Ch.9: Hijacked
Rebel's P.O.V.
"Do you think they know about our wi-?" I quickly slapped a hand over Nichole's mouth.
"No one say anything about that, got it?" I looked around at my group, my voice ice cold.
They nodded.
"We're so dead!" Lani whispered.
"Agreed," Peter grumbled.
"Please hand over any and all cell phones and electronics. Remember, we are armed." The speakers let out the malicious, male voice again.
A man and a woman came out holding two silver rods that emitted a blue light. Hurray for modern technology! That's sarcasm. Welcome to my world.
"Portable censor machines," Ava told me quietly.
Surprisingly, the whole cabin was silent. I guess they were petrified.
"Alright! Everyone up! I want your hands behind your head! Any funny stuff and you're done. Clear?" The man with the "portable censor" barked.
No one moved.
The man then proceeded to lift his gun and shoot someone near the front rows. A woman then screamed.
"I said hands behind your head! Stand up!" This time we all obeyed, well, almost all.
I remained seated as everyone around me moved to the aisle and stood in an extremely ridiculous position. No way in heck am I obeying this guy.
The pair of agents walked down the to was of people, scanning everything and bringing anything that could potentially foil their plans back to the cockpit. They were dressed up completely different. Disguises. The woman was in a dress, barefoot after ditching her heels. Her hair had a white barrette in her hair. She had that first class look, whilst her partner had saggy pants and a white tank-top, chains hanging around his neck and a tatoo reading 'Pure' on his right shoulder.
When they reached our area the woman glared, pointing her bleach-white gun in my direction. The weapons weren't like they were in the Migration's day. No, things had changed, drastically. Being a master of anything to deal with killing, I knew that this specific model had a built in silencer, thirty-eight bullets that could be shot in an almost continuous stream, and was pretty darn efficient. You didn't want to be shot with this thing, that's for sure.
"What do you think you're doing, wise-guy?" She hissed.
My hands slowly made their way to Bethany and Nichole's backpack, looking for anything that could do harm. I found a sharpened pencil. Yep, I was screwed.
"Get up, or I'll...I'll kill you!" The hesitation she gave tells me that she isn't so sure.
"No," I shrugged, looking out the window nonchalantly. Yes, that was a Rosa Parks quote.
"Yes." That was the guy.
"Ha, no," I popped a peanut in my mouth.
I was doing my best to seem unfazed. I think it was working.
A hand grabbed the front of my shirt, hauling me to my feet. I was hit with the face his similar white gun. I felt blood gush from my lip. His hand fisted in my hair, bringing my head up to look him in the eyes.
He was smirking. A look shined in his eyes like he had won. So, obviously, I spit. I spit blood on his stainless tank-top and smiled right back. The look on his face was priceless. He let me go.
I stole a glance over to the others, who were watching wide-eyed. Then there was Ava. She shook her head warningly at me, frowning in her serious way, like Fang when Nichole would be a smart alack.
Hesitantly, I raised my hands, put them behind my head, and turned my back to the guy. He scanned me. Then he had to go and be a complete butt and hit me in the back of the head with his device. I barred my teeth, trying not to growl.
The pair searched all of the passengers and took all of the carry-on bags to the cockpit. When they closed the door the speakers sent out another message.
"Cherish these moments as your last," The guy's voice sneered, "We're taking this thing down!"
A woman shrieked, another fainted, and one man threw up. Great. We're screwed.
Nichole teared up, latching onto my leg.
"What?!" Lani cried, eyes wide.
"Oh my gosh," Peter repeated, "Oh my gosh."
I picked up Beth and held her close, my thoughts swirling. Ava was shaking.
The passengers eventually calmed down. The H.R.S.C. was crashing this plane because we, the mutants, were on it. We had no choice but to sit here and die. Or did we?
"I will not stand for this!" I announced, setting Bethany down and pulling Nichole off my leg.
Faces turned up to look at me. A flight attendant fanning herself, a man with a Hawaiian shirt on going on vacation, a teenager with his headphones hanging around his neck, all of them, every one, looked up, at me, petrified and confused.
"Will you?" I continued, "Will you sit here while we plummet to our deaths?!"
"No," a bulky man stood up, "no I won't!"
I gave him a curt nod his way.
"M-Me neither," a lady rose to her feet, a baby clutched to her chest.
Slowly, the others got up to.
"We're gonna pull a Flight 93!" Another dark skinned man with his hair slicked back and his business papers sprawled across his seat cheered.
The rest of the people agreed, shouting and raising their fists in the air.
Ava looked over at me. That one glance said it all. It held hurt, hope, tiredness, loyalty, and trust.
"Okay, we need a plan," I started, clasping my hands together. "A good plan."
•••
"Here we go," I whispered, looking to Benny, the business man from earlier.
We crept ever so silently up to the cockpit door. He grabbed my arm, forcing me to look into his eyes.
"You're a good kid," He said, studying my orange eyes, "And a better fighter."
I smirked as we drew our attention back to the door, each of up moving to hide. We pushed our backs against the wall, patiently waiting and lurking. We would be just out of sight of whomever happened to walk out that door.
"I found a phone!" A woman, her name was Eliza screamed.
