Snakes Off A Plane

  

  It was another hour before Varjak arrived with James. 

  Kate had sat in same seat, watching the airport fill up with people. She didn't even register the man hovering over her. 

  She came back into focus, and looked up at him. 

  It was neither Varjak or James. It was a round-faced guy. He had large, Russian blue eyes and mid-length, messed caramel hair. His lips were perfectly poised in thin structure. 

  He looked sharp in a red leather jacket, a white Abercrombie polo and jeans. 

  “Are you alright?” asked the guy. He was about twenty, not too far from Kate’s age.

  Kate was thinking too much to respond. Her panic had increased tenfold since the guy had spoken to her. 

  “Y-Yes, thank you.” She outstretched a hand. She’d never done that in her life. “I'm Kate. Who are you?”

  The boy flinched at the gesture. Then, he composed himself.

  “I'm Ian Miller,” he replied, a polite smile on his cherub face. He did not shake her hand. “Would you like to go for a coffee or something? You seem quite down.”

  Kate felt her eyes narrow, but she rearranged her expression to vacantly kind. If he knew that she suspected him, that was it. 

  Although, this was probably already it. 

  Then she considered. An airport full of people, lots of security around...Wouldn't someone notice if this guy dragged her off? 

  “No thanks, I'm waiting on a friend.” She was forced to swallow vomit.

  “Oh, come on. Someone as beautiful as you shouldn't need to wait on anyone,” said Ian. He held out a hand for her. 

  “No, sorry, I don't think I should.”

  There was a draught at her side - she barely registered it, her eyes ahead. 

  Then she jumped, as cold gripped her arm, and breath landed on her neck. 

  “I want you to move forwards at a normal pace. Don't turn around, don't make any gestures to anyone. Do you understand? I want you to go outside and wait at the gate next to the runway.”

  Ian's movement had been incomprehensibly fast. 

  Kate never stood a chance. 

  A finger jabbed into her back, guiding her. 

  Where was Varjak? What was taking him so long? Despite Ian's orders, her movement slowed, hoping that even the extra few seconds would give her more time. 

  But the finger stabbed her back again, and a familiar English accent hissed in her ear. 

  “Don't slow down. If you do, I'll direct you to the bathroom and kill you there straight away. At least this way, you live longer.”

  Kate walked forward, head up and moving as casually as possible. 

  Ian's finger wedged deeper into her back. 

  Varjak! She thought desperately, a tear sliding down her cheek. Where are you when I actually need you? Help me! Why can't the undead read minds!

  The automatic doors parted as Kate walked through them, almost crashing into a couple.    

  They gave her an odd look as she stumbled forward, another tear rolling down her face. 

  “Compose yourself!” growled Ian, as Kate stood up straight and resumed her normal pace. Her eyes ran over the parking lot, now hazy in the cold light of day, searching for any sign of James's green car. 

  Her heart slowed as she saw no sign of it. 

  She continued on through the parking lot, turning left onto the road and down the path that lead to the runway, where gates brimmed with barbed wire loomed. 

  The main gate seemed to be unoccupied, but Kate was no longer going to be fooled by the undead. She knew it was more likely that they'd made themselves invisible. 

  She clenched her teeth at the thought. 

  The path began to slope downwards. Yellowing grass patched over the dry dusty ground, dotted with snarling dandelions. 

  What a place to die, thought Kate. 

  Then she was on the floor, arm tight round her stomach. The cold that had struck her continued to burn. 

  “Wait here,” hissed Ian. 

  Kate stayed where she was. She didn’t have much option. She was resisting the urge to spin around and run, pain or no pain. 

  Varjak's earlier words circled round her head - if you encounter them, do the sensible thing and run. 

  She pondered the idea. 

  She had no idea how close Ian was to her, how fast he would realise she was running from him, but she knew she had to at least try to escape. 

  She made it to the very edge of the parking lot.

  Ian's hard arm snaked its way over her shoulder and around her throat. She gasped as she fell back into his chest. 

  “And, where do you think you’re going?” His mouth was too close to her face. 

  Kate didn’t want to admit it, but in that one moment, she noticed his smell. 

