Last Command of the Witheld Arc 1: Rebirth

PRIVATE AIRFIELD, NEW HAMPSHIRE, TODAY

Once Griffin got to the stairs, boxes firmly in his grasp, Sarah turned and went into the plane. Griffin followed, the moment he set foot inside the plane the stairs started folding up and the door shut smoothly and without a sound. There appeared to be no flight crew or attendants.

The interior of the airplane was out of the billionaire’s catalog of luxury private jets. Climate control kept the air cool and slightly scented with vanilla. He saw to his right a door that presumably led to the cockpit of the plane, but it was firmly closed. The plane’s cabin was down a short hallway and through an open door. Griffin’s sneakers sank into inch-thick carpet that was such a deep red that it almost seemed black. The walls were a pleasant cream color and it was lit with soft yellow recessed lights. Instead of circular airplane windows, there were big-screen monitors arranged along the walls of the aircraft.

In the rear of the cabin was a large U-shaped couch that stretched across the entire back of the plane. It was festooned with overstuffed silk pillows in muted colors. Arranged in little groups of three at several tables in front of the couch, clustered near the large monitors, were comfortable-looking reclining chairs that looked to be bolted to the floor. August had seated himself at one of the tables. The monitor next to him was on, showing the interior of the hangar.

As Griffin and Sarah made their way inside, the aircraft’s engines started warming up. The noise was muffled impressively by the expensive sound-dampening in the cabin, but the floor shook slightly as the sound deepened and the plane began to maneuver out of the hangar.

Sarah sat down at one of the other recliners at the table with August and Griffin followed. He set the black boxes he’d dashed back to collect on the little table in front of them and sat down in his own recliner. The engines roared, loud even through the soundproofed cabin, and the view from the monitor showed trees starting to whip by.

August calmly reached over and took the boxes from Griffin, saying, “Brace yourselves.”

Griffin felt himself get pressed into the soft padding of his seat with the acceleration. The engine noise ramped up even higher and he felt the speed in his chest. Griffin screamed in terror, trying to find some kind of seatbelt or something as he saw ahead of them the rapidly approaching trees begin to sway in another earthquake. This one was even more violent than the last one and the aircraft jounced and bounced along the runway. Miraculously, the unseen pilot maintained its speed and heading as the end of the runway approached.

Just as the nose of the aircraft tipped up, Griffin saw the runway simply crumble away as enormous cracks opened up in the asphalt, gaping into yawning pits. Fifty-foot-tall pine trees swayed and toppled as the earth tore itself apart. Griffin and Sarah’s chairs swiveled so they were pressed into their seats and a safety harness whipped around them automatically, strapping them tightly into the chairs. They lifted off as the engines roared and the nose continued to point up toward the sky.

The plane’s take-off made them go almost vertical in a stomach-dropping ascent. Griffin’s knuckles were white and his eyes screwed tightly shut as he gripped the arms of the recliner, grimacing in abject terror. The plane shook with turbulence and he felt like he was getting slowly squished into the chair as they continued to accelerate.

In just a few moments though, their flight leveled out and Griffin and Sarah’s chairs both swiveled back to face August. He allowed himself to open one eye, then the other as he saw that everyone seemed to be okay. Griffin felt a little lightheaded, then realized he’d been holding his breath the entire time. He took a big gasping breath as spots flashed in front of his eyes. He still couldn’t unclench his fingers from the arms of his chair.

Sarah was breathing heavily, her face pale, her blue hair plastered to her head, sweat streaking her cheeks. Griffin knew she was doing everything she could not to throw up: Sarah couldn’t stand rollercoasters or theme park rides because of her motion sickness. She took a few deep breaths and he saw some color return to her face. When she opened her eyes they looked haunted, but still had a spark of anger. She brushed a shaking hand through her hair.

“It appears that we have less time than I thought,” August said, mildly.

Griffin noticed that he wasn’t buckled in with one of those fancy safety webs. His suit was still immaculate. The big man stood, straightening his jacket and adjusting his cuffs. He bent and placed the boxes back on the table.