And thus the plan unfolded. A man with a gun emerged from behind the door, believing Eliza's act. Then Benny launched himself at the man, tackling him to the floor. He stabbed his fancy metal pen into the man's neck as I jumped up and forced my way into where the terrorists stood.
"Go!" Peter cried. All of the able bodied men on the plane rushed the cockpit, following me in.
I pulled the woman who was controlling the plane from her seat, taking her place.
The chargers, my fellow passengers, got the guns away from the H.R.S.C. representatives and began dragging them out of the cockpit to begin stage two: Takeover.
Ava hurried to my side, picking up one of the guns and a cellphone left in the stash collected of electronics. She dialed 911, putting it on speaker.
"This is a nine-one-one dispatcher, what's your emergency?" A man's voice said, almost bored.
"We're on a hijacked plane!" Ava answered quickly, "We've taken it back over, though, but nobody aboard knows how to fly."
"Can I ask you your name?" The man hurried.
"Avis," She whispered, "Avis Aquila Ride!"
The man on the other end was silent, possibly struck speechless by the fact that he was talking to a mutant.
"Cris," The guy croaked, "My name is Cris."
"Ok, Cris, tell me what to do," I interrupted.
"Who's-?" Cris began.
"Rebel. I'm the one trying to control the plane," I explained quickly.
"Do you happen to know how many passengers are aboard? Or what flight you're on?"
"Flight 56, we came from New York. There's about thirty, including the flight attendants, probably twenty now that we've taken out the hijackers," I replied, rocking back and forth as the plane hit turbulence.
"So the hijackers are dead?" Cris clarified. I heard another gunshot.
"Clear!" Benny hollered back to me.
"Yes sir, they're dead."
"Do you know where you are?"
"Im on a plane with its pilot and copilot laying dead on the floor somewhere above the United States of America ready to piss my pants," I growled, "Tell me how to land the plane!"
"Luckily, you got connected to the right resource. Is the autopilot on?" Cris stated, calm.
"Now how the h*ll am I supposed to know?!"
"Ok, Rebel, I need you to stay calm for me. Do you have any prior flying experience?"
"I have wings, what do you think?" I snarled.
"Well this is a little different," He said.
"Cut to the chase."
"No one on the plane has ever piloted before or has any flight school?"
"Nope. I'm the best you got."
Cris was then quiet again, thinking.
"Do you believe that you can efficiently land Flight 56 safely?" He asked solemnly.
"No, I don't think I know the controls well enough. Is there no other way?"
"You could take her down in a body of water," Cris suggested.
My stomach knotted.
"There's a baby on board," I chocked out.
"Human or mutant?" Cris questioned. Like it really mattered.
"Human. Theres a two year old, four year old, and two twelve year old mutants, and then me and Ava here. The others seem to be older, and human," I specified.
"Rebel, I need you to listen to me ok?" Cris said, deathly serious.
"I've been listening." I nodded, even though he couldn't see it.
"I need you to be strong enough and do what I say if you want everyone to come out alive."
"I'm all ears," I sighed.
"Are you over a large body of water?" Cris asked.
Ava looked out the window and shook her head.
"No."
"Keep an eye out for one."
"Cris?"
"Yes, I'm still here."
"The Human Race Survival Corpse was the hijackers."
He was silent for a third time today.
"Any evidence of this?"
"They said so, over the intercom. There's witnesses. They're also wearing white, or they were. And they had the white guns. One had a tattoo that said 'Pure'," I explained.
"Were they on there for you, and your family, Rebel?"
"I don't know. There's a bunch of scared people on here," I whispered.
"Are you afraid?"
I looked over Ava, contemplating Cris' question.
"Yes, sir, I think I am," I admitted.
"Why are you scared, Rebel?"
"I dont want to loose my family."
"You're not going to."
"I know."
"We're over a lake! I think," Ava yelled.
"Ok, Rebel I need you to grab ahold of the steering device. It's shaped like a 'u'," Cris instructed.
"The thing they hold onto in the movies?" I clarified.
"Yes."
I let out a breath and obeyed, looking over at Ava worried.
"Avis, I need you to go tell the others to strap themselves in a seat and beware of where the exits are," Cris continued. Ava, out of character, threw her arms around me, hugging me, and them left to carry out the instructions, leaving the phone with me.
I waited for a few minuets, waiting for the others to secure themselves safely.
"Are you still there? Hello?" Cris' voice came from the phone once more.
"Yeah, I'm here. I'm ready," I barely got out, my hands gripping to the "steering device".
"Are you hooked in?"
"Yes, I am now."
"Those movies you've watched, have you seen them land a plane?"
"Yeah..."
"Ok, I contacted the airport a while back. They're tracing your plane. The CSM was also notified. When you crash, get out of the plane quickly. They're should be help coming," Cris stated.
"Am I going to die?" I felt myself tear up, my emotionless walls falling down.
"I don't know, Rebel," Cris said with a hint of regret, "I'm not supposed to say this, but I really don't know."
"I'm taking us down. If I don't make it...long live the impures!"
And with that I sent the plane, unknowingly, quickly down.
I felt the impact.
I felt my fear.
I felt my tears be wiped away with the water rushing in.
I felt a surge to live.
I flew, fought, and crashed.