sights either of them had ever beheld. The pilot was slumped in his seat, having put up one hell of a fight before he died. Allen reeled around, his bulbous eyes glaring back at them, a crazed expression on his face. What lurked beneath wasn’t — couldn’t — be human. It was like Allen was half-man, half-zombie. Though he looked severely wounded, he wasn’t bleeding.
Raymond reached out and grabbed for Allen, who looked half his size in this small space.
“Idiots,” Allen spat, which seemed an odd statement from a man looking at the business end of Raymond’s fist.
But as Raymond advanced, Allen kicked a green syringe that lay discarded at his feet. With a surprising flourish of energy, Allen easily grasped Raymond by his neck, and the off-duty pilot sank to his knees. Drake tried to help Raymond out of Allen’s vise-like grip, but the pair struggled in vain.
Then Nicole arrived, putting Allen in a quandary. Keep his two assailants occupied, or deal with the teenage girl who had a serious expression on her face?
This was what Nicole had been hoping for — to confuse the hijacker enough to let Raymond get control and to allow her to get in close.
Sure enough, Drake noticed Allen’s momentary confusion and released his hand to punch him. Raymond then leapt for the control stick, but Allen was back on him in an instant. Drake made another desperate attempt to pull Raymond away, but Allen struck out with his backhand, swatting Drake down like a fly.
Gradually, and with mammoth effort, Raymond was still able to heave back the control stick. From the cockpit window, the all-too-close ground below veered away again.
But it was to be only a momentary comfort.
“Nooooooooo!” Allen screamed. He clamped his hands around Raymond’s neck.
Raymond choked his instructions to Drake, who leapt into action. Drake seized the controls, struggling to keep the plane’s course on target.
“Keep … it … steady!” Raymond cried through desperate chokes. How was it possible for this one guy to hold back two men?
“Step away from the flight controls, or I’ll kill him!” Allen screamed, spitting as he did.
“Don’t let go!” Raymond shouted. His lungs were seizing up as the pressure of the hijacker’s fingers crushed his neck. It was as though Raymond knew he had to be willing to sacrifice himself.
With the plane back on a more even keel, Nicole found she didn’t have to steady herself anymore. She simply had to focus.
She observed Allen in his crazy, drug-induced state as he was watching the last strands of life drain out of Raymond. She thought of all the people on the plane who had put their trust in the crew to get them to Florida safely. This man, this hijacker, had no right to be there.
She felt the hate in her heart. She would use this to Balance.
From her pocket, she produced the black-and-white image of the newlywed Janet Hofmeier, the happy young bride so full of life, and then her groom, Ed, so proud in his best suit. She imagined this photo of Ed with a burn hole in his chest area, like an X-ray of a cancerous bulge — something that needed extracting. She could do this — she could give this part to Allen and swap it out for the health left in him. Then she could Balance that to Ed.
The hijacker didn’t notice the freckled teenager reach out her hand and clasp it toward him. He was too busy enjoying the pain and the reddening face of the pilot who had been stupid enough to take him on, while also attempting to stab the hulking teen. He didn’t see how tightly she had shut her eyelids, nor how she was concentrating so hard that she felt like her head would burst.
Nicole conjured the horrible cancerous mass in Ed and imagined it appearing in her palm. She felt its weight, and its disease. The astonishing pain arrived. This, then, was how it felt to experience lung cancer. It was terrible, agonizing — even held like this, away from her body. How could Ed stand it? She could barely
Raymond reached out and grabbed for Allen, who looked half his size in this small space.
“Idiots,” Allen spat, which seemed an odd statement from a man looking at the business end of Raymond’s fist.
But as Raymond advanced, Allen kicked a green syringe that lay discarded at his feet. With a surprising flourish of energy, Allen easily grasped Raymond by his neck, and the off-duty pilot sank to his knees. Drake tried to help Raymond out of Allen’s vise-like grip, but the pair struggled in vain.
Then Nicole arrived, putting Allen in a quandary. Keep his two assailants occupied, or deal with the teenage girl who had a serious expression on her face?
This was what Nicole had been hoping for — to confuse the hijacker enough to let Raymond get control and to allow her to get in close.
Sure enough, Drake noticed Allen’s momentary confusion and released his hand to punch him. Raymond then leapt for the control stick, but Allen was back on him in an instant. Drake made another desperate attempt to pull Raymond away, but Allen struck out with his backhand, swatting Drake down like a fly.
Gradually, and with mammoth effort, Raymond was still able to heave back the control stick. From the cockpit window, the all-too-close ground below veered away again.
But it was to be only a momentary comfort.
“Nooooooooo!” Allen screamed. He clamped his hands around Raymond’s neck.
Raymond choked his instructions to Drake, who leapt into action. Drake seized the controls, struggling to keep the plane’s course on target.
“Keep … it … steady!” Raymond cried through desperate chokes. How was it possible for this one guy to hold back two men?
“Step away from the flight controls, or I’ll kill him!” Allen screamed, spitting as he did.
“Don’t let go!” Raymond shouted. His lungs were seizing up as the pressure of the hijacker’s fingers crushed his neck. It was as though Raymond knew he had to be willing to sacrifice himself.
With the plane back on a more even keel, Nicole found she didn’t have to steady herself anymore. She simply had to focus.
She observed Allen in his crazy, drug-induced state as he was watching the last strands of life drain out of Raymond. She thought of all the people on the plane who had put their trust in the crew to get them to Florida safely. This man, this hijacker, had no right to be there.
She felt the hate in her heart. She would use this to Balance.
From her pocket, she produced the black-and-white image of the newlywed Janet Hofmeier, the happy young bride so full of life, and then her groom, Ed, so proud in his best suit. She imagined this photo of Ed with a burn hole in his chest area, like an X-ray of a cancerous bulge — something that needed extracting. She could do this — she could give this part to Allen and swap it out for the health left in him. Then she could Balance that to Ed.
The hijacker didn’t notice the freckled teenager reach out her hand and clasp it toward him. He was too busy enjoying the pain and the reddening face of the pilot who had been stupid enough to take him on, while also attempting to stab the hulking teen. He didn’t see how tightly she had shut her eyelids, nor how she was concentrating so hard that she felt like her head would burst.
Nicole conjured the horrible cancerous mass in Ed and imagined it appearing in her palm. She felt its weight, and its disease. The astonishing pain arrived. This, then, was how it felt to experience lung cancer. It was terrible, agonizing — even held like this, away from her body. How could Ed stand it? She could barely
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