Flight 171
(Sprache: Englisch)
In this edge-of-your-seat horror novel, a four-hour flight takes a nightmarish turn when a supernatural creature gives a group of high school students a sinister ultimatum. Devon Marsh is haunted by secrets. Like the identity of the person who killed her...
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In this edge-of-your-seat horror novel, a four-hour flight takes a nightmarish turn when a supernatural creature gives a group of high school students a sinister ultimatum. Devon Marsh is haunted by secrets. Like the identity of the person who killed her twin sister, Emily, in a hit and run accident last Halloween, which Devon has vowed to uncover. Like the things Devon said to Emily just before she died. But she's determined to start fresh when she boards a four-hour flight along with her classmates for their senior class ski trip. Devon never could have guessed those secrets would surface in the most terrifying way when a supernatural creature hijacks their flight and gives the students a deadly ultimatum: Choose one among them to sacrifice before the end of the flight. Or the plane will crash. As the clock ticks down, the creature slowly unearths the passengers' deepest, darkest secrets-and reveals that one of the teens on the plane is responsible for Emily's death. The students must agree on a sacrifice, or there won't be any survivors. But can Devon find a way to stop the creature, or will she give in to her anger and let revenge take control?
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Chapter 1So, class trip poll: if you had to choose between dying in a plane crash or a car accident, which would you pick? Spencer nudges my back with his elbow as we make our way down the Jetway toward our plane. He has a Twizzler hanging out of his mouth and a wiseass grin on his beefy face.
Resist the urge to turn around and kick him in the shin, I silently tell myself. Sometimes he can be so totally clueless.
Outside the tiny Jetway window is the nose of the Sky Royal airplane we re about to board. Rain runs in rivulets down the glass, making the plane look like it s submerged in water. I can barely make out the blurry outlines of the pilots inside the cockpit. The night is dark and full of gathering storm clouds. No lightning yet, but the sky is ominous enough that I can t help wondering if our takeoff will be delayed. Part of me hopes it is. I m still not sure if it s a good idea for me to go on this trip.
Yeah, Devon, which would you choose? Plane or car?
I look past Spencer to Billy, his partner in crime and fellow wrestler on the Greendale team. He reaches up to touch the ceiling of the Jetway with both hands, making sure to flex his biceps as he does. Glancing down at his midsection, he adjusts slightly so his six-pack is clearly visible through his T-shirt. Then he looks up at me, one eyebrow raised like he s expecting me to react more to his body than to the question. Inquiring minds want to know.
Don t be such utter tools, you two. My friend Kiara rolls her eyes and reaches around me to punch both boys biceps hard, first Spencer s, then Billy s.
Ow! Spencer rubs his arm.
Kiara points a finger at him. What kind of question is that? After Emily--the hit-and-run. Her voice drops to a whisper when she says my dead twin s name, then goes back up to full volume. And, considering we re all about to board a plane, it s bad luck to talk about crashing.
Spencer s smile falters. He darts a look at me, then chews on his
... mehr
Twizzler more vigorously until half of it disappears into his mouth.
I drop to one knee and start to pretend-tie my shoe. I let my hair form a curtain over my face so I don t have to see Kiara and the boys give me anxious looks. I m not gonna lose it over one stupid comment. Still, Emily s face floats unbidden through my mind, the way she looked at me that last time, just before her accident. I didn t know it would be the last time. If I had, I wouldn t have done or said what I did.
My throat gets tight. It s hard to swallow around the lump lodged there. I need my drumsticks. Badly. The old me kept them handy for moments like this, when life was weird or awkward or just plain unbearable. I d bang out a rhythm on the nearest hard surface until whatever anxiety I was feeling left my body by way of my hands and the beat. But that was before last October. Halloween night.
I don t play the drums anymore.
I tuck my hands inside my pockets to remind my body of this. Still, there s the echo of a series of rhythms rolling through my head like an itch in a phantom limb.
To my right, the door to the Jetway slams open. A baggage handler wearing a safety vest slips inside, letting a blast of cool March air rush toward us. He shakes the raindrops from his hair, then grabs a pair of strollers from beside the door and ducks back outside. The sudden drop in temperature makes me shiver violently, but it s good, bracing enough to make the tears building in my eyes dry up.
When I stand, Spencer s eyes lock on mine and he winces. Devon. I m sorry. I forgot about . . . God, I guess I wasn t thinking.
Of course he wa
I drop to one knee and start to pretend-tie my shoe. I let my hair form a curtain over my face so I don t have to see Kiara and the boys give me anxious looks. I m not gonna lose it over one stupid comment. Still, Emily s face floats unbidden through my mind, the way she looked at me that last time, just before her accident. I didn t know it would be the last time. If I had, I wouldn t have done or said what I did.
My throat gets tight. It s hard to swallow around the lump lodged there. I need my drumsticks. Badly. The old me kept them handy for moments like this, when life was weird or awkward or just plain unbearable. I d bang out a rhythm on the nearest hard surface until whatever anxiety I was feeling left my body by way of my hands and the beat. But that was before last October. Halloween night.
I don t play the drums anymore.
I tuck my hands inside my pockets to remind my body of this. Still, there s the echo of a series of rhythms rolling through my head like an itch in a phantom limb.
To my right, the door to the Jetway slams open. A baggage handler wearing a safety vest slips inside, letting a blast of cool March air rush toward us. He shakes the raindrops from his hair, then grabs a pair of strollers from beside the door and ducks back outside. The sudden drop in temperature makes me shiver violently, but it s good, bracing enough to make the tears building in my eyes dry up.
When I stand, Spencer s eyes lock on mine and he winces. Devon. I m sorry. I forgot about . . . God, I guess I wasn t thinking.
Of course he wa
... weniger
Autoren-Porträt von Amy Christine Parker
AMY CHRISTINE PARKER is the author of Gated, Astray, and Smash & Grab. She writes full-time from her home near Tampa, Florida, where she lives with her husband, their two daughters, and one ridiculously fat cat.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Amy Christine Parker
- Altersempfehlung: Ab 12 Jahre
- 2022, 288 Seiten, Maße: 14,3 x 20,8 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Penguin Random House
- ISBN-10: 0593563034
- ISBN-13: 9780593563038
- Erscheinungsdatum: 04.11.2022
Sprache:
Englisch
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