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  Abby made a mental note to go easy on Jose and try to spend an hour with him to reconnect and bring him up to speed. If she could just get him to understand, maybe he could rally himself to take some of this pressure off her. She felt like she would fall apart if someone challenged her hard enough. Where this internal strength and determination to save the animals came from mystified her.

  A sudden flash hit her. Oh, Mama, this is exactly what you did for us. Her mama relied on no one to help them escape the dangerous tenements of Short Hills when they were children. She had expedited everything alone. She had sucked it up. She had pulled strength from deep within herself and never complained. She hadn’t stopped when she was tired; she had stopped when she was done. Abby’s heart wrenched with pity for her mother. She ached for her mother’s arms, regretting the missed opportunities to thank her for the love and support that had imbued her with the same depth of strength and pragmatism. Again, she couldn’t help remembering her mama’s death that had occurred less than a year ago; the pain and loss still so fresh.

  Moving on down the aisle, she nodded at Peter who sat with Ginger Mae; hostile postures advertising their shattered relationship. She sighed; another problem to work on when they reached their destination.

  Smiling to herself, she spotted Kenya and Daisy holding Mimi on their lap, enjoying her sweetness. Nothing like a little doggie to help enchant a traumatized child. She noticed the bruise on Daisy’s face from Armoni’s fist beginning to lighten to a yellowish purple. Good to see some things are healing. Kenya caught her eye and quickly erased the smile she bestowed on Daisy, needing to continue directing her frosty hostility toward Abby who she refused to forgive for the slap across the face. Clearly Abby would have her hands full after they settled down. She guessed she’d be forced to hold off on that emotional breakdown she planned to pencil in.

  “Miss Preston? A word?” Behind her, Clyde Calloway crooked his finger, beckoning her toward him. He leaned over into the aisle to whisper. “I know it’s none of my damn business, but I feel compelled to inquire into the pedigree of that odd little animal sitting up front with the white dog. He doesn’t look quite right and he seems to be in some kind of distress.” Echo? How could I forget to check on her?

  “Thanks Clyde, and that’s Echo, she’s a girl. I’ll check on her immediately.”

  “But what kind . . .?”

  She absently patted his shoulder, dismissing him, all thoughts focused on Echo. Making her way to the front of the aisle, she noticed Echo sitting with Barney’s head on her lap. She watched as Echo, unaware of her presence, stroked Barney’s head lovingly yet with a frenetic energy. The creature bent down to grasp Barney around the neck as if he might try to escape, then bent further to rub her face on Barney’s fur. Abby could feel reverberations of an unstable aura, desperate undertones but no word whispers. As Abby knelt down in the aisle, she detected an unusual quality to Echo’s motions; she appeared intense, her stroking verging on obsessive.

  “Echo? Is everything okay with you and Barney?” Echo appeared not to hear her.

  Abby reached out, placing her hand on Echo’s shoulder, slowing her down and getting her attention. “Echo, I know something’s going on. For heaven’s sake, what is it?”

  Echo just stared. A moment passed then a clean aura whispered a question. “What is heaven’s sake, Sister Abby?”

  “It’s just an expression.”

  “But what is heaven?”

  Exasperated, Abby decided to answer the question to appease Echo and get back to the problems at hand.

  “Heaven is where you go when you die. If you have lived your life as a good person, God will welcome you with open arms. If you have lived your life without honor, you will go to Hell where the devil lives.”

  Echo’s aura fluctuated. “Has My Barney lived his life with honor?”

  Abby felt taken aback by the question. She placed her face close to Barney’s head, getting a sloppy tongue wash for her efforts. Laughing and wiping her face with her sleeve, she answered Echo. “All dogs live their lives with honor, Echo, especially our good old Barney.”

  “Is My Barney old, sister? You said he is old.”

  “Echo, relax, Barney’s not going anywhere.” Abby wrapped her arms around the two buddies, kissing them as she rubbed her face on theirs. “I’m going back to Jose. If you need me, just send me a message, okay, Echo?” She stood, turning back down the aisle as Echo resumed her obsessive affection with Barney who, despite Abby’s concern, obviously reveled in it.