  The sweet tang of coconut, the smell of a travel agents. 

  She felt safe, only for a moment. 

  “VARJAK!” She leaned against his restrictive arms. “James! VARJ - ” It stung as it clamped over her mouth. 

  “One more noise and I'll break your neck.” 

   He began hauling her away, arm still around her throat. 

   He dragged her, whimpering and sobbing, back to the narrow area behind the gate to the runway. 

   There, he threw her into a wall. She heard a crack as her back made contact. 

   She tried to pull his arm off. Her nails dug into his skin. She hung her entire weight on his arm, but he still managed to hold her in place. 

   He solidified in front of her, face no longer a cherub's, but a demon's. 

   Tears dripped from Kate's eyes as she stared into Ian's livid ones. 

  “How I'd like to kill you now,” he spat, pushing his arm deeper into her throat. She spluttered and used a hand to lever her neck as far back from Ian's arm as possible. “But I want an audience first. I want my comrades to see you die, one of the last of the murderers. Do you understand?” The arm lodged even deeper, completely cutting her air supply. “You're the spawn of murderers.”

   Murderers? What was he talking about? Did he mean her parents, for murdering the undead? 

   Her mind went blank, subject to no air. 

  Everything was beginning to blur - she could see dark purple spots growing bigger and darker in colour...Black was beginning to cloud her vision...

  Then she was thrown back into the grey light as the pressure on her throat eased. 

  She lost control of her muscles, and dropped to the ground. 

  “Pathetic,” snarled Ian. 

  She wanted to throw up, but there was nothing to vomit. She curled up amongst the dry grass, vibrating. She heard Ian give a satisfied chuckle somewhere above her.

  “I-Ian.” He didn’t seem the sort to be pleaded with. But she had no options left. 

  Her eyes parted until she made out his half-turned leg in front of her. Her eyes travelled up to his face, darkened against the sun. 

  “I’ve never k-killed anyone in my life. Never would. I wouldn’t even kill you if I had the c-chance. L-Let me go. Your name will never be mentioned in this. Just let me go.”

  She glanced at his foot and imagined it smashing into her face. 

  She kept her eyes on him, watching every little twist in his expression. 

  After several moments he still hadn’t made a move, and Kate was growing more anxious.   

  Why didn’t he get it over and done with?

  His eyes grew suddenly, as though he’d just returned from a daydream. 

  His legs curled into a kneeling position. His spotless face zoomed slowly into her own. 

  She felt fingers through the ringlets on the back of her head, raising her up. 

  Their noses nearly touched. 

  Her heart was pulsing with a different rhythm now. Still fast, but not frantic. 

  He wanted to kill her, and practically had already tried. 

  So what was the hold up? Why were they now in a pose that almost seemed…

  Romantic?

  Kate had lost her fear some minutes ago. Ian seemed locked in some thought process that allowed his body to go into autopilot. 

  He wouldn’t harm her until he, again, came back to reality. Was it something she said? 

  His mouth lurched towards her. 

  Kate was faced with an instant decision. Was she actually going to let him -

  “Spawn of murderers, it’s in your blood.” The words tingled at her lips. 

  Her head hit the ground, and sunlight burst into her eyes.  She cried out hoarsely. Ian's footsteps began to fade, their sound scratchy on the cracked earth. Presumably he'd gone off to search for the other undead. 

  Kate lay in the weeds, her breathing slowing.

  She flopped over, her body star-fished. Her eyes watered to a close. 

  Never had she felt weakness like this before. She didn't have the energy to get up and run away again, even if Ian was letting her go now. 

  All she could see now through the slits of her eyes was the white light of day peeking over the rooftop, sneaking a look as she began to lose consciousness. 

  She closed her eyes, the last of her energy gone. 

  Immediately, something flapped against her nose, tickling it.  She looked through slits again - something green and cotton was dangling over her face, taunting her. 

  "Varjak," said Kate hoarsely, lifting a dead weight arm from the ground and reaching out to the jacket. 

  The light disappeared, interrupted by a figure who stood in it’s path. 

