Flight 666 (Moment of Death) Read online

  “What are you looking at?” Atherton snapped. The man smiled, then turned away.

  “Please, Mr. Atherton,” Evy said. “Think about your blood pressure. Please come sit down.”

  Evy led him back to his seat and made sure he was buckled in, then got his medication from her handbag. “Take a couple of these and try to relax.”

  Atherton downed the pills and closed his eyes. He was drained of energy, drained of everything except the cold rage burning like a big lump of dry ice in his gut. He tried to sleep. It was no good.

  The sudden roar of a crowd startled him, and he jolted upright and opened his eyes. His jaw dropped. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of men in business suits were seated in semicircular rows in front of him. He was sitting on a metal chair in the middle of this smiling throng, in some kind of hotel ballroom or large meeting room. Atherton heard some microphone feedback and turned around. There was a lectern behind him with a man standing at it. “Welcome to Big Gabe’s Free Your Anger Workshop,” the man said into a microphone.

  The audience began clapping as Big Gabe pumped his fists in the air as if he’d just scored the winning touchdown or hit a grand slam in the bottom of the ninth. The throng of businessmen shouted and whistled and stamped their feet. When they finally settled down, Big Gabe brought his hands together as if he were praying and nodded to the crowd while mouthing the words, “Thank you. Bless you.”

  What new hell is this? Atherton wondered. Whatever it was, he’d had enough of it. He was leaving, and if anyone tried to stop him, they’d be eating a knuckle sandwich for lunch. He began to stand up, but a hand reached out and shoved him back down into his chair. Atherton turned to tell off whoever was manhandling him, but all he saw was a skull staring back at him. Startled, he fell out of his seat and sprawled onto the floor.

  The crowd laughed at him.

  “Mr. William Atherton, welcome to my show,” Big Gabe said. “This is your lucky day.”

  The crowd laughed and cheered.

  “What am I doing here?” William asked. “How did I get here?”

  “Please sit back down, Mr. Atherton,” Big Gabe said sweetly.

  Atherton felt blood pulsing through his temples as he glared at Big Gabe. “Go to hell!” he shouted.

  The crowd booed.

  “Temper, temper,” Big Gabe tutted, wagging a reproving finger at Atherton. “Looks like you arrived at my Free Your Anger Workshop just in time.”

  The crowd rose as one and gave a standing ovation. Atherton wanted to throttle every last one of them. He looked out at the applauding audience and sneered at them. Then he gasped. The crowd was peppered with familiar faces, a Who’s Who of people who hated him. There were employees he had fired, former associates he had eased out of the company, other businessmen he had swindled. There were janitors he had insulted, friends he had turned against, and family members he had abandoned. And they were laughing at him. Their laughter filled him with ire. But it also gave him a feeling of satisfaction. Their behavior proved how deserving they had been of his previous actions toward them. The stinking no-account losers had richly deserved their miserable fates at his hands.

  The laughter from the audience changed to boos and insults, further enraging him. An overripe tomato arced toward him, just as someone shoved him back into his seat. The tomato smashed his face and splattered down over his white shirt and tie. He tried to get back up, but he couldn’t. More tomatoes and rotten fruit were whizzing toward him, and they all found their mark. After a five-minute barrage, he was stained and dripping and shaking with fury. But now a hint of fear mingled with his anger.

  The audience stood up and began clapping. Atherton heard the sound of doors creaking open, one on his right, the other left of him. Two women entered the room and joined Big Gabe. Atherton felt the blood drain from his face as he stared at them. One of the women was Evy, his assistant. The other was a passenger on his flight, a statuesque and stunningly beautiful woman named Mary.

  The two women strode to the back of the stage and parted the curtain, revealing a big gaming wheel, partitioned into sections filled with wording.

  “You all know the rules of the game,” Big Gabe said into his microphone as Evy set a fishbowl on a table next to the lectern. “Your names have all been engraved into pebbles, which my assistant, Evy, will begin drawing out of the fishbowl.”