  As Abby made her way back down the aisle, she looked away from Clyde, not wanting to give him an opportunity to reopen his questions about Echo.

  Glancing at her watch, she was surprised to see how much time had passed since they had taken off. They should be landing in Newark in an hour or so. Her breast swelled with relief as she congratulated herself for getting this far without mishap. A feeling of confidence and euphoria engulfed her, stimulating the urge to shake out her wings and tail that remained firmly constrained underneath her clothes. Maybe now she could take the time to rest her eyes and clear her mind for a quick twenty. With a smile, she slid into the seat behind Jose and his monkeys, leaning over to report.

  “Things look pretty good, Jose. I’m going to try to take a nap. Why don’t you try too? You and I can discuss the logistics of the next leg later while we wait for the plane to land.”

  “Yeah, I can use a nap.” Jose yawned.

  Abby settled down, her eyes closing against the gentle murmur of occasional conversation from the other passengers and the droning vibrations of the engines on the transport.

  *

  As Abby closed her eyes, full of confidence, she dozed, unaware of the creature that sat at attention on the other side of the rickety door separating the passengers from the cargo area.

  Caesar’s unblinking watchful eyes scanned the cargo area, inventorying his fellow refugees from the Big Cat Sanctuary, wondering where the elderly primates had come from. He knew they had not lived at the sanctuary. They seemed to get along fine with the sanctuary’s primates, although he could see the young chimpanzee might be a little too much for them. He turned back to the door that he had observed closing on Scotty and his companions over two hours ago as they disappeared down the aisle to take their seats, Echo clinging to Scotty’s arms. He must not lose sight of their whereabouts. Very slowly he inched his powerful, magnificent body down onto the smooth metal floor of the plane, forgoing the comfort of the moving blankets enjoyed by the rest of the wildlife. Fastening his eyes to the door, he waited patiently.

  Chapter 5

  Ten minutes before Captain Marc Segal and his co-captain, Karen James, were to start their approach to Newark that usually took approximately twenty minutes, the captain found himself consoling his partner about her lackluster love life.

  “Karen, if you’d consider moving to Vegas where I live, you could get away from all the hillbillies you date in that Podunk town you hang your hat in.”

  “Come on, Marc, you don’t care about who I date. You just want a free sitter for all those kids of yours.” Captain Segal stretched his Nevada-tanned and muscled arms as he cracked up over Karen’s comment.

  “I know the company would love to have you at home base instead of that backwater you live in. Even though we don’t have the mountains and wildlife you love so much, I can promise you, Vegas men know how to treat a girl. They also know what a dentist is. No missing teeth or hinky marriage connections to their cousins.”

  Karen reached over and gave him a hard punch on his sculpted shoulder. He reached over and flipped the cap off the short, dark hair that made her look like a gamin pixie. Not an easy feat for such a big girl.

  “Pet Air 1952, this is ground control. You are ordered to immediately change course and put down at JFK. Repeat, change course for JFK for immediate landing. This is a federal emergency. Repeat—this is a federal emergency. All aircraft being diverted to their nearest
airports.” Marc grabbed the mic, glancing at Karen’s white face, all traces of horseplay vanished.

  “Ground control, this is Pet Air 1952. Diverting to JFK. Any heads up on the problem?”

  “No information at this time, Pet Air. Order issued from National Security Council with the consent of the White House. Radar jammed here, it’s a mad house.”

  “Ten-four, ground control. Out.” Karen busied herself plotting their new course. Marc ran his hand over his thatch of caramel hair in frustration, tension creeping into his voice.

  “Karen, what the hell could be up? You got your XiPhone here?”

  “Yeah, take it, I need to finish this. We don’t want to run into any other craft being rerouted this way.”