  "You're a moron," Varjak muttered, and Kate saw, that in spite of the situation, he still managed a school-boy grin.

  “You're here,” said Kate, going slack with relief. 

  “Of course I'm here,” snorted Varjak. “I’m your knight in shining armour. Minus the steed. But James would make a pretty good horse I guess. He’s useless at everything else. But the question is, why are you here? Didn't I tell you to run at the first sign of trouble?”

  “Sorry,” Kate laughed, but it came out in a splutter. She was so happy she could barely contain herself.  “But where's...where's Ian?”

  “Who?” said Varjak, leaning closer towards her so that she could properly make out his features. They were half-silhouetted against the bright sunlight behind him. 

  “Ian,” said Kate, attempting to sit up and failing miserably. “He's...he's the one who did this to me. And wait, where's James?”

  “Parking the car. He just thinks I've gone to look for you,” said Varjak disdainfully, helping Kate to her feet. 

  “But...but Ian! He'll kill him!” She jumped up and down, causing her to double up in pain.

  “Easy!” said Varjak exasperatedly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and dipping his head level to her own. “What did he do to you exactly? You look like you've just been dragged through a bush.”

  “Never mind that!” groaned Kate, clutching at her bruised ribcage. “Get James! They can't hurt James!”

  “They won't hurt James,” said Varjak, voice level. “They haven't a reason to go after him. He's not related to anyone significant like you and Ben are.” He shook his head as a sense of de ja vu crept up on him, a gesture Kate didn't notice. 

  “I want him here anyway. I did not get beaten up just so James could get himself captured!” growled Kate, slowly straightening up. 

  “Alright. Give me half a second and I'll transport myself to his car and see if he's there.” And before she could object, Varjak had gone. 

  Almost immediately however, he appeared back at her side, returning so fast it was as though he'd never left. 

  “He's not in his car, but he's parked it anyway. Which admittedly doesn't look too good,” reported Varjak. 

  “Well let's go find him then!” 

  She pushed him forward roughly in spite of the pain she was in. 

  He gently grabbed both her wrists in one hand, expression pained. 

  “We have to be tactical about this, Kate. You've already seen how cunning and ruthless this lot are. That, and you look half-dead. And please ignore the irony in that.”

  “So what's your big tactical plan?” asked Kate, fully straightening up and narrowing her eyes. 

  “I don't have one,” sighed Varjak, looking around. “I think we'll have to wing it and just go inside. Let's go quickly.” 

  He grabbed her wrist and began to move, shimmering swiftly into invisibility. 

  He darted out of the barren grassy area and veered right onto the pavement. He abruptly stopped, completely unaffected by the running as usual, and caused Kate to crash into him, stumbling as she tried to steady herself. 

  Varjak's hand shot out to her own and pulled her into a standing position.

  “Calm down. The more jittery you act, the more you'll be noticed,” Varjak hissed. 

  Kate gave a nod, eyes fixed straight ahead. 

  She could not shake off the feeling that Ian was ready to pounce out at her and drag her back to the runway gate - after all, this was as far as she got the last time she had made an attempt at escaping. 

  Varjak tugged on her arm, encouraging her to move forward in time with him. 

  Kate looked up at him.

  She moved this time, stepping in time with Varjak as they made their way across the parking lot. 

  Although her head was directed stiffly forwards, her eyes were flitting about wildly, nervously studying each crack and crevice in between the rows of cars, expecting someone to suddenly appear there at any moment.  

  Kate stared through the transparent automatic doors as they made it to the entrance.

  The daylight refracted off the automatic doors, blinding Kate to the unnatural red-head beyond for a moment. 

  She focused, and her reaction was instant. 

  “Calm down,” growled Varjak in her ear, squeezing her hand tightly before she could dart after James. 

  Her first instinct was stare up at him furiously then wriggle free of his grip. She knew it would be somewhat easy, as Varjak had to concentrate to be able to touch her without going through her. 

  Then she thought better of it, realizing the reason for his actions. 

  Any dramatic moves and they would be become instantly noticeable. 

  So she waited for Varjak to lead them at a steady speed across the foyer before throwing her arms around James.

  “I'm so glad you're here,” she whispered, burying her nose into his shoulder.

  “What happened to you?” James whispered into her ear, clutching her tightly. “Did they...did they find you?”

  Kate nodded into his shoulder, and James reinforced his grip on her. 

  “Don't worry. We're going to get to France and we'll be safe there.” 

  She wasn't so sure herself, but nodded again anyway, pressing her forehead against his shoulder and letting the tears slide down her cheeks. 

  A cold hand pressed into her shoulder. 

  “This is the final call for the changeover flight 317 destined for Hong Kong - ” the tannoy called. 

  “It's the last call for our flight. Well, your flight,” said Varjak. 

  Kate released James and looked up at him enquiringly. 

  “You have a ticket, don't you?” she asked, biting her lip. 

  James held the ticket in the air, a half-smile on his chiselled face. 

  “Don't worry. I'm not leaving you on a flight with a bunch of psychos.”

  Kate smiled up at him, and the pair fell into a momentary silence. 

  Varjak broke it with a loud cough.

  “Guys, I'm serious. We have to go. And act casual.” 

  He grabbed Kate's hand and pulled her, causing James to glare at him, something which was ignored. 

  They moved swiftly and silently through the crowds, Varjak eventually having to dissolve into thin air to avoid the security checks. 

  Due to their lateness in their arrival to the departure lounge, they were led straight to their boarding gate, where both James and Kate were stopped to have their passports checked before going through. 

  Even as they travelled down the passage to their plane Kate felt the need to repeatedly glance back. 

  What if she never came back here? 

  Biting her lip again, she turned back and wound an arm around James's, pressing her cheek into his shoulder. 

  He glanced down at her, the corners of his mouth twitching as they fought a smile. 

  They stepped onto the plane, the loud sound of whirring motors a soothing rumble. 

  As they made their way to a seat Kate stuck her hand out into the air around her, searching for Varjak. 

  She was greeted with a loud “OW!”, which caused several passengers to glance up at the standing James. 

  “Sorry,” he murmured, pulling Kate into a seat before he could blush. Kate was frowning at the ceiling. 

  “How's he up there?” she whispered to James, tilting her head.

  “No idea,” replied James with a shrug, leafing through an aircraft safety book. 

  She shook her head and clicked her seatbelt, finally beginning to feel at ease. 

  It was both a good and bad thing that James was almost entirely blocking her view of the window - any scary faces that might appear would be invisible. 

  James placed a consoling hand on her own. 

  She didn't dare turn her head to look at him - had she done so, it was likely she would have blushed furiously and completely embarrassed herself. 

  With Varjak swimming around above her and watching in his realm of invisibility, the jokes he would later come out with would be never-ending. 

  So she sat still, eyes fixed ahead until the plane finally left ground. 

  The feeling of weightlessness filled her like a balloon. 

  Gone was the field in which she was nearly killed. 

  The only thing she had to concern herself with, at that moment, was the possibility of Varjak pulling pranks on unsuspecting passengers. 

  Which was worrisome enough.  

 

Reviews

[w2de35657u687y4324rf]

Hmmm the last paragraph contradicts with the MC's initial opinion about the plane. Also, I'm not quite certain if Ian kissed her or just hit her. That was quite a strange bit, but it adds dimension to the wonder of the story. I'm still not certain of Varjaks appearance. At first I believe you describe his face as 'round', so I thought he was kinda chubby. Though, now you've said his torso was muscular, so I'm a bit confused. I don't know exactly why I hate James so much, but I do. It seemed like Varjaks whole "Changing his appearance instead of being invisible to save energy" was a bit pointless considering he only remained visible until customs. He will also have to remain invisible the entire flight, so I'm not sure. This passage was somewhat tiresome, but still, it was good.

[tynamite]

She doesn't want to go for a coffee with Ian, yet she blindly flies to another country with Varjak. It's nice that James is going with them.

[FemmeSpookyCorpse]

I loved the suspense of this chapter...it was very chilling. I couldn't stop reading, the flow of detail during each situation kept me glued to the page. I'm going to have to stop reading for now, but I think it's incredible so far = ]