Bentley Ketchum paced along the thoroughfare of the baggage area and considered murder. He was in the baggage area when he heard the men upstairs, talking to the captain, flight attendants and passengers. He heard the clicking of their rifles, the sounds of their fingers sliding over the round bodies of hand grenades, and he could smell the scotch that came off their breaths as they spoke of their demands and their grotesque pictures of freedom to the frightened people. Anyone working with the airline could�ve come in and seen him. However, he would simply tell them he was lost or that he ran into the elevator once the men started screaming about Allah. He never strayed too far from the baggage area whenever he flew. He wasn�t the kind to trust someone else with his belongings or the big wooden box he was hauling with him or any of his clothes. Some of those clothes were expensive, even down to the black suit, slacks and shoes he wore now. The jewelry could�ve made a pawnshop owner swoon with joy, but to Bentley Ketchum it was all rings and necklaces and bracelets and cufflinks and nothing more.
He wished someone would come and see him in there. Then he could come up with some way to take charge of the situation, and then maybe after things calmed down he could eat. He looked at his watch and grimaced. He had a few hours, and God knows what timetable the men upstairs were working on, maybe less.
Bentley looked up and heard their footsteps. There were three, but he could do it. He�d have to do it by himself. He didn�t want anyone to see him do it. Damn medals and heroes crap. He�d have to be clandestine about it.
* * * * * * * *
Kareem Aziz and his two older brothers, Ahmed and Noah, had taken the airplane just as they had planned, with speed and intellect. No one ever said parts of a gun could not come on board an airplane, and Kareem created the grenade at home. He had the right chemicals for it. You could even bring a machete or a chainsaw on board if you wanted to. Even if you didn�t bring anything on, you could always pay a baggage handler to smuggle it on for you.
Ten minutes earlier, Ahmed and Noah went to the bathrooms and put their guns together. Ahmed got out his machete and his homemade grenade and went straight to the cockpit. He shut the door and locked it. The pilots knew to do as a terrorist told them to, so they had no interest in a fight. All they could do was their best and hope no one got hurt.
His brothers shot a two people and announced their superiority. Ahmed stood on the edge of the first class cabin, and Noah watched over the people in coach.
Noah heard the elevator humming as it came up, and he veered away from his post to see who was in it. He opened the door and saw a rat looking up at him. He smirked and took out his knife, letting his rifle hang loose at his side by the strap wrapped around his shoulder. He bent down to grab the rat but it moved fast, and he couldn�t get agrip on it.
He began to sweat.
He stepped into the elevator and shut the door. When he turned to look where the rat had been, he didn�t see a rat. He saw a man staring at him. The man still had the rat�s whiskers, the tiny black eyes, its teeth and its tiny stubby fingers.
�Diablo-� Noah said. The fingers found his neck and snapped it.
* * * * * * * *
Ahmed stood at his post, looked down at where his brother was supposed to be, but didn�t see him. He waited for a few minutes, thinking maybe his brother was in the bathroom, but more and more it seemed obvious to Ahmed that something was wrong. He walked down the aisle and called out his brother�s name in Arabic.
That was when he saw the bat flying straight at him. He felt the knick on his neck, and he knew the bastard had bit him. He swung himself around and saw it flying. He couldn�t shoot because a bullet in the ceiling or through a window would be disastrous. He attempted to follow it into the kitchen but his legs felt heavy. He dropped the gun and the floor came up to meet his nose. Looking up, he saw the bat fly into the kitchen and swoop down to his level. Then he saw the bat change into a man, and the man whispered, �Every bat, even from birth, has an anesthetic in its saliva. When it bites, it numbs the pain. But sometimes you do get to feel the pain and then go to sleep. Turkeys have an anesthetic in their flesh. It�s why bats don�t bite them.�
Ahmed tried to say something but the man interrupted him. �Shut up,� he commanded. Then he grabbed Ahmed�s body, turned him over onto his belly, put his foot on his tailbone, and grabbed his arms from the back and pulled up, snapping him in half.
* * * * * * * *
Kareem had smelled something burning. He saw the smoke filtering in from under the door, and throwing it open, looked, and saw neither Ahmed nor Noah standing in the aisle. He did see one of the hostages running out of the kitchen with a bowl of flaming rags and pouring his bottle of water on it to put it out.
Kareem screamed their names. �NOAH! AHMED!�
He had the advantage by staying in the cockpit.
�They�re dead!� One of the hostages screamed. �Somebody screwed these two guys up! They�re dead!�
Kareem shut the door and thought of what to do. He was on his own. Allah would welcome his brothers. He could still free ��his other�� brothers.
He reached down and grabbed the intercom to talk to the hostages.
�Ladies and gentlemen,� he said. �I still have control of the plane, and I�m not afraid to blow it up! Don�t force me to pull the pin! Stay in your seats!�
He backed up to the door, preparing to see them charge the cockpit and retake control. He bumped into something else, something more solid, and turned around, machete pulled back over his shoulder, murder in his eyes, and he saw a man.
Before he could ask a question, the man had the machete in his grasp and Kareem�s hand was empty. He still held the grenade. When Kareem went to pull the pin, the man ripped it out of his grasp, tore off the fuse and tossed it to the floor, rendering it useless. He slid the machete under his coat.
�Who are you?� Kareem asked, fear lacing his voice.
�Passenger 313,� The man calmly replied.
�The United States Government has��
�The United States Government isn�t on this plane! I am!� The man shouted. �You don�t kill people who have nothing to do with your struggle! It has done no good in the past! Why would it do you any good now?�
�Who are you?� Kareem repeated.
�My name is Bentley Ketchum,� The man said as his eyes closed.
When they opened again, they were red like the fires of hell.
�And I�m hungry,� the man added. He had his teeth in Kareem�s neck before the Afghan could blink. The vampire accepted the blood in a rush of ecstasy. Bentley felt his heart pounding inside his chest as if he were riding a roller coaster or making love to a woman. It wasn�t just adrenalin, it was a strong sense of peace that filled him, and once he got his fill, he reached up and snapped Kareem�s neck at the base. He let him fall to the floor, pale and lifeless, and Bentley looked down at the pilots.
�The machete man left and you didn�t see anything,� Bentley said. �Got it?�
�What?� One of them asked. He was shocked.
�You didn�t see anything,� Bentley reiterated. �Understand, Bill Wright of Connersville, Ohio? Husband of Elizabeth, Father of Matthew?�
Bill took this as a note that this man, this Bentley, knew where he lived.
�It all happened out in the aisle,� Bill said. The other pilot nodded.
�So what are you?� he asked. �A�cannibal?�
Bentley grabbed him by his face, squeezing his cheeks together tightly. �Shut up and land the plane.�
And then he walked back into the cabin and shut the door.
* * * * * * * *
Minutes later, the flight emptied. Passengers and flight attendants stood out in the blistering downpour of snow. It was the biggest blizzard in Milwaukee�s history. After careful inspection, the airport security officials noted that the plane was in good shape. There were a few bullet holes in a few seats, and two casualties, but the terrorists were dead, and no one saw anything. Homeland Security would inspect the plane and it would be re fueled and sent back up into the air with all of its passengers and the baggage intact, especially the big wooden box where Bentley Ketchum slept, his demonic belly full.