  Atherton watched Evy plunge her hand into a suddenly enormous fish tank. Colorful koi swam about as her fingers touched the bottom and the water reached her shoulder. She plucked out the first pebble. Atherton stared as the biggest albino catfish he had ever seen swam toward the front of the aquarium. The fish was gazing at him as if it had some kind of creepy intelligence.

  Atherton stared at the loathsome thing and thought about what it would be like to fry it alive in a big sizzling skillet. Suddenly the catfish began to dissolve and transform, and Atherton found himself staring at a white skull floating in the tank. He jumped and fell off his chair again. The crowd roared.

  Evy handed the pebble to Big Gabe, who turned to Atherton. “Get up, Willie, the games are about to begin.”

  Someone pulled Atherton to his feet, but he had to hold the back of his chair to steady himself.

  Big Gabe looked at the pebble in his hand and then looked out toward the audience. “The first contestant is—drum roll please.” The roll of a snare drum filled the air, but there was no drum to be seen. “Glennnnn Reeeeed!”

  The crowd went wild as Glen Reed, a man Atherton had once terminated from his position with the airline, bounded onto the stage.

  Reed shook hands with Big Gabe as Atherton looked on, stunned. The last time he’d seen Reed was in a restaurant in New York, when he had sucker punched the stinking extortionist. It was a supremely satisfying moment—the jerk still bore a scar on one corner of his mouth—but the corrupt scumbag had sued, and Atherton had wound up in a courtroom on the losing end of a lawsuit.

  “Are you ready to spin the wheel, Glen?” Big Gabe asked Reed.

  “I was born ready, Big Gabe.”

  “You know the rules, Glen. Spin the wheel to see how you get to pay back this mean old bastard for all the pain and suffering he’s caused you.”

  “Actually, he’s not caused me much pain and suffering. In fact, he’s made me a rich man, Big Gabe. I’ve stuck it to that old coot in more ways than one. Only thing I never got to stick was his daughter, but hey, there’s still time.”

  The crowd went wild with laughter as Atherton seethed.

  “Didn’t Atherton fire you?” Big Gabe asked.

  “Yeah, he did!”

  “Spin the wheel!” the audience shouted.

  Reed spun, and a hush fell over the room as the wheel turned and turned and slowed and finally stopped.

  Big Gabe read the words below the arrow. “You landed on Stab William Atherton in the eye.”

  The crowd roared as Reed clenched his fist and shook it in the air.

  Atherton felt himself being grabbed from behind as Big Gabe’s other assistant, the woman named Mary, pushed a big wooden chair on wheels to center stage. The men holding Atherton picked him up and slammed him into the wooden chair. They strapped his wrists to the arms of the chair with leather straps and tightened other straps around his chest and legs. Atherton tried to fight back, but it was no use. He was bound tight.

  Evy handed Reed an ice pick, and the crowd went wild again. Reed raised it over his head and waved it slowly back and forth as the crowd cheered. Reed smiled and approached Atherton, ice pick in hand. Atherton wriggled against his bonds, but he couldn’t move. The room darkened and spotlights clicked on, aimed at Atherton. He was quaking with fear, and he could feel his blood pressure rising.

  “Leave me alone,” Atherton croaked, sealing his eyes shut against the horror. The men grabbed him by his hair, forced his head back, and placed a strap across his forehead. He screamed as someone pulled his eyelids up and threaded a fishhook through each one. He felt a tug on each eyelid. He could no l
onger close them.

  The crowd cheered.

  “Left eye or right eye?” Reed asked as Atherton struggled to loosen his bonds.

  Atherton just whimpered.

  “Just kidding,” Glen said before stabbing left, then right, then back again as if he were poking holes in the tops of a tin can. Atherton’s screams turned to cries as tears and blood flowed down his face.

  “Whoa now, cowboy,” Big Gabe cried. “You were only supposed to do one eye. Now little Willy can’t see what’s coming next. Looks like you’ve been disqualified.

  The crowd booed as Glen left the stage.

  Atherton continued to wail, and he felt his nerve endings releasing little bursts of electricity where his eyes used to be.

  Evy pulled another pebble from the fishbowl and handed it to Big Gabe.

  “The second contestant is—Jonathan Venger!” Big Gabe yelled.