  Marc snatched up the phone and called his wife in Harrison, a large residential community directly outside Vegas. Most residents lived there to quickly commute to their jobs in the casinos that had all but closed their gaming halls. Who had money to gamble? The giant structures had been converted to housing, service businesses and support industries for the millions of people who resided in this most unusual city that still retained the architecture and outward glitter of a bygone decade. A few of the hotels still held tightly to the business of conventions and corporate meetings that managed to funnel precious dollars into the economy of the tarnished city.

  Marc drummed his fingers impatiently as his wife did not pick up the phone. He suddenly drew his breath sharply as he listened on his end. Karen watched as he disconnected and set the phone down, hesitant puzzlement coloring his voice as he reported to Karen. “All service is out in Harrison. Why would that be?”

  “I don’t know, Marc. Check the wires, the media will know by now.” She watched as he flicked his finger over the screen, stopping to read. He sat frozen as Karen quietly noticed the lines of silent tears coursing from his unblinking eyes.

  “Marc? Marc, what is it?” Panic sputtered like a child’s lit sparkler, deep in the pit of her stomach.

  He raised his eyes to her. “Vegas . . . hit. Some kind of bomb. No one knows yet. Harrison . . . oh, God, my babies, my wife.” Marc looked gut shot, the impact not yet registering with Karen. “Oh God, oh God, they’ve done it now.”

  “Who, Marc, what’s happening?” She grabbed the device from his hands to read for herself as Marc continued to cry and moan into his trembling hands.

  “Oh no. God.” She read the dreadful report, knowing their very lives rested in the hands of cowardly politicos and what was left of their gutted armed forces. Reading on, she could sense the panic in the chaotic writing of the media outlet.

  “Losses in the millions . . . experts to the scene . . . barricades . . . radiation . . . denials . . . from Iran . . . Russia being eyed . . . China defensive and outraged. The President to speak within the hour. Retaliation assumed . . . all aircraft ordered grounded . . . questions being asked . . . are there more?”

  Shell-shocked, Karen took a moment to think. First, they must inform the passengers. If they suspect the pilots had changed the flight path, they’d be angry and belligerent. Better to start with the truth. Then I need to get this puppy to JFK.

  “Marc, who’s going to tell the passengers?”

  Marc stared at her like a zombie; his eyes unfocused, his face slack.

  “Okay, I’ll do it. You need to pull yourself together. We need to be strong. I don’t need to tell you those passengers back there all have families too.” She rested her hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently and, with a white face, pulled herself out of her seat and stumbled to the door of the passenger compartment.

  Chapter 6

  Abby’s eyes popped open as she realized the background noise in her nap had changed. She looked around the compartment, observing all eyes resting on a standing figure at the front of the plane.

  The co-captain, what’s her name . . . Karen something? Abby assessed the demeanor of the tall, robust young woman, instantly alert. Something’s wrong. The co-captain’s tight smile struck Abby as unnaturally grim. She reached between the seats to poke Jose.

  “Jose, wake up.”

  The pilot moved down the aisle, clearing her throat. She started to speak, the words catching in her throat.

  “Um . . . hello, I’m Karen James, your copilot. All aircraft have been ordered to land ASAP at the closest airport available, by order of the White House and the National Security Council. I am sorry to announce . . . a . . . that a bomb of some type has wiped out the city of Las Vegas.”

  A chorus of audible gasps emanated from the stunned passengers. As demands for the facts overwhelmed them, the passenger’s voices erupted, peppering Karen with questions as she stood in the aisle holding her hands up against the onslaught. She managed haltingly to convey the facts as she knew them.

  Abby’s mind operated at full speed, trying to calculate the effect this news would have on her plans. Before long, all eyes turned toward her for guidance. Karen took this moment to inform them of the change to their destination.

  “No. Absolutely not. We’ll continue to Newark as planned.” Abby stood tall, brooking no argument. “I need to have a conversation with the pilot if you don’t mind.”

  Karen dejectedly turned to enter the cockpit. As Abby marched down the aisle, hands and plaintive voices flailed at her, hindering her progress. She turned to make an announcement.

  “Please, please. I know this is quite a shock. Let me speak to the pilot and I’ll get back to you. Just give me a moment.” As she turned to enter the cockpit, she reached down to scoop up Echo so quickly no one noticed.

  “Whoa, what the heck is that?” Captain Segal’s voice cracked, his worry and heartbreak leaking a quiet bitterness as he stared at Echo.

  Abby ignored him to ask a question. “What will happen if we try to continue on our original route?”

  “Well, we are still headed toward Newark. Ground control has been calling, questioning why we haven’t rerouted. Karen, you about ready?”

  “Ready.”

  Abby bit her lip. She didn’t want to implant them for fear of impairing their coordination. But she would allow Echo to do it if it became her only option.

  “Name your price. I want you to put us down at Newark. It’s critical for everyone on this plane. And the animals. My trucks are in Newark. I can’t house them anywhere if we put down in JFK. You have to make them understand.”

  Captain Segal's eyes narrowed. “Miss Preston, there is no amount of money you can offer to me to do what I don’t want to do. My family lives in Las Vegas.”

  “Oh, God, I’m so sorry.” Abby’s hand flew up to her mouth in dismay, tears surfacing behind her shades to dribble down her chin. They all stared at one another, the cockpit thrumming with tension. Captain Segal’s tone softened as he reluctantly picked up the radio transmitter.

  “I’ll see what I can do. I’m sure I can come up with an emergency of my own. Didn’t you just say a male lion broke out of his cage?” Nodding gratefully, Abby held out her hand. He held it briefly and waved her out of the cockpit. Karen silently nodded as Abby left to return to the passengers.

  *

  “You didn’t tell her, Marc.”

  “What difference would it make? It’s pure speculation that another bomb is headed to New York City. The authorities don’t have any proof yet. Check your XiPhone for an update. I’ll call ground control and break the news to them.” Captain Segal and his copilot reverted to type: trained professionals doing a job that entrusted them with other people’s lives. The job took precedence no matter what was happening to them personally.

  “Ground control, this is Pet Air 1952, come in, please.” Marc steeled himself, drying the last vestige of bitter tears from his eyes with the back of his hand as ground control came in.

  *

  Abby stood in the aisle as everyone shouted questions. She dropped Echo back in her seat with Barney, who looked anxious until Echo curled up next to him.

  Echo’s aura s
wirled in her mind. “Sister Abby, there is no time. We need to go quickly.”

  Abby held up her hand against the voices peppering her with questions; Clyde’s and Dezi’s the loudest. “What do you mean, Echo?” Abby looked up as Clyde’s lumbering figure approached. “Echo, let me calm these people down first. I’ll be back as soon as I can. We’ll talk then.” Smoothing down a tuft of curly white hair over Barney’s eyes, she rose to face the coming onslaught.

  “Miss Preston, can you please spare me a few minutes?” Clyde’s mature handsome countenance showed dregs of weariness, his eyes aching with suffering. Dezi stood behind him, fidgety and wired.

  “Hey, babe, ya know I didn’t sign up for no trouble. We need to turn this plane around and get back to Florida. I’m no way gunna get stuck in New York or New Jersey.”

  “Dezi, can you please take your seat. Let me handle a few things with Clyde and then I’ll get to you.”

  Dezi’s face fell like a pimply faced skinny geek rejected by the prom queen. His whining softened to a pitiful squeak. “You won’t forget Dezi now, will you, babe?”

  “Shhh, go sit.” She patted him encouragingly as Clyde stood quietly, clearly in grave distress. She turned her attention to him.

  “Miss Preston, I’m not liking the sound of all this. If there’s one bomb, there’ll be others. Our damn fool President might even decide to retaliate, bringing on a shitstorm. My wife is alone in an unfamiliar town with my grandbabies. If planes are grounded, how will I get back to Tampa?”

  “Clyde, I do have a plan with a safe place for us all to wait this out. I’ll make an announcement as soon as we land and are joined by the other truckers. I’m concerned about the safety of us all. I have a mission to complete with other animals but I’ll put our safety first. Can you reach your wife on your cell?”