Flight 828 Novels & Stories

I watched the wreckage burn, my hands hanging uselessly at my sides. Hours passed. Or maybe it was minutes. Time stopped behaving normally. Authorities sealed the area. Statements were made. A spokesperson stood before a cluster of microphones, his expression grave, rehearsed. “Flight 728 to Paris experienced engine failure shortly after takeoff. There were no survivors.” No survivors. The words hit harder than the explosion. Around me, people gasped. Someone cried. A woman collapsed into another man’s arms. I felt nothing. Not grief. Not tears. Not even rage.

The television turned on, and news reports about the crash of Flight 825 filled the screen. Alexander's body suddenly froze. No matter how much Isabella wanted to cause trouble, she couldn't have bought off so many news stations to put on a show with her. So... What Lucas had said this morning was all true. He looked at the airline crash notification that his assistant had delivered, lying on the coffee table in the living room. With trembling hands, he opened the passenger information. The large characters "Isabella Ashford" and "Kimberly Morrison" were like blades piercing his eyes.

Her brows furrowed when she saw an unfamiliar number, but she forced herself to stay calm. “Hello? Chase?” she said hopefully. But it wasn’t his voice that came through. Instead, a deep male voice spoke from the other end. “Is this Mrs. Althea Grayson?” Althea froze, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. “Yes, this is she. What’s going on?” “This is Captain Reynolds from the SunCity Aviation Authority. I’m calling to inform you—” He paused briefly, exhaling heavily before continuing. “The aircraft, flight SC-927, carrying Mr. Chase Miller and the other passengers, has gone missing from radar approximately two hours ago.”

The bustling airport was filled with travelers, and Tony observed the various faces passing by. After a few minutes, an announcement echoed through the airport speakers, catching everyone's attention. "Attention all passengers, Flight 308 to London is now boarding at Gate 12. Passengers on Flight 308, please proceed to Gate 12 for boarding." Tony checked his boarding pass and confirmed that it was indeed Flight 308 to London. He gathered his belongings and joined the queue forming near Gate 12. As he stood there, he noticed a familiar face in the crowd, moving hurriedly towards the gate.

My voice drops to a deadly, gravelly whisper. “You check that screen right now, or I will have this entire hangar burning before your shift ends. It will be the last flight you ever track.” The woman gasps, her face going pale as she looks between my brutal expression and Zli’s desperate, burning eyes. Whatever she sees convinces her we are the end of the world, because she quickly turns to her computer and starts typing with trembling fingers. “Lydia Moretti,” she murmurs, scanning the logs. “Tail number N-8055. It’s on the taxiway now, departing for Zurich. But you’re not allowed out on the—”

I threw the wasted coffee cup in the trash can and looked at the damage done. I tried wiping the stain with my hands but to no avail. I glanced at my watch and saw that there were still ten minutes left until the flight, so I decided to just change. I was about to open my luggage and get a new shirt, but I heard someone speak in the intercom once again. “All passengers of flight 20189 bound to Haliyah province, please board the plane now.”

“May I have your attention, passengers? This is your captain speaking. Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen welcome to Rightwing Flight 85A, non-stop from Yuro to Xei, Shangwei. Checking our time it’s 2:41 pm. Unlucky at the turn of events, the weather looks rough, but we are expecting to land in Xei International Airport approximately twenty minutes behind of schedule. If the weather cooperates we should get a great view of the city as we descend. Until then, sit back, relax, and enjoy the rest of the flight.” After the dark rigid voice ceased from echoing at the intercom, a bright chime bell melody followed and skip to the air in harmony. The heavy silence once again reign the entire cabin.

As she climbed the stairs, a sickening realization dawned: For the first time in a long while… She felt safer near Ethan. Not because she trusted him, but because the storm outside was quieter than the one inside her head. MEANWHILE, in California. Nathan had just arrived at the airport and was about to board when suddenly, a chime echoed overhead, followed by the neutral, detached voice of an announcer: ~Attention passengers on Flight 227 to New York-JFK. Due to severe weather conditions on the East Coast, all flights to New York have been delayed until further notice. We apologize for the inconvenience.~

Megan asked, "Did you find the name of my client, Mr. Devon Justice?" "Yes. His name is listed on page five of the printout as a passenger on American Airlines flight 5383 which departed Myrtle Beach at 8:57 am on August 2nd and arrived into Chicago at 12:57 pm the same day." Megan nodded, and said, "That document does not indicate whether Mr. Justice remained in Chicago or made a connecting flight, does it?"

She asked, "Tell me everything, Samson. What did Rachna and Savita discuss with you?" Samson sat beside Isabella, a smile lighting up his face as he recalled the conversation. Samson said, "Well, Rachna informed us about an upcoming charter flight that Savita facilitated. It's a 15-member troop from a film production unit, and they will be flying from Gorakhpur to Delhi and then Mumbai before returning to Gorakhpur." Isabella nodded, eyes widened in surprise, understanding the significance of the opportunity. She exclaimed, "That's fantastic news. It sounds like an exciting venture. Samson! The charter flight will not only bring in revenue but also showcase the capabilities of our Gulfstream