tedious.
I’ve just given up trying to play Candy Crush when the plane lurches, the combination of frustration and shock finally giving me the courage to speak: “How much longer before we land?”
Cade glances out the window. “Can’t tell.” He presses the intercom button, then lets go of it. “What was his name?”
“Major.” I smile.
Cade shakes his head. He presses the button again. “Hey, how far out are we?”
There’s no answer.
“Jesus, touchy guy,” he says to me, letting go of the button. He pushes it yet again. “Major, how far out are we from SF?”
Still nothing.
“Maybe it’s broken,” I say.
“It’s probably Hayes’ idea of a joke.”
“Who?” I say. The name rings a bell.
He gets up instead of answering and heads to the front of the plane. He knocks on the cockpit door. “Hey.” He bangs. “Major. Open up.” He tries the handle, and the door opens. I see lights flashing beyond it.
He steps inside. Then I hear him mutter something.
“Cade?”
He doesn’t answer.
After another minute, I stand up.
“Cade?” I call again.
“Fuck,” I hear someone shout, then a dull thud.
Before I can react, a dark figure comes dashing out and toward me. It’s not until hands are grabbing me that I recognize that it’s Cade.
“What—”
He hugs me to him and runs to the back of the plane, we stop at the emergency door. “Hold on to me tight.”
“Cade,” I say, my voice rising.
“Just do it!” he screams at me. I obey, and he braces one arm against the door, looks out the window, then wrenches the handle open.
The door pops and is sucked out into the night.
I scream as the interior becomes a vortex. Cade holds me tighter to him with his free hand.
I twist to look outside—that imp of the perverse—and see a roiling black mass coming up to meet us.
“Cade—”
“Hold on.”
We jump.
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