Chapter Eight of "Samuel Light, Spiritual Detective: The Shasta Affair," is now posted. www.johnpirillo.com
Samuel Light, Spiritual Detective: The Shasta Affair
by John Pirillo
Samuel flipped foreword, barely catching himself before he slammed his head into the seat in front of him, which was just coming back. He caught himself and steadied his trembling arms a moment, before carefully reseating himself.
"You all right, Sammie?"
"Later." Whispered Samuel, making a motion with his eyes to behind him.
Jimbo didn't look. He knew the signal well. Trouble. Big trouble.
Samuel waited until everyone in the cabin had settled down, including the man behind him, who soon fell asleep and was snoring. Samuel double checked, using his window glass reflection to look at the man. He was out like a light. No wonder after what he had done earlier that night. Probably scared to death and worried about being caught too.
Samuel didn't have to put his hands on the man to know he was desperate and that he was armed and dangerous. He had felt that part of him when he was the man for those brief moments. He had a thirty caliber hand gun with a silencer. Probably a cheap mobster from the old Mafia days, looking for another day of glory. Or...a drug runner, maybe? He hadn't caught that, but anything was possible. He didn't always get a complete reading on the person who he touched, or touched him.
One of these days he was going to have to figure out a way to shield himself from random contacts like that, but in this case he suspected it wasn't random at all. Too many times so called random touches had turned out to be a plea from someone on the other side for him to right a wrong or to bring justice to someone in power. He wasn't the strongarm of God, but he was a man willing to do what was right.
Jimbo looked over at him. He hadn't slept a wink. He had kept a hand on his own weapon as well. He had managed to get it past the Homeland Security because he worked for them in his spare time as well as on the ranch. How the other man had gotten past reeked of corruption and Samuel suspected his current job wouldn't end until he found out who was on the take at the airport.
Money was a god to so many on the Earth planet. People would sell out their own parents and brothers and sisters, even sell them. He had to derail that line of thinking as it was negative, and by nature he was a positive person, even though at times that became very hard because of the sometimes cruel people he had to deal with.
Or crazy! He considered.
He remembered contacting Einstein once. The man helped many now on the Other Side, coming to our Earth Planet to consult and help those in need, especially the scientists, for that was his forte. He had saved many a scientist from giving up and going over the deep end, when things were going dark for them.
Einstein and Marilyn usually came together to visit him, sometimes at the same time, sometimes separately, but always together. Something about their friendship was both unique and refreshing to him.
Al had sat on Samuel's patio railing and looked at him with those big luminous eyes when Samuel began complaining about all the evil on the planet. Saddam Hussein. Osama Bin Laden. Presidents who used their power to kill innocents in the name of democracy. Power went to heads, many heads he had learned over the years.
Al had shaken his head. "Samuel, people are given choices. Sometimes they have to make do with a bad one, when a worse one would've been...well, worse."
Samuel had shrugged angrily. "But how can you ever justify the killing of innocents...babies and children?"
"You don't justify it. You accept it as a course of action that a soul is going to learn from one day or another. You know now that no one ever truly dies. It's only an illusion that many still believe in. Death is a big joke and a lie."
Samuel sighed. "And the worst part is that many in power know that to be true, and they still keep on perpetrating the lie."
"That's because they have to learn their lessons too, Samuel. This world is a great big school. No one is exempt from learning here. No one. Even Jesus had to learn for a time while he was here. No one knows everything. It is impossible. Perfection doesn't exist, only an ever evolving state of it."
Samuel shook those memories away and looked at Jimbo, who moved his legs so Samuel could stand up and get out. Samuel stretched at first, then scooted past Jimbo's knees and into the aisle. Further down, he saw a Hostess giving a pillow to an older man. He nodded to Jimbo, who also got up and followed him down the aisle.
Jimbo flashed his Homeland Security badge and her eyes widened, when at first she thought he was trying to pick up on her. It was the stunning knockout they had both seen earlier.
They went into the business section with the Hostess following, then turned to look at her. She looked at them, fearfully, but alert. "What can I do for you?"
Jimbo looked to Samuel, who smiled to help ease the fear of the Hostess. His smile was genuine and she could feel it. She relaxed. "We have a little problem."
"A man seated behind me is a murderer."
She started to gasp, then caught herself.
That was when they both noticed that the man was getting up from his seat and heading their way.
"Oh crap!" Jimbo said, reaching for his gun.
Samuel stopped him with a look. "Let's just step out of his way and pretend we're waiting for something to drink.
The Hostess nodded and went into her compartment and began shifting ice into two cups she pulled out of another compartment.
The Man slowed down and spoke to her. "Where's the bathrooms, Miss?"
"This is the business section. Regular flight bathrooms are on the opposite end, near the back. Two of them."
"Thanks." He said. He smiled at her coldly, then gave Samuel and Jimbo a close look for a moment and headed back the other way.
"He's made us." Jimbo said urgently.
"I know." Samuel agreed.
The Hostess became frightened again. "If he has a weapon and fires it, the cabin will decompress."
Samuel smiled at her again, but this time her trembling didn't go away. "I won't let that happen."
"What are you, Superman?"
Jimbo smiled at her next. "Oh, if only you knew."
They took their drinks and went casually back towards their seats, watching the bathrooms in back for the man, but he didn't come out.
"I don't like this." Jimbo said, again reaching for his gun.
Samuel caught him again with a touch. "Tell the Captain to very gently start dropping altitude, but fast!"
Jimbo nodded and went back towards the Pilot's cockpit.
Samuel waited a moment, then set his drink down on a tray already open. An older woman whose eyes were closed, opened her eyes. She eyed the soda, bubbling in front of her. "I don't like caffeinated drinks."
"It's not caffeinated." He told her.
She smiled and took it.
Samuel took his time, but headed for the bathrooms. He felt the jet's angle slowly decline. Just the right amount. Some of the other passengers noted it too, but said nothing and shut their eyes again.
The cabin was dimly lit because most people had their overhead lights off. A few here and there were lit up for newspapers. A few were using tablets to read a book or search news. Samuel nodded to them as he passed, noting that there were quite a few families on this flight. Damn! He thought to himself. Why did it always have to be such huge odds
He was nearing the back when he felt a slight warmth coming to his right. He looked over and Al was seated in an empty chair. M was standing next to him, smiling brightly. She was humming a show tune. "Blondes Make Good Friends."
"He's not coming out." Al said brightly.
"I know." Samuel said.
"What are you going to do about it?" Al asked.
"Scream for help."
Al laughed. M chuckled.
"What do you suggest?"
"Wait. You've already done the right thing."
"I don't like waiting. Things happen. Bad things." Samuel complained.
Al sighed. "Sometimes good things happen too."
Then the sound of a gunshot, the same time as the bathroom door flung open. The air inside the cabin began sucking towards the opened bathroom. People screamed as their loose papers and cups flew into the air.
Samuel hung onto the chair next to him. The surge of pulling air was not as strong as it could have been. The Pilot had done enough.
Samuel dragged himself carefully towards the back, wary of the open bathroom door. Why had the man shot a hole in the bathroom wall, if he intended to survive. It didn't make any sense.
Samuel reached just before the door and the Man came out, covering Samuel with his gun. The silencer touched Samuel's chest. "I used to fly when I was in the Air Force. Special Ops. I know when a plane's dropping revs and alts."
"What do you want from me? Samuel asked.
"Well, for starters...you can die."
The man pulled the trigger of his gun.