I Am Death

Twenty-one

Four days earlier

The man sitting in seat 9A was, by cabin crew standards, the perfect passenger. As he boarded the plane, he smiled politely at all the attendants and then waited patiently for the passengers crowding the aisle in front of him to place their hand luggage inside the appropriate compartments. There was no trace of annoyance from him, no exasperated folding of the arms, no irritated ‘excuse me’s, and no uncomfortable shifting from foot to foot. Once he’d taken his seat, he hadn’t asked for a single thing, not even a glass of water.

Despite all the stewardesses onboard flight number 387 from Sacramento to Los Angeles being young and very attractive, there had also been no flirtatious looks from passenger 9A, nor any awkward attempts at cheesy pickup lines.

The man had caught the attention of Sharon Barnard, the youngest of the three stewardesses on board, and she was curious about what he did for a living. His clothes gave little away; a dark-gray suit and a crisp white shirt with a perfectly knotted black-and-white tie. He could’ve been just another businessman, like half the passengers on that early morning flight, but he was missing all the typical gadgets — the briefcase, the laptop computer or tablet, and the smartphone.

While some passengers read, some slept, some worked, some played games on their tablets or listened to music, passenger 9A did nothing. He kept his seat in the upright position, his hands together in his lap and his eyes forward, staring straight ahead. At first Sharon wondered if he was meditating, but when she walked past his seat and asked him if he’d like anything to drink, he answered her immediately and courteously, saying that he was all right. She asked him if he was going to Los Angeles on business, and he replied that he was returning from business. He lived in Los Angeles.

That had brought a smile to Sharon’s lips.

‘Tom,’ Sharon said to the head steward, who was also her best friend and housemate. ‘What do you think of that guy in seat 9A?’

Tom smiled at her teasingly. ‘Are you asking me if he’s gay, darling?’

Tom Hobbs was twenty-three years old, very attractive, single and gay. One of his biggest talents was his sixth sense for spotting other gay males without even speaking to them. He stepped out from behind the partition and casually looked down the aisle.

‘Yep, he’s one hundred percent hot,’ he replied. ‘I clocked him as soon as he stepped on to the aircraft.’ Tom smiled again, then pouted his lips at Sharon. ‘And I can see that so did you.’

Sharon didn’t look embarrassed. ‘As you’ve said,’ she replied, ‘he’s hot.’

‘No doubt there, and you might just be in luck, honey,’ Tom continued. ‘Because he’s definitely straight.’

Sharon smiled. ‘You really think so? He hasn’t looked at any of us girls.’

‘Oh, I’m positive, darling.’ Tom glanced at 9A again. ‘Yep, that man likes pussy.’

‘No wedding band either,’ Sharon said.

Tom grinned at her. ‘Look at you, you vixen, scouting the customers and all, way ahead of the competition. I like your style.’

‘You better, I’ve learned it from you.’

Tom lifted his hand for a high-five.

Sharon slapped it.

‘Though,’ she said, ‘I can’t help thinking that he looks familiar somehow.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. Maybe it’s the eyes, or that strong chin, but I keep on thinking that I have seen him before. Do you remember seeing him on a previous flight at all?’

Tom looked at passenger 9A once again. ‘Umm, no darling. A hunk like that, I would definitely remember if I had.’

Sharon also didn’t think that she had seen him on a previous flight, but she was almost certain that she had seen him before somewhere.

‘OK,’ she said, moving things along. ‘So what do you think he does for a living?’

When flying together, Tom and Sharon sometimes played a guessing game over a few chosen passengers. It helped pass the time.

‘Umm.’ Tom wiggled his head from side to side for a second. ‘He definitely works out. You can tell by his arms. His biceps are about to rip through his sleeves. But he also comes across as the calm type. Nothing seems to bother him, and he has one hell of an intense stare. Have you checked those big brown eyes?’

Sharon nodded. ‘Oh yes.’

Tom smiled again. ‘Silly me for asking. Well, I’d say he’s either a psychologist, or some sort of therapist... maybe sports.’ He then mimed a shiver. ‘Ooh no, even better, I’d say he’s a sexual therapist.’

‘Psychologist.’ Sharon liked that thought.

‘Cabin crew, please take your seats for landing,’ the announcement came through the speakers.

Less than ten minutes later the Boeing 757 touched down on runway two at Los Angeles International Airport.

Once again, passenger 9A waited patiently for all the other passengers in front of him to collect their hand luggage and clear the aisle. As he walked past the crew at the front of the plane, he gave them all a single courteous nod and mouthed the words ‘thank you’. His eyes sought no one in particular and Sharon felt a little disappointed. She had a special smile, coupled with a sexy wink prepared just for him. All she could do was watch as he walked away. She really would’ve liked to get to know him a little better.

What she had no way of knowing was that passenger 9A already knew everything he needed to know about Sharon Barnard.