Flight 12

Flight 12 – a serial novel by Travis Creel

CHAPTER NINE: PAST MEETS PRESENT

Previously:

• There are twelve residents at the Phallic Tower, and the author doesn't expect you to keep them all straight at this point. Those appearing in this chapter are Seth, Harry, Dai, and Paul.

• For the second day in a row, Seth awakens in the nude with his clothing nowhere in evidence.

• Paul (who earlier stripped and tried to kiss Dai when encountering a blue dodecagon) wakes up wearing only a jockstrap. As a teenager, he had lost his anal virginity similarly attired.

• The men are trapped inside the tower, as the door handle has mysteriously vanished. When Dai tries to open the door, he finds an envelope addressed to "Lee S. Herrick." (Seth's last name is Herrick.)

• Underground, Stan, arriving moments after his friend Al, is greeted by the plane's pilot, Barry, who says that Hamish is his `master'. Barry introduces him to his cellmate (named Ian). All three are nude.

• Flashback: At a `chance meeting' engineered by an ex-boyfriend (named Ian), Seth encounters Abe at his birthday party and tries to make amends for being overly aggressive on their second date. They reconcile, tentatively, agreeing to have a third date, one that would not involve sex.

• • • • • • • • SUNDAY, DECEMBER 2 * * * * * * * *

STAN'S CELL – STAN

I was uncomfortable sharing a bed with another man. It seemed narrow for a double bed, and there were times when Ian's body touched mine. The absence of sheets and blankets didn't help: It was just two nude men on a bed, without much space in between. At least he didn't try to molest me.

I was full of questions. How did our pilot wind up as some kind of servant to a figure named Hamish? Who was this Hamish? Did he build this place, and how? Why were Barry and Ian naked? And where was Al – was he okay?

It was time to pump my roommate for information.

• Ian, where are we?

• It's weird, right?

• We're underground.

• Are we?

• You don't know that?

• Yeah, maybe I know that. I don't know much – I know we're on an island.

• In the Caribbean.

• Presumably.

• How long have you been here?

• A year. I was en route to Martinique when the plane hit turbulence, I passed out, and I woke up here. Naked. We were all naked.

• `All'? The whole plane came here?

• Just eleven other guys. Maybe everyone else went on to Martinique, who knows. But twelve of us were suddenly here, all male, all young, all stripped to the skin. But then . . .

• Then . . . ?

• They . . . disappeared, one by one.

• You're scaring me, Ian.

• You should be scared, Stan. You'll find out when you meet Hamish.

• Hamish. Barry mentioned that name.

• Barry? Who's Barry?

• Our pilot. He just arrived here, too, but he seems different from you and me. Anyway, he said Hamish was his master.

• Hamish is everybody's master. In a way. He's the boss of this place. Are you from Flight 12?

• Yes. Why?

• There have been previous flights. I was on Flight 8. Rumors are that Flight 12 is the real deal, the big one. Something's going to happen, Stan, I don't know what, but I think the fact that you're here is important.

• You've been here a whole year. What's it like?

• For me, not so bad. I have my role to play. . . . For you? . . .

• You're hesitating. What?

• Your role is different.

• Different how?

• . . . You'll find out.

THE PHALLIC TOWER – SETH

Harry and Dai brought me the envelope. It was addressed to `Lee S. Herrick', in what looked like calligraphy, like a fancy invitation.

• (Harry) `Lee'?

• Seth is my middle name. I only use `Lee' on forms and such.

• (Dai) You never told anyone here your first name?

• No. Can't be anyone here. Not that I'd think that anyway.

• (Harry) Maybe the flight manifest said "Lee S. Herrick". If you bought your tickets using `Lee' –

• I did. So who'd have access to the flight manifest? The flight attendant. The pilots. If they survived.

• (Harry) The flight attendant was weird on the plane. Like he really cared where we sat.

• (Dai) Do you think he sent this note?

• He's probably dead, Dai.

• (Harry) Well, maybe if you open the note, we'll find out who sent it.

I was afraid to, though I didn't want to let it show. As Harry had noted, I was clearly being targeted personally. And when your clothes vanish while you're sleeping two nights in a row, you start to get more than a little paranoid.

And now what looked like an invitation was addressed to me, delivered inside a room from which there was no way in or out?

• (Dai) For god's sake, Seth, don't keep us in suspense. Open it!

I opened it. It read:

YOU ARE NOT DEAD.

YOU ARE NOT DREAMING.

YOU ARE ON PLANET EARTH.

THERE IS A WAY OFF THIS ISLAND.

ONLY YOU CAN MAKE IT HAPPEN.

BUT YOU CANNOT DO IT WITH CLOTHES ON.

The moment I finished reading the note, the door sprang open.

FLASHBACK: SETH (CLEVELAND) – December 6, a year ago

• Well, Abraham Derisian, now I know something more about you. You and I don't like the same movies.

• You were expecting something along the Marvel comics line?

• What's wrong with that? The world loves a good superhero.

• Are you a superhero?

• No.

• Not `Topman'?

• Well . . . maybe under the right circumstances. You don't like action movies?

