7:50PM
Samuel Simmons lurched backwards and came to in a surge of danger and adrenaline. Information flooded in.
Plane.
Business class.
They were landing.
He was towering over a guy in a window seat. The guy’s arms were jerking in front of his face. Samuel was pressing him up against the cabin wall. A college kid. The guy wore a letterman’s jacket with a football on the sleeve.
And he had a party store mask of a playing card. A big rectangle of the King of Clubs. Blood all over it.
Samuel’s free arm was pulled back with his fist cocked. He must have been about to smash this kid in the face.
He had no idea why.
Samuel looked up and around, scanning for other threats. Runway sped by outside the window, the plane steadied, then scrambled to clear the runway.
Confident he was safe elsewhere, Samuel hammered the kid out of violent inertia. The chicken-bone crack of dislodged jaw made the woman in the row behind him scream. She covered her child with her upper body.
The college kid blinked back at…
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