Chapter Four: In Hands of Fortune

"I told you, I saw the plane crash into the terminal, I saw it with my own eyes, I knew the plane was going to crash" Jack explained in a exhausted voice to the straight faced FBI agent sitting opposite him at the table

"So run it by me again Mr. Chapel. You knew that the plane was going to crash? So you decided to get out before it did, and just like you said, it did?" Special Agent Eugene stated

"Fuck…" Jack snorted as he lay back in his creaky wooden chair, he leaned back forward again with his forearms resting on the table "I had a dream, a vision. A vision that the plane crashed into the terminal killing everyone inside including myself"

Eugene dropped his glasses onto the table and cleared his thought by rubbing his temple with his abnormally sized hands, trying to figure out something that made no sense. Eugene had been working as an FBI agent for over twenty years now, he had seen it all, murders, rapists, assassinations, heists even the odd accountant of cross-dressing but this was the first case that baffled Eugene. The only reason they were investigating these students was because one of them stated that a plane was going to crash and they escaped before it did, naturally raising terrorists alerts. This had been protocol ever since the 9/11 disaster.

"Look sir, I told you what I saw, I'm not a fucking terrorist. I'm a student for Christ sake"

"And I'm sure you are Mr. Chapel but protocol dictates that any information regarding the acts of terrorist activity, such as knowing a plane is going to crash, classifies under that category. Have you been on any medication recently? Pills? Aspirin? Suffering from insomnia?"

Jack answered all of the questions with swift and rapid, no's.

"How'd you know Jack?"

"I don't know sir, I just don't know! But at least I saved people today; I saved seven other people from their deaths!" Jack explained while beginning tear up

Eugene sighed, this was going nowhere.

"Alright then, thank you for your time Jack, we'll be in touch if you have any more information, here's my card" Eugene said as he helped Jack out of his chair and out the door. Eugene closed the door behind him and turned around back into his office viewing the new paper clippings already littered over the pin-up wall of the terminal incident. Five hundred and fifty-one dead, twenty three missing, and four in critical condition… this was a mess and would need one big broom to sweep it up.

Jack exited the interview room and saw the rest of the people he had saved all lined up outside the door, ready to be interviewed. Ever since he had predicted that accident, not one of those people had looked at him like a normal person again. As Jack walked down past them all Jason had something to say,

"Listen to me Jack; I don't owe you shit for saving my life. Don't expect anything in return" Jason growled whilst he grabbed Jack's arm with a firm grip

"I don't expect anything Jason" Jack muttered out silently

As Jason let go of Jack he continued walking down the hallway past all of the people he had saved, but he didn't feel proud, he felt dead. As he strolled past Walter with his head down, Walt gave him a dirty look; he was ready to knock his block off. Walt squirmed his eyes at Jack as he walked past. Jack could sense that Walt was angry and was probably about to hit him, but he didn't know what for, he just saved him, why was he still angry at him.

Jeremy put his arm out and grabbed Jacks hand and they performed a shoulder bump to exchange respect and a non-verbal, see you later. Jack slipped his hands in his pockets and put his head down even lower than what it is was before. He pushed open the glass front door and left the building. As he stepped out onto the street he noticed that there was no cars, no people, there was nothing. Just a hollow and nippy breeze blowing down the street, like the same one he felt back at the airport. He felt like there was something, or someone behind him, but there wasn't. The hairs on his back lifted once again as something was not quite right, he was not alone, he had never felt alone ever since he left the airport, like there was always something in the room with him.

A newspaper drifted down the street twisting and turning with the wind as it flew, but then the wind stopped and the paper dropped to the ground. Jack inspected it with his own two eyes. It was a front page report of the accident and statistics showing the victims, and an enlarged section about him and the other survivors. As the paper lay there on the road Jack drew closer it to as he began to crouch down towards it, viewing the pictures of him and his friends. A truck furiously sped past Jack and sent him into shock as he fell backwards onto the pavement, covered in water splashed up from the road. He gave the finger to truck as it continued up the street. He brushed himself off and stood back up to inspect the photos on the paper again, only to find that the trucks tires had perfectly run over all the photos with its treads. Everything but the photos were visually knowledgeable, he then felt that cool and chilly wind again, he was not alone as looked at the numerous images of him and the others all with tread marks over their faces.