{"id":2716,"date":"2014-10-26T18:43:40","date_gmt":"2014-10-26T18:43:40","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/?p=2716"},"modified":"2014-10-26T18:43:40","modified_gmt":"2014-10-26T18:43:40","slug":"bargain-ian-hunter","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/bargain-ian-hunter\/","title":{"rendered":"\u201cThe Bargain\u201d by Ian Hunter"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"planewindow1\"<\/a><\/h1>\n

\u201cThe Bargain\u201d<\/h1>\n

by Ian Hunter<\/p>\n

\nFrom the comfort of his airline-assigned seat, Terry watched the storm raging outside his window. Terry hated to fly. Bumpy flights like these were the worst. Terry decided to get his mind off the turbulence the only way he knew how: idle chatter.<\/p>\n

\u201cThese damn little planes are so cramped. Never enough room for your legs.\u201d As if to punctuate Terry\u2019s point, a booming thunderclap rang out that seemed to rattle the whole plane. The woman sitting next to Terry nodded, but clearly wasn\u2019t interested in Terry\u2019s opinion on air travel.<\/p>\n

Unfazed, Terry continued. \u201cAnd the kids. The damn kids. I\u2019ve flown enough to know it isn\u2019t the babies that cause the most trouble, it\u2019s the two to four year olds. Loud, obnoxious, and big enough to shake your seat as they kick it from behind,\u201d Terry sputtered hatefully. He almost continued, then thought better of it.<\/p>\n

Two long minutes later, the plane lurched downward and quickly corrected, making Terry\u2019s stomach jump. Suddenly anxious, Terry continued his earlier speech. \u201cNot like the parents are any help, either! Just coddling the little terrors, saying yes, it\u2019s ok to bother everyone around you, because you\u2019re just a perfect little\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Terry\u2019s cut off his narrative mid-sentence. Something was wrong. The hum of the engines was gone, as was the roar of the storm outside. Then, something caught Terry\u2019s eye. He was near the front of the cabin which made it unmistakable. As if from nowhere, a man in a finely tailored black suit now stood at the front of the one aisle, carrying a fine leather briefcase.<\/p>\n

The man had sharp features. A long, pointed nose, slender cheekbones, and short cropped hair. But his eyes\u2026they seemed to be completely black. No color to be seen. Dead.<\/p>\n

By now, everyone on the plane had noticed the lack of normal airplane noise and were focused on the new arrival.<\/p>\n

The man began to speak. \u201cGood evening, everyone. It is my sad duty to inform you that you are all dead.\u201d Though the man spoke with a loud, firm voice, his inflection wasn\u2019t quite right. Like a computerized voice trying to figure out how a human would speak, but getting it just slightly wrong.<\/p>\n

\u201cThree minutes ago, a lightning strike damaged the auto-pilot systems on this airplane. Twenty-five seconds ago, your co-pilot, James Forrester, 27, father of one, was killed when an undiagnosed aneurism in his brain ruptured.\u201d<\/p>\n

A shocked murmur ripple through the plane. Without breaking rhythm, the man continued, \u201cIn thirty five seconds, your pilot, Megan Peters, 56, mother of two, grandmother of two, will suffer a fatal heart attack from the stress of watching her co-pilot die. The plane will crash. Each of you will die.\u201d<\/p>\n

People gasped. Others looked around uncertainly. It wasn\u2019t until this moment that Terry realized: the man had not moved his mouth. Only the faint whisper of a smile rested across his pallid lips. He realized he wasn\u2019t even \u201chearing\u201d them; the words seemed to just slither into Terry\u2019s head.<\/p>\n

Someone from the back of the plane shouted out, \u201cHow do you know that? Who are you?\u201d<\/p>\n

The smile got bigger, allowing a glimpse of pointed teeth. Again, his mouth did not move as he replied, \u201cI am Death.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBullshit!\u201d a big guy shouted from the front row as he stood, reaching for the suited man. \u201cThis is just some nut jo\u2026\u201d he tried to say, but as the big guy grabbed the man\u2019s arm, his sentence was cut off and he collapsed to the floor. Terry could see trickles of blood running from his still-open eyes and nose. He did not move.<\/p>\n

A woman screamed. People in the back of the plane strained to see what had happened. News spread quickly.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou are all dead.\u201d He paused. His smile grew, showing more of the razor sharp smile. \u201cHowever,\u201d the man said, \u201cI am here to offer you all\u2026 a bargain.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI am\u2026\u201d he paused, as if searching for the right words. \u201cIn need,\u201d he finished. \u201cIf each of you agree to carry out a single task on my behalf, I will spare your pilot her life. She will land and you will live.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe decision must be unanimous,\u201d the man continued. \u201cIf you break our pact, the consequences would be\u2026\u201d he said trailing off. \u201cDire. For you, and for those you love. Consider.\u201d<\/p>\n

A long moment passed, and the man surveyed the cabin. He seemed to make eye contact with everyone. As Terry locked eyes with the man, with those dead eyes, his skin crawled. But at the same time, he felt a pang of relief. He wanted to live, and the man knew that. The man nodded almost imperceptibly and refocused his gaze at the next passenger.<\/p>\n

Once finished, the man began to walk down the aisle, reaching into his briefcase. He took small slips of parchment from the case, handing one to each person. Terry watched, neck twisted, as the man handed out the last slip. The voice returned once more, stating \u201cWe have an accord.\u201d<\/p>\n

With as little fanfare as his arrival, the man was gone. The roar of the engines returned and the storm resumed its assault on the plane. No one spoke for the uneventful remainder of the flight. Two ambulances awaited the plane on the tarmac; one for the guy passenger (who had suffered an apparent heart attack) and another for the copilot.<\/p>\n

\u2666 \u2666 \u2666<\/p>\n

Terry waved to his wife as he pulled out of the garage for his commute to work. He glanced down at the small parchment from three years ago. Today was the day. Instead of getting into the northbound lane that would shuttle him to work, he got into the southbound lane. He reached past the recently sharpened kitchen knife he had hidden in his bag, and pulled out the road map he\u2019d packed. It was a long way to his destination, but he was willing to make the drive. Terry hated to fly.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

From the comfort of his airline-assigned seat, Terry watched the storm raging outside his window. Terry hated to fly. Bumpy flights like these were the worst. Terry decided to get his mind off the turbulence the only way he knew how:<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":2717,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_bbp_topic_count":0,"_bbp_reply_count":0,"_bbp_total_topic_count":0,"_bbp_total_reply_count":0,"_bbp_voice_count":0,"_bbp_anonymous_reply_count":0,"_bbp_topic_count_hidden":0,"_bbp_reply_count_hidden":0,"_bbp_forum_subforum_count":0,"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_uf_show_specific_survey":0,"_uf_disable_surveys":false,"footnotes":"","_links_to":"","_links_to_target":""},"categories":[347,88],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2716","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-horror-contest-2014","category-horror"],"aioseo_notices":[],"amp_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2716","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2716"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2716\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2718,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2716\/revisions\/2718"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2717"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2716"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2716"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2716"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}