Terror Flight

• Tomas Earley, Grade 5
• Short Story
• 2021

“Hello, this is your Capitan speaking we are about to take off, please fasten your seatbelts and remain seated during this procedure for the best safety now relax as we make our way to the runway,” I hear the pilots announcement. I look out of my window and see a private jet soaring across the sky above us. I swear I see someone mysterious in the cockpit he has a mask on and is loading something that looks like a gun. Luckily there’s security on this plane so if someone’s looking for trouble they should be looking elsewhere. Then it hits me. Why is there security on this plane? There’s never been security on any plane I’ve been on so why is there? I get up and as soon as I do the security guard reaches down to his belt. He has a gun! And I don`t think he’s a security guard. I glace back at the other security guard as he points his gun in the air and fires it. An ear-piercing crack makes people scream and fall to the floor. I thought that I would die but I noticed that he had just fired a blank and the air wasn`t being drained. I stare at the security guard. Then he pounces toward me with a handheld taser in his hand. I swiftly duck out of the way and trip over a person laying on the ground hands over their ears. I struggle to my feet and notice the security guard has lost his gun. Its about a metre in front of me I reach out and grab it. I stand up and turn around gun drawn. I see the security guard reach for his gun but then he notices he doesn't have one. He grabs my arm and twists it, but I fight back James Bond style by twisting his hand around and shooting through his legs at the other security guard. I hit him he falls to the ground. I see a stranger crawl up to the fallen security guard and grab his gun. The guy nods at me and I move my head to the side as the guy fires the security guard`s grip tightens then it goes lose and he flops backward. I walk up to the guy who has now put the gun in his pocket and greet him. “Hey thanks for the help back there,” I say glancing toward the security guard. “My names Zack,” Zack says extending a hand. I shake it and he turns around. “That jet is from the American secret service,” he says peering out of the window. “We are taking you to safety,” he continues. “Why me?” I question. “Some bad people are after you, come,” he says walking down the walkway into the bathroom I follow him. “Going down,” he says as the floor drops beneath us and we fall into the private jet and zoom off.
The End.