• Not ones based on comic books.

• Hmmm. What if they were in French with subtitles?

• Now you're talkin'. . . . Seriously, you didn't like this movie?

• It . . . was a little slow.

• But it was so sad.

• That, too. I don't like sad movies.

• It was at least a gay movie.

• That makes it worse. I don't like sad gay movies. I like happy gay movies.

• Did you see `Bros'?

• I loved `Bros'.

• It died at the box office.

• Well, I mean who was going to go see it except gay guys?

• Other gay guys?

• Exactly. You could go there just to find someone to hook up with.

• Oh, did you do that, too?

• Okay, I complain too much about your movie choices. It really was well-done. Subtitles and all.

• I should have realized reading would overtax your brain.

• Yes, you should have accounted for my feeble-mindedness. But then we don't know each other very well. What do you want to know about me?

• You're twenty-seven and gorgeous, but still looking. Why? Are you looking for Mister Right, or for Mister Overnight?

• Wow. You don't pussyfoot around, do you?

• I don't think feet fit in my pussy.

• I'm . . . I have a complicated history.

• That's not answering my question.

• Correct, it's not. Okay, I'm looking for more than Mister Overnight. If I were looking for Mister Overnight, we wouldn't be here right now.

• We would if you just wanted to repair the last attempt at Mister Overnight. Mister Overnight doesn't have to be a one-off, it can be a six-off.

• How well I know that. . . . I think I've been trying to find Mister Right through a series of Mister Overnights, and it hasn't worked. So . . . this idea of yours of having a sexless date is probably exactly what I needed.

• I'll confess. It's what I needed, too. I mean, I just turned twenty-four, it's time I got serious. It's easy to play around, meet someone at a club, spend time in bed with them – and then what? On to another hot body for another temporary pleasure? That's been my life. When I first saw you at Studs and Stripes, that's all I was thinking about. I remember thinking, God, I hope he's not looking for commitment. Are you?

• Not on a third date.

• (smiling) Fair enough. You said you had a complicated history.

• That might be a story for a fourth date.

• Fourth date, hmm? Are you a prenatal chicken-counter?

• Have to provide you some incentive, don't I? What about you? I won't ask about your bedroom history. Just, like – are you from here or just going to grad school here?

• The latter. I grew up in a small town - Madison, Indiana. Right on the Ohio River. They have a big hydroplane race there every -

He broke off by the sudden appearance of a man who came striding toward our table, intent on talking to us, or at least me. Someone whom I did not expect to see; I was extremely annoyed that I did.

• Ian. What a . . . surprise.

• (Ian) Hi there. Sorry, just spotted you sitting over here and had to come over and say hello.

• (Did you now?) Well, . . . hello. Abe, this is my former friend, Ian O'Leahy.

• (Ian, to Abe) He's joking. We're still bosom buds. He's just pissed because I'm going to Martinique next week and he isn't. You must be Abe.

• (Abe) Must I? Damn, I wanted to be someone else. Chris Hemsworth maybe.

• I thought you WERE Chris Hemsworth. Oh, wait – Chris Hemsworth is like six-three.

• (Abe) I only missed it by eight inches. Otherwise, we're twins.

• Which explains my confusion. Ian, Seth said pointedly, what are you doing here? This is an incredible coincidence, our being in the same restaurant at the same time.

• (Ian) Well, you mentioned you might be going for Armenian food, and I thought, hmmm, Armenian food, that sounds interesting, so when I saw this place I thought I'd try it.

• On the same night you knew we had a date.

• (Ian) I forgot it was tonight.

• Sure you did. And you just happened to pick the same Armenian restaurant.

• (Ian) Coincidences happen.

• Abe, how many Armenian restaurants are there in Cleveland?

• (Abe) This is the only one I know of.

• What a coincidence, you finding the same Armenian restaurant we did.

• (Ian, pulling up a chair from a nearby table) Okay, I was curious. After all, I was the one who brought you guys together.

• (god, I want to shoot him)

• (Abe) I kinda think we did that by ourselves. At Studs and Stripes.

• (Thank you Abe. Let me repay you for that favor.) Ian was the friend who gave me dating advice before our second date. Leading me to reach conclusions so disastrous that he had to intervene to set up a `chance' meeting at your birthday party – happy birthday, which I think I never got around to saying last week – and THAT is the reason he's taking credit for bringing us together.

• (Abe) Ah. Well, thank you, Ian. You know, you could do us a big favor. Could you fetch our waiter? He's the one with the tattoo of a rose on his neck. Could you ask him to bring the check? We're ready to go.

• (Ian) Sure.

• (Abe) Nice to meet you, Ian.

Ian left and moments later was chatting away with the waiter. I turned to Abe.

• Neatly done, thanks. But are you really ready to go?

• I think we are.

• Do you want to go someplace for dessert that he won't know about and follow us to?

• No, I want us to go back to my place.

• (did I hear that correctly?) . . . Your place?

• I want to show you my etchings. I keep them in my bedroom.

• I thought you said this was a no-sex date.

• Oh, it was. But now we're going on a fourth date. It just happens to