  Atherton’s heart sank. Jonathan Venger was his former partner, a useless drudge who Atherton had forced out. Last he heard, the man was penniless, and deservedly so.

  “Go ahead, spin the wheel, my friend,” Big Gabe said.

  Atherton heard the wheel spinning, heard the crowd quiet down as they waited for it to stop and reveal the next atrocity. The wheel slowed and finally ceased turning.

  Big Gabe read the verdict. “Congratulations, Jonathan, you get to order a major hedge fund to short Atherton Airlines stock!”

  The crowd cheered.

  “No!” Atherton yelled. Even as the most excruciating pain he’d ever experienced was pulsating through his shredded eye sockets, he felt another kind of pain and fear—the fear of poverty.

  “Why are you doing this to me?” he cried out.

  “What goes around comes around,” Big Gabe replied. “Just like our big wheel.”

  “I’ll be broke,” Atherton sobbed.

  “Dead broke,” Big Gabe replied, and the crowd screamed its approval.

  Big Gabe turned to Evy. “Next contestant, please.”

  Evy pulled another pebble and gave it to Big Gabe, who read the name out loud.

  “The next lucky person is—Terrance Sully!”

  “Didn’t think I was gonna get a turn,” T-Sul said as he walked onstage.

  Atherton recognized the voice of the man who had bothered him on the airplane. “Why are you here?” he asked. “I didn’t do anything to you.”

  “You insulted me,” T-Sul said before giving the wheel a spin. The crowd waited quietly until the wheel stopped and Big Gabe read the verdict.

  “Whoa, I was hoping to get this one myself, and I’m betting Glen was too.”

  “Read it!” the crowd screamed.

  Big Gabe shot the audience a mischievous smile. “Mr. Sully got Make a porno with William Atherton’s daughter.”

  The crowd yelled with delight.

  T-Sul smiled, walked up to the blind man, and put his hand on his shoulder. “She’ll know who her real daddy is tonight,” he whispered before walking off the stage.

  “I’ll make you pay,” Atherton screamed at T-Sul, then he turned his blind eyes toward the audience. “I’ll make you all pay!”

  Laughter mixed with a round of boos from the audience.

  Atherton began to swear at them. “Those fools deserved what they got,” he shouted. “They’re a bunch of losers.”

  “Uh oh,” said Big Gabe. “That temper is what got you into this mess, little Willy.” He turned to Evy. “Let’s have our final contestant.”

  The final contestant was Atherton’s daughter, Sarah Loth.

  “Don’t do it, Sarah,” Atherton begged.

  “You cut me off, Daddy. You made me do bad things just to live, and I’ll pay for that tonight. But first I’m going to pay you back.”

  Sarah spun the wheel and everyone waited.

  Big Gabe yelled in excitement when the wheel stopped. “Sarah, you’ve hit the mother lode. You landed on Put daddy’s head in a vise.”

  Atherton’s anger changed to fear as he heard metal wheels scrape across the stage. He felt cold metal brush his ears and then press against the sides of his face. He heard the sound of a crank being turned, and the plates began to squeeze. “Please, Sarah, please. You can come back home. Please don’t do this.”

  The crowd roared as his daughter kept turning the crank. He gasped in pain, and his nose began to bleed. The pressure built, and he felt his skull crack open, felt his brain being squeezed out like a ball of clay in a child’s fist, and then he faded into oblivion.

  On the airplane, William Atherton slumped in his seat as his head rolled to the side.

  Evy Noel sat quietly in her seat next to her boss, William Atherton. Knowing his blood pressure was dangerously elevated, she had slipped a heavy sedative into his usual concoction of prescription drugs, figuring sleep was the best remedy to lower his blood pressure and extinguish his anger.

  She glanced at his sleeping form and noticed a small crimson dot forming above his upper lip. Atherton had a history of nosebleeds, which is why she always kept a pack of wet wipes in her handbag. She took one out now and quietly dabbed his nose clean. She always made sure she had whatever he needed.

  Unfortunately, the angry old fool was likely to blow his gasket before she got the promotion she’d been waiting so long for. If he croaked before then, she’d never get noticed. Story of my life, she thought.

