Nancy

Nancy

"They're out there shouting: one world, one way,"

Pilot of the Thunder Killer

Nancy’s plane ride aboard the Thunder Killer would continue for another hour.  The single engine plane had struggled to take off but had since hummed 22,000 feet high without interruption. She would complete the journey across the Atlantic and another hour after that she would get to the Madrid-Barajas International Airport.  Life on the ground in Europe had changed a lot since she left a few months ago she had learned.  The large groups of student protesters became larger and more organized. The top-down fast-food financial and dietary support as well as a grass-roots militarization campaign that peaked just after Nancy left spurred much change.  Large fast-food chains had developed road-side distribution centers that sold high sugar and high protein foods to the young and hungry.  Separately and simultaneously, various groups around Europe began celebrating their right to own firearms while dissociating with certain politicians who supported gun control. 

Nancy had been told much of this by the pilot, “It’s not about the guns, but it is.”  He sounded slow-witted to Nancy because he had said each word louder than the last. Maybe he’s just hard of hearing, Nancy wondered.  Then beginning again much quieter he said, “They say Spain is over; it’s split between the rich, the liberal students, and refugees from Turkey.”  The instability of Spain was nothing new but the Newtopian News outlets were very watered down.  The best news station that had hardly covered things like movie star weddings was the nine o’clock Newtopian Press Release (NPR).  NPR was recently sued by the government for releasing sensitive security information and was subsequently disestablished from the top-down.  The final remark of an anchorman who was to be fired was, “There is no way you know.”  The ominous claim by the anchorman was removed from online video websites and NPR made no comment about it. 

Now Nancy could only rely on the information coming from her pilot, “The many students marching today in Spain have come from all walks of life.  You’ve got the rich Muslims, the poor and young Muslims, the liberal students, and even some Newtopians.  But a common theme of theirs is government and world-mindedness.” He snapped his tongue to the bottom of his upper teeth a few times to show what he thought of that idea.  “They’re out-there shouting ‘one world, one way.’ And there are reporters everywhere looking at them, man! It’s crazy.  You just don’t even know.”  At that he turned to begin their flight.  Since then the pilot had been quiet and hardly left the cabin.

Any news of Seamus’ possible release or recovery had been immediately passed to Nancy via Sara while she had been at her grandmother’s.  Public knowledge of his treatment or appeal was scant at best.  Cretan doctors had said that his recovery from the two shots to the head had been nothing short of a miracle.  There was a rumor that he had fought a guard and another said he killed an inmate. Nancy doubted that the last one was true but didn’t know what to believe.  So after hearing her to-be husband had stabbed a Yemen terrorist to death with a toothbrush she asked Sara to not update her anymore.  Although the possibility was remote and the idea was ridiculous it still gave her pause.  She had only known him for four months. 

They were taxiing now; Nancy could tell from the sharper turns around some urban hub she figured to be Madrid.  I hope it’s all the same, Nancy thought glaring down through the small window.  She didn’t believe Newtopia’s news outlets offered an accurate description of the state of Spain.  But she also could tell that the pilot of the little jet had been exaggerating when he said, “This whole thing didn’t start because of the one guy, Barton, Baxton, or whoever he was. Whatever he’s dead now.  But it didn’t start just because he was murdered.  It started because of the hundreds of murders perpetrated by each of those big fast food chains.  We don’t know about them because they cover it up even if it’s their own people they’re killing off.  They don’t want the European Union to get involved or America.”  The fast food chains had become meaner in their own way by the time she left Spain only months ago.  Menu items available were healthier as to accommodate the athletic life of the growing nomadic student population.  Instead of bags of potatoes for French fries there were tubs of coleslaw and gallons of peanut butter.  Instead of shamrock shakes there were protein shakes.  Instead of ten different types of soda there was four and soy milk.  And each road-side distribution center was protected by unarmed private security. Now there’s probably armed security guards everywhere, Nancy thought.

The jet bumped against sudden turbulence and Nancy Hope Rodriguez-Sabotcka hoped.  She hoped for peace and stability in Spain and for the plane.  It would be that much harder to find Marco, Sumeet, and Ador if things had changed as much as the pilot claimed.  The three friends would have the connections to help get her to Crete. And if they couldn’t get her all the way there then at least to Italy.  She hoped that her grandma would forgive her for leaving and sneaking out.  She never did promise her grandma she would stay there but she still also wished for the security of the old lady’s guidance and wisdom.  She also hoped that Sara would forgive her for stealing her laptop.  She felt even worse because Sara had arranged for the flight to Spain.  Nancy’s phone wouldn’t work once she got there and a laptop would help her keep in contact with everyone.  But most of all she hoped her brother would forgive her.  Sara, Nancy’s brother’s wife, had offered most of their savings for the trip to use on food, good hostels or hotels, and bribes. “Don’t worry we have things to work out.  We won’t need it for a while.”  That had made Nancy feel sick but she knew the 8,000 Newtopian coin, Newtopian currency, would keep her safe and help her.

The plane’s wheels screeched and the jets on either side thundered in reverse.  The landing was not unlike a roller coaster so she clinched the arms of her seat.  The plane slowed and finally stopped.  The pilot leaned out from behind the seat and shouted, “ok this is it, get off and I’ll leave. Take your time but hurry up, you know?”  He laughed a thin short laugh but Nancy could tell he wasn’t joking.