Unseen Messages(10)

But the book wouldn’t fit in my bursting pockets.

Another crush of air tossed us around like a ping-pong ball. I dropped the notepad into my handbag, letting it plummet to my feet.

I listened.

Are you happy?

The sky said no.

The wind prepared to pay.

And fate shattered any hope of ever going home.





Chapter Four


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G A L L O W A Y

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“THANK CHRIST.”

The grateful curse fell from my lips as airplane tyres bounced onto the Fijian runway. My fingers ached from clutching the arm-rests and my heart had permanently rehomed itself in my throat.

I wasn’t a *—most things didn’t scare me—how could it when I’d lived what I’d lived? But when it came to that kind of event (the kind that so eloquently reminded us we were nothing in the scheme of things), then yeah, I had a healthy dose of terror.

The entire descent, my mind had exploded with worst-case scenarios of agonising pain and horrific death. Of slamming into the earth, erupting into fire, burning to char with the scent of flesh in my nostrils.

The atmosphere of the flight had switched completely the moment the first judder bar turned into a bloody loop de loop. It wasn’t ordinary turbulence—this had been mean, furious—a demon dog toying with its prey.

While passengers had remained locked in their useless seats, air-hostesses quickly secured the cabin and buckled in. The wind howled louder outside, continuing to tumble us through the clouds.

I’d looked across the cabin to Unknown Girl and wished I’d been a better person, a braver bloody man. I should’ve said hello, given fate time to show why we had a connection.

But I hadn’t, and that opportunity had been snatched away as the wings of the plane shuddered and bowed.

The closer we plummeted to earth, the more adrenaline drenched my bloodstream—especially when the TV screens hissed with white noise and a few overhead lockers popped open, raining baggage from above.

Human screams punctured the mechanical screams of engines. Our velocity increased as the same substance we flew through made its life mission to tear us apart and leave the scattered pieces in the Pacific Ocean. The blackness outside hid our destination, but streaks of angry raindrops slurped their way along the window—tasting us...preparing to kill us.

I’d expected the captain to yell, “Brace, brace, brace.” I’d prepared myself for a crash and the highly unwanted repercussion of death.

But he never did.

And as close as death had come...we’d survived.

After forty-five minutes of fear and spine-jarring bucking, the captain had managed to save us from turning into road kill. We were intact—minus a few bumps and bruises from pelting luggage. We were no longer at the mercy of storms but secured firmly on the earth thanks to gravity’s hold.

An eerie quiet filled the plane as we taxied to a gate. No one spoke or clapped at the safe landing or even laughed with nervousness. It was as if the harrowing ordeal had stolen any holiday cheer, showing us how killable we were when nature wanted us.

The plane rocked as we turned toward the terminal. The waiting air-bridge danced in the storm, drenched with rain and occasional flashes of lightning.

I waited while the plane slowed and the usual rustling of passengers announced we would soon be free. The instant we docked, people launched themselves from their seats, scrambling for luggage and family members.

“Welcome to Nadi, ladies and gentlemen.” The captain’s voice cut through the raucous. “I appreciate your patience and want to thank you for remaining calm. We have just been informed by air traffic control that the storm is currently making its way north and will soon be over for those transporting to hotels and homes. However, for those travelling on outgoing services—either international connections or island links—your services have been postponed until further notice.”

An annoyed moan crested as people glared at the speakers, blaming the captain for their derailed plans.

Bloody idiots.

Were their attention spans so short they forget what we just lived through?

Shit, what about my flight?

I had to get to Kadavu—the island where I’d be building homes for locals for three months—before tonight. Otherwise, I’d have no job or place to live.

Waiting until the aisle cleared from annoying passengers, I grabbed my messenger bag and slipped from my row. My eyes flickered to the left, looking for Unknown Girl.

She wasn’t there.

She’d bolted.

Not that I could blame her. She’d been nervous as hell most of the flight, let alone the mayhem and turbulence at the end. I wasn’t an anxious flyer, but even I had expected to be shark bait rather than disembarking on two legs.

Well, good riddance.

She’d gone.

I was safe—just like I wanted.

Keeping my head down, I followed the crowd down the air-bridge and into the heaving terminal. Apparently, another flight had just arrived suffering the same warm welcome we had. Voices escalated with tales of drama and danger as people made their way to immigration.

Nothing like a shared tragedy to turn strangers into best friends.

Hooking my bag higher on my shoulder, I brushed past gossipers and beelined for the departure board. The captain had said the storm was moving away. With a little luck, the sea-plane I was meant to catch in an hour to Kadavu would still depart.