Tense, Melissa's eyes look left, then right. "I don't know where he is," she said. "He's not talking to me?"

Agents Fujimoto and Marin stand before Melissa in her garage.

"Why?" Marin asked.

Melissa studies the men before averting her eyes. "Because I didn't believe him."

The agents study her.

Marin accepts the explanation.

Fujimoto's eyes take a walk around the artwork in the garage, pausing on a piece of twisted metal from the crash.

Melissa tenses.

However, Fujimoto just said, "If he should contact you, it would be in the best interest of your own safety to contact us." He hands Melissa his card.

She takes it and nods.

Fujimoto pauses, once again eyeing the metal, before moving out of the garage and on the way to their car.

Melissa looks at the business card.

_______________________________________________________________________

At Mt. Abraham High School, the Flight 180 memorial is lit for dramatic effect at night, but only achieving an eeriness.

Nathan McHugh and Eric McGorrill move toward the monument. Eric is riding his bicycle, wearing a jersey with "McGorrill" written across the back of the shoulders. Nearing the shadows, the two boys stop, looking at the monument. Nathan pulls out a heavy pocket knife and starts attempting to cut into the stone.

Melissa Wu appears from the shadows. "What are you doing?"

Nathan said, "Taylor's name should be on this wall."

Melissa is touched by the action.

"So, why'd you want us to meet you here?" Nathan asked, "Now?"

"They're watching me to see if I go to Jackson," Melissa said.

"Are you?" Eric spoke up.

"They'll follow my car." She paused a beat. "That's why you're taking me."

"Why would I wanna see him?" Nathan said.

Melissa eyes the two of them, with the memorial standing before them. "Because he knows which one of us is next."

Nathan and Eric feel the chill of their inner fears.

_______________________________________________________________________

The muscle car roars onto U.S. 17. A sign near the road indicates "Middletown - 25 mi. New York City - 105 mi."

Nathan checks the rearview mirror. Melissa looks out the front passenger window. She shakes her head, as if "no one's following us."

Eric leans forward from the backseat. "Um…okay…drive the speed limit, right?" He sits back but quickly darts forward. "And don't pass on the right."

"Billy! I'm getting a vision! You're the next one!" Nathan said.

Nervously, Eric says, "Hey, man, why'd you say that?!"

"Cause if you say another word, I'm gonna freakin' kill you!"

Eric sits back, gesturing "Hear you. Got it."

Melissa pays no attention to their exchange as she stares out into the darkness, her thoughts a million miles away.

_______________________________________________________________________

A posted sign indicates "Accident Site. Any debris found should be reported to the NTSB (222-555-NTSB).

Nathan pulls up to a stop.

Melissa opens the passenger door and pauses in the car a while. "He could be anywhere from here to a mile down the shore. You guys drive down there, start this way and we'll meet around the middle. It'll take half the time." Melissa closed the door. Nathan and Eric drive off.

She looks to the beach.

_______________________________________________________________________

The waves of the Atlantic are small but rhythmic, an eternal metronome slapping against the lone beach.

Numb, Cody Jackson sits in the sand, searching for an answer somewhere in the darkness of the evening sea.

Behind him, approaching in the sand, are soft footsteps. He listens, noting them. Yet, rather than turning around, he looks up into the sky. The shoreline lights cast an orange haze on the stars, breaking through, infinitely above. "Are they up there?"

Melissa Wu approaches, barefoot in the sand. He didn't need to turn to know who was behind him.

Jackson continues. "Somehow…is 180 still in flight? Somewhere…are they still safe?"

Melissa hasn't met eyes with Jackson, but she sits nearby, looking into the sky. "When I was a kid, like, six or seven…I used to worry so much about my parents dying. Like lying awake…just worrying. I loved them so much. I didn't want them to get hurt. And what would happen to me? What would life be like?" She pauses a beat. "Every night…it seemed." She looks out at the stars.

He doesn't eye her either. "Most kids do, I guess."

"Most kids never have it happen," she added.

Jackson hangs his head.

"When I was ten…my dad went into a 7-11 for cigarettes. I guess he heard somebody say 'Don't turn around." So, on reflex, or thinking a friend was joking…he did. And the guy blew his head off." She has lived this so many times, she is long beyond crying. "And let me tell you, I had every reason to worry before…because life became crap. I don't blame her, I guess, because my mom couldn't deal with it all. She married this butthole, who my mom with my real dad would cross the street to avoid this guy. He really didn't want a kid. And so my mom didn't either anymore, I guess." She pauses a beat. "If that was the design for my father…and my family…then screw Death! Screw it!" The waves continue to shore. Melissa looks up at the sky. "And so anyway…I've thought of that 'somewhere,' Jackson. It exists, that place."

He looks at her.

She continues. "Where my dad is still safe. Where he had a full pack of cigarettes and kept driving. A place where me and my dad and my mom…are still together…and have no idea about this second life, here." She pauses. "A place where our friends are still in the sky…where everyone gets a second chance." She looks at him. "But that place might only exist in my heart. And maybe, now…yours. I haven't experienced too many second chances in my life. I haven't seen any. But because of all of this, I believe…because of you…I will get a second chance. Because of me, you will. With you in my life…that place, right now existing in our hearts, will spring out…and become a real part of this life."

Jackson looks within her as a soft ocean breeze blows through Melissa's hair.

"And that is the only way we can beat Death…by making something special out of Life," Melissa says.

Jackson's eyes well with tears. Only as she looks him does Melissa become emotional.

They move closer and kiss, the desire for each other, to defy the events around them: darkness, the isolation. They dive into a deep feverish kiss, embracing as if the tighter, the safer. She pulls him back down to the beach and lifts his shirt over his head.

"This won't be safe," Jackson said.

Melissa looks down the beach, checking for any sign of Eric or Nathan. "Those guys are probably fifteen minutes away."

"No," Jackson said. "I mean, I don't have anything on me. This won't be safe."

Sadly, Melissa said, "Nothing is…anymore."

Jackson looks to Melissa, then kisses her with passion that reflects the defiance of Death. He pulls open her shirt and falls into her arms. The young man and woman make love in the sand, consciously and defiantly oblivious to anything around them, including the stars, possibly Flight 180, up above.