handed it to him. He gave me a brief explanation of what he was going to do. He then asked me if it was alright if my phone was not going to be accessible after.
“Sure.” I said not knowing what was going to happen.
He said that he's going to use our phone to see if he could spark a signal big enough to alert other aircraft stations using Morse code. I had no idea on how he would manage this, but I did what he asked and didn't ask questions. I could barely see him but what I did see was him pull out a knife from his back pocket and a Contraption from his bag. He hooked up the phones, cut the wires and then started to make sparks. Minutes went past where sparks were flying. I was somewhat concerned that this could blow our cover. But after all this machine was fairly quiet. The man went at it for a while and finally gave up.
“I can't create a signal to get far enough… we're in the middle of nowhere, just like they drew up.” He stated in despair.
I was absolutely puzzled, but still- I was not going to upset the man by asking dozens of questions. The man handed me my phone. The back was cut out and wires were springing out, stretching inches back. It’s not salvageable so I might as well just let him keep it. Afterall, once we get in range he could try again. I handed it back to him and he quickly shuffled it back to me.
“I don’t need it anymore,” he stated.
I quickly replied, “Can’t you try it again once we get in range?”
The man looked at me solemnly.
“No. Unfortunately that process drained the rest of your battery permanently. So even if you plug it in it would still be impossible to recharge.”
An angry but formal expression disseminated across my face. Not because of my unfixable phone, but because we were still stuck on this plane. I was for sure that the man’s method would’ve worked, for I find myself having loads of faith in him. But it wasn’t his fault that we were out of range.
We sat in silence for minutes. I decided it was time that I ask questions, but before any words preceded my mouth, the man said..
“Wait here, I have to grab something.”
The man swiftly sat up. Still crouching, the man waddled out of visibility. I contemplated following him, but I decided to stay put. While I was there I thought about what the man said.
“Just like they drew up”.
That phrase shifted in my head multiple times. What did he mean? I wanted answers, but asking him was a long shot. The man seemed to be a secretive man. Suspicion seemed to tote about him from head to toe, but still he seemed somewhat trustworthy. This is then where I realized his quite large and hefty bag was right besides me. I unzipped the first zipper to the smaller pocket and I found something somewhat disturbing. Although it was only bullets it still had an aroma of evil, like this man was one of them… One of the killers.
I now was quickly opening the second zipper, and the only thing in there was a somewhat small case for the size of the pocket. I took out the case and unclipped the hinges, I opened the top and what I saw made me even more uneasy. It was a pistol, with two muzzles besides it, a brake, and a silencer. Now, feeling hope departing right out of my body, I opened the third pocket. At first all I could see out of the minimal vision was the contraption he used to try to escape, but once I took it out, there was clothing under it. I didn’t think much of it, but once I pulled them out I found out it was a heavily armoured vest, a ski mask, and a firearm belt.
Then it hit me. That’s the exact same outfit that the men were wearing.
I threw everything back into its rightful place and zipped it back up. A strange sense of anger spread through my thoughts. Almost like I was betrayed. I decided to sit back down.
“I’m a fool,” I whispered.
It wasn’t long before the man returned. He brought with him a couple of pieces of paper.
“What’s in the bag?” I asked.
The man sharply replied, “nothing.”
“No,” I looked at him scarcely. “What’s in the bag?”
“Don’t worry about it,” the man whispered.
“Oh really? How can I not worry about it when you have the same outfit as one of them with a firearm and ammo besides it?” I said angrily.
“I can explain,” he said.
In retaliation to all of this, I quickly tried to strike the man. Cocking back my fists while putting full force ahead of me trying to end it all. The man ducked and sharply and returned the favour, striking me in my nose. We sat in silence while just staring at each other. Waiting for a next punch. I cocked back my fist and was ready for another go at him, but before I struck, the man said,
“Wait, let me explain this whole situation...”
“Try me,” I said. Now knowing that whatever comes out of this guys mouth was almost always false.
“I was going to be their third man but I couldn't go through with the plan. They have a bomb down in the luggage hold and when it detonated it would take us including all the innocent civilians.”
“But the civilians are dead already,” thinking that he was telling another lie.
“Yeah, because of me. You see, when I told them I couldn’t go through with the plan, they retaliated in killing everyone. Because they thought I might of told them,” he stated.
“I was supposed to watch the bomb with Austin while Harry flew the plane. Now i’m guessing that there is only one down there.
“Why should I trust you?” I said questioning him
“Because I helped you this far,” the man appointed.
The man had a good point. If he was so “evil” I would’ve probably been dead by now. I decided to trust the man once again.
“Now, how are we going to get rid of this bomb?” I asked.
The man replied, “I was thinking that I would press the flight attendant call button to distract them so you could run down there and cut the wires.”
“Alright,” I said nervously. “What do I have to do?”
“Here, take this.” The man handed me a knife. “Just remember this order. Purple, purple, green, green, yellow, blue, blue, yellow. Cut the wires of the bomb in that order.”
The man clicked the button on top of the seats and quickly ran and hid. I felt somewhat left alone since he left me with such a heavy burden with minimal instructions, but I had somewhat of an idea. I tucked up against the wall and waited for the bomb-watcher to pass by, searching for the thing that pressed it. And it wasn't long.
He walked past me not even for a second thinking I was there.
I hastily but quietly walked down to the luggage hold. It was bright down there, so I could locate the bomb, and it didn’t take long. But once I looked at the timer, I wouldn’t take long. I had a minute and thirty-four seconds before explosion. I fought off panicking for I remembered how the man could think better when he was calm. I cut the wires in the specific order. Purple. Purple. Green. I looked at the timer.
Now I started to panic, for I found every next wire was harder to cut into-
Ten- Blue… Blue...
And as I was cutting the last yellow wire… the bomb exploded. The blast flew me back to the wall. We were going down. And we were going fast.
As we were falling, I remember screaming one thing as my life was folding right beneath me.
“GOODBYE YOU SADISTIC WORLD!”