  A flight attendant stopped at her row. “Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine,” Evy replied. “It’s his blood pressure. It skyrocketed after the incident with Mr. Sully in first class. Actually, it started earlier when he had an altercation with Mr. Sully over a seating arrangement. But it’s all settled now. A bit of sleep and he’ll be as good as new.”

  The stewardess smiled. “If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “On second thought, I could use an extra pillow for his head,” Evy said.

  “Be right back,” the attendant replied.

  Evy stared at Atherton and sighed. She’d been his faithful personal assistant—servant, actually—for five years, and she deserved that promotion, deserved as big a promotion as he could give her. She was his secretary, his scheduler, his advance person. She wrote his correspondence, smoothed over the bad feelings spawned by his anger and resentment, and made his excuses when he changed his mind or failed to keep a promise. She was his gatekeeper, his key advisor, and his “date” at countless industry events. She even got his morning coffee and sometimes picked up his dry cleaning.

  She never complained, despite the delayed promotion. She enjoyed her proximity to the great man, basked in his reflected glory. She wanted to be like him, and she could be if he’d give her the chance. He hated to be seen in public, but she relished it, loved being the face of Atherton Airlines whenever she was called on to do so. She loved the spotlight, and she wasn’t afraid to admit it—to herself.

  Evy was not only a kind of substitute wife but also a substitute daughter. She thought about his real daughter, Sarah, who had been Evy’s roommate for a short stint years ago. Rooming with Sarah had been Evy’s only lucky break in life. Sarah had been her ticket into Atherton Airlines. But it was Evy who had punched that ticket by seducing Sarah’s boyfriend and then blackmailing him into persuading Sarah to help Evy get the airline job. And it was Evy who had made the most of that job. But what had all her efforts brought her? After five years, her official title was still administrative assistant. Not executive secretary. Not vice president. Not even personal assistant to the CEO. Just a lowly administrative assistant. How long would she have to wait for the promotion she deserved? And what would her next title be? Vice president sounded right.

  She knew she could run Atherton Airlines as well as William Atherton, probably better. She thought about owning a company called Noel Airlines. With her business savvy and her energy, she’d turn it into the leading airline in the world. But there was no Noel Airlines.

  She wondered why she had never been the lucky one, why she could never ge
t what she wanted. Her life had been a collage of disappointments. She’d been surrounded by winners and made to feel like a loser. Her sister, her best friend, her cousins, bosses, and work acquaintances, everyone around her had ascended their ladders, whether they deserved it or not, while she stood staring up at them from the bottom rung. Administrative assistant. Sometimes she felt as if someone had put a curse on her. She knew she deserved better.

  The flight attendant returned with the pillow. She reminded Evy of her twin sister, Ivy, who had become estranged from Evy the day they graduated from high school. Ivy had caught her in bed with her boyfriend of four years at their graduation party. For once in their lives, someone had preferred Evy to Ivy, and Ivy couldn’t deal with it. Ivy had no right to be upset. She’d had all the advantages growing up and Evy had nothing. Ivy was popular and people thought she was smart and witty. She hung out with the in crowd at school and got the best guy. It should have been Evy.

  She still remembered the night she had wrecked her sister’s relationship with Gabriel, who Ivy likely would have married. She’d heard Gabriel had become a doctor. Evy could have been a doctor. She was smart enough, and she had enough drive. She’d just never had the chance.

  She turned and looked as someone sat down in the aisle seat next to her, where Terrance Sully had been sitting earlier.

  “Hey, beautiful,” the man whispered as she stared at him.

  She felt her insides flutter. Someone had noticed her.

  “Name’s Glen Reed,” he said. “They call me G-money.”

  “Hello G-Money,” she said as she smiled. “Are you flirting with me?”

  The man laughed. “No, doll, I just wanted to know if the man napping next to you was William Atherton. I used to work for him.”

  The airplane dipped as it hit a pocket of turbulence. The seatbelt light came on, and an announcement directed all passengers to return to their seats and buckle up.

  Reed stood up and winked at Evy. “Tell your boss that Glen Reed says hello.”

  Evy watched him walk toward first class. He was chuckling as if he were enjoying some inside joke.