In the Late 1980's
They were both so excited. It was their first vacation as husband and wife. Neither of them were wealthy enough to afford a honeymoon, but they had lucked into the trip of a lifetime, thanks to a radio station’s giveaway. Carol could barely contain her excitement as she looked at Bernard.
"I can hardly believe it," she stated yet again.
"I know," Bernard replied.
"I mean, Hawaii?!"
The two of them smiled at each other and held hands as they walked through the simple security and waited in the seating area at the terminal. Both were shaking, they were so thrilled. They were so caught up in each other and their trip that barely noticed the young man that came out of the bathroom and sat across from the two of them. The area was mostly empty as there was still quite some time before takeoff. But neither noticed anything out of the ordinary, until he pulled out a gun and pointed at Carol and said, "Now, neither of you wants to make a scene."
The couple froze. His heart pounding a mile a minute, Bernard moved to stand but the young man stated quite calmly, "You do not want to do that, sir."
Bernard stared around the room, furious, and panicking.
"You can’t do this—"
"Actually, I can," he said, a cold smile upon his lips. "And I am."
"Do you want mon—" Carol started to say.
"I have no reason to take any of your belongings," he stated calmly.
"Then what do you—" Bernard’s voice was getting louder with each word, and the young man interrupted him as well.
"I said, you don’t want to be doing that," he said. His voice had once been rather warm, but now it went cold.
Furious, and with other alternative, both remained silent. Bernard studied the man that was holding them at gunpoint. He seemed young, but his hair looked white, and his dark green eyes had a maturity to them, as if they had seen a hundred lifetimes. Bernard came to the horrifying conclusion that he could, and would, kill them if they didn’t do what he said. Hoping for some help, Bernard looked around the room. No one was looking at them. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. As he watched, the lady at the counter announced, "Flight 243 will now be boarding at Terminal D3."
"Look, this is our flight," Bernard said, his voice tight, "So, how abo—"
"You’re not going anywhere."
Bernard stared at the man, too furious to speak. Carol, who was very pale, couldn't help but mutter, "This is ridiculous."
"This is the way it is, ma’am," the man responded, his green eyes never leaving the two of them.
Bernard didn't understand. No one was stopping to stare; no security was coming at a run. People were simply passing them by, as if it were a regular day. It was as if they were invisible. The minutes seemed to slow to a crawl. Both of them waited for the man to do something, or to just leave them alone. They silently prayed—something neither of them did often—that the man would make his intentions clear and let them go. But he said nothing more, and the gun did not lower. Bernard continued to stare into the man’s eyes, but they did not waver.
After around twenty minutes of the stalemate, the final call was made and passed, and their flight finished boarding. Carol began to cry as their plane readied for takeoff. Bernard held her, glaring at the man over her head. That’s when he noticed, there was no gun in the man’s hand.
"You’re letting us go?" Bernard growled. "Now? After we miss our flight?"
The man pointed out the wall of windows to the airplane as it began to move. At first that only angered them, but then Bernard heard it. The people at the counter noticed it as well: the airplane engine sounded strange. But instead of the plane powering down, and the flight being delayed due to engine trouble, the plane finished its preparations, and took off. And everyone watched in horror as it rose, and then crashed, killing everyone inside.
Carol began to tremble, and Bernard clutched her hand as the truth of what the man had been doing dawned on them amidst the horror: he was saving them. Both of them turned to look at the man with white hair, but he was gone.