Chapter 7

"This is Pan Jay 42, over. Requesting permission to land."

"Control tower 2, responding," the professional tone dropped. "Sorry, man. No one can squeeze in here. O'Hare is jam packed. Couldn't even fit my own grand mum in here. Over."

The pilot blinked. Grand mum?

"Pan Jay responding, over. Anywhere we can land? We have an emergency. Over."

"Control tower 2 responding. Dude, the whole world is having a crisis. Heard yet?"

"Negative. Fill me in."

"People are gone. Like some Star-Trek thing. All over the world, chaos, chaos, chaos. N one knows what the heck is going on. Was that your problem?"

"Yes. About fifty, some elderly, some middle-aged, and all children."

"Yep. Same here in the tower. It's just like, they-re their one second, and then they poof away… Only their clothing is left."

"This is going to be a problem."

A scoff came over the line in a burst of static. "Ya think? This is definitely uncharted waters… But back to the flight issue. Proceed over to Manhattan. I think they have a few open strips, if you hurry."

"Roger. Good luck."

The pilot sighed, rubbing a hand down the bridge of his nose, and pulled off the headset. What was happening, and why the heck was he involved?