Frostbite by Eric Pete Page A

Vegas?”
    As I approached my next gate, and too many nearby ears, I wrapped up the love fest. “Thanks, but I got some other work to put in right now. Gonna have to catch you later.”
    Something had me feeling off though. Years of instincts built up like a scab, but couldn’t put my finger on it. Bothered me enough that I stopped in the restroom, rechecking my ID in the stall and ensuring no followers before exiting.
    Confident that my shit was tight, I joined the group of flyers waiting for their rows to be called. Could’ve easily left the airport and snagged a rental car instead. Just me and the open road with Sirius XM if I so chose. But my sudden departure may have attracted unwanted attention that I’d only imagined until this point. All I had to do now was to breathe easy and enjoy the flight to Oakland. Then a drive up I-5 to Seattle and it would be all good.
    “First time flying?” the middle-aged businessman shuffling beside me asked in his even Midwestern cadence. The witty flight attendant on the mic had just called the group ahead of me. By the way we were both hovering, letting others move in front, he probably was boarding next as well.
    “No. Have a sick aunt in Tennessee who’s on my mind,” I replied on a whim. Damn me for letting someone try to read my mind. Must’ve stood out by my body language.
    “Oh. I am so sorry,” he offered, feeling sufficiently bad for intruding on my conflicted thoughts. “Didn’t mean to be all in your business.”
    “That’s quite all right, sir,” I replied, a bit of Southern drawl creeping in now as the flight attendant called on our batch of seats for boarding.
    Found my way easily to an empty seat in row fifteen. Seat C. After stowing my single carry-on bag in the overhead, I hung my noise-cancelling headphones around my neck. Prepared for whenever we’d be free to use approved electronic devices . Except, as ordinary as mine looked, with a flip of the switch in the opposite direction, mine would amplify external sounds through its microphone rather than muffle them. Spying on others’ conversations while I pretended to sleep was always an amusing distraction. For you never know when a borrowed portion of someone else’s life might be of use.
    No one else was seated next to me, giving me an unobstructed view of the tarmac as the cabin doors shut and we were told to turn off our phones. Once the plane cleared the gate, I finally eased back into my seat, letting the tension ebb from my muscles as some clumsy freestyle explaining the different ways to kiss your ass good-bye in the event cabin pressure was lost blared over the intercom. After a delay of several minutes, we began taxiing for takeoff. Oakland and a rental car under yet another name awaited me.
    The woman seated in the row in front of me made the sign of the cross then closed her eyes, a silent prayer for a safe flight no doubt. While she relied on her beliefs, I focused on my belief in myself. Discretely counted the number of passengers along with the flight attendant who, when finished, quickly scurried to her seat in the front of the plane for takeoff. The rev of the engines as we entered onto the runway for takeoff, led me to don my headphones.
    Then, just as the plane entered onto the final runway for takeoff, their power was cut.
    “Aww, what the fuck?” an older man at the back of the plane with zero patience blurted out. The random groans throughout the cabin were in agreement.
    “‘Wanna get away,’ my ass,” someone else with a sense of humor added. I removed my headphones, expecting some news.
    And it came.
    “Uh ... ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking,” the monotone voice rumbled over the plane’s intercom system. “I sincerely apologize for the delay, but our flight has been diverted momentarily for further screening. Nothing to be alarmed about and I’m sure everything will be done to assure we’re back on our way as soon as possible and that all