freezes, and all she can do is nod, her mouth half open. She is terrified but focused as she releases her harness and pulls for the emergency life vest under her seat, quickly sliding it over her head. She takes a deep breath and tries to calm her nerves, before standing and addressing everyone within earshot.
“Can I have your attention please? It is imperative that you put on your life vests immediately. They are located directly under your seat. You do not need to inflate it. It will do so automatically when it comes in contact with water.” This announcement is met with confused chatter. Evelyn, unfazed, continues.
“You must then buckle your lap belt followed by your shoulder harness. When you are secure, pull your overhead compartment down into the locked position. After impact, unlock your station by pressing the red button on your control panel and release your belt and harness. Leave the shuttle through one of the four exit doors nearest you and swim as fast and as far away from the shuttle as you can and look for the life tubes.”
Evelyn sits down and follows her own instructions.
Meanwhile, Noah moves briskly down the aisle, scanning the rows of passengers. He senses a calm spreading through the cabin, reinforced by a sprinkling of laughter. He can’t share in their relief. Where are the flight attendants, he wonders, his eyes darting back and forth, scanning nuance after nuance of human interaction.
He searches for the faintest clue that the shuttle is under a terrorist threat. He is momentarily caught off guard when he makes eye contact with a young woman peering over her station in the row opposite him. Noah’s mind, which he has trained to work as a mental filing system, is capable of recalling thousands of people in the blink of an eye. He has never met her before, he is certain, but she looks at him as if she recognizes him. He keeps moving toward the exit of Section Two, determined the girl poses no threat. As he passes into Section One, he encounters a huddled group of flight attendants treating a few of their own staff and a passenger who were hurt during the free fall.
One of them raises his left hand to halt Noah’s advance. “Sir, there is no reason for you to be in this section. If you need assistance, I will send an attendant to you. Now please, go back to your seat.”
A loud bang from the front of the shuttle sends Noah into action. With the attendant distracted, Noah grabs the man’s left hand and pulls it hard sending him flying behind him. He makes a beeline to the cockpit door. Only inches from the intended target, another shot is fired. Noah knows the sound of gunfire better than anyone.
The cockpit door is ajar, but the moment he grabs the latch, he is thrown hard to the right and slammed against the wall. Noah holds on to the door latch for dear life as the shuttle nosedives yet again. The ship hurtles downward for a second time, but now the power is cut off. If not for the emergency lighting, they would be hurtling to earth in total darkness. Passengers and crew scream as time seems to pass in super slow motion. The shuttle has straightened in its fall, forcing the cockpit door to swing away from the wall, while Noah keeps a death grip on its handle.
He peers inside the cockpit but his view is fleeting, obscured by a shadowy figure barreling straight toward him. He instinctively reaches for the man’s arm and the inertia of the man’s fall throws both of them down the fuselage and crashing violently against the partition wall between the two sections. Noah, now pinned against the far wall, looks toward the cockpit and sees the pilot and co-pilot, their bodies rocking ever so slightly, lifeless arms dangling over their heads as if descending on a roller coaster ride.
He turns his attention to the man he fell with and notices he is wearing civilian clothes. Noah assumes the man was an air marshal. Was because a large part of the man’s skull is missing and he is clearly
Learning to Kill: Stories