“I am going to retire to my cabin. We have a four-hour flight before we arrive at the Gate facility. Pray to whatever gods you believe in that it still stands.” August didn’t comment about the black lacquered boxes Griffin and Sarah were still holding, simply glancing at them as he stood up. He paused for a moment, looking like he was about to say something, then he shook his head and moved to the back of the plane, disappearing through a door that Griffin hadn’t seen before.

The smooth flight was a welcome change from the terrifying earthquakes and terrible weather, though it somehow made things seem even more surreal than they already seemed. Sarah pressed a button on the harness and it clicked, releasing her. She took a deep and shuddering breath before closing her eyes and scrubbing them with her hands. Griffin fiddled with his safety harness, finding the button Sarah had and releasing the tight web.

He put his hands in his pockets, surprised when he felt the crinkle of plastic. He pulled his left hand out of his pocket and opened it, revealing three fortune cookies. Oh yeah, he thought, surprised, I got extra fortune cookies at Golden Dragon. He pushed one of them over to Sarah, opening one for himself and absently munching on the cookie while he unfolded the fortune.

He stopped chewing. ALL THE TROUBLES YOU HAVE WILL PASS AWAY VERY QUICKLY, the fortune read. That wording was only mildly terrifying, given what August said. Considering the day he’d had, it barely registered.

“Do you believe him?” Sarah asked suddenly.

He looked up. She was staring at the monitor. All they could see were thick, boiling clouds. The clouds were dark and ominous, looking like nothing Griffin had seen before outside of science fiction. Lightning spiderwebbed through the clouds, lighting up the sky.

He took a long time before answering. “Yeah. The uh, earthquake.”

“I think he has us hypnotized,” Sarah said.

“Hypnotized?”

She turned to him and looked at him like he was an idiot. “Yes. Every time we question him, every time we make even a little resistance, he does…something. I don’t know what.”

Griffin nodded in agreement, “Yeah, yeah, I know what you mean. I didn’t really think about it at the time!” He glanced back over at the monitor, “So, uh… What are we gonna do about it?”

Sarah sighed and closed her eyes, putting her head in her hand, and rubbing at her temples. “I don’t know, Griffin. We’re on his fucking plane, going to God-knows-where.”

Griffin got up from his seat and started looking around the cabin. There didn’t seem to be any other doors than what he had already seen. He went all the way up the hall to where he thought the pilot was and knocked on it. There was no answer. He roamed around for a while longer until Sarah yelled at him to sit down. When he sat back down in his seat, his eye was immediately pulled to the pair of boxes on the little table.

“Sarah, what do you think are in those boxes?” he asked, reaching for one.

“Probably some kind of brain slug to turn us into his willing servants. Not that he needs to do that, what with his Jedi mind trick or auto-hypnosis or whatever he’s using.”

“Ha. Ha,” he said, “I’m just curious.”

She rolled her eyes, “So open one!”

He eyed it nervously, “But what if they’re dangerous?”

“Then don’t open one,” she shrugged, “For what it’s worth, I don’t actually think it’s a brain slug. The point is, I don’t know what’s in it.”

Griffin picked up one of the boxes. Now that he wasn’t running for his life, he could examine the thing. It looked like a high-quality jewelry box, something you might find at some antique store. It was covered in a high-gloss black lacquer with silver scrollwork around the edge of the box. The latch of the box was also silver but there was a starburst pattern with a little blue gem in the center of the starburst. He tried to open the box but the latch wouldn’t open.

“Huh,” he said, trying to pry at it with his fingernails. “It’s not budging. What do you think we should do?”

Sarah took a moment to untie her hair and then retie it, catching the wisps that had flown away in their initial dash across the hangar. “We don’t know enough to do anything yet,” Sarah said. Suddenly she yawned. Seeing her yawn made Griffin yawn, he felt his jaw pop with the sudden need for it. “I can’t believe how,” she paused to yawn again, “how tired I—” she didn’t finish because she nodded off in the middle of her thought. She snored gently.

Griffin stared at her in a stupor, his mind clouded with a deep exhaustion that seemed to have welled up from out of nowhere. He laid his head in his arms on the table and closed his eyes, feeling sleep creeping up behind his eyelids. Before he fell asleep, he reached one hand out and clasped Sarah’s hand in his, squeezing. As he drifted off, he felt her squeeze his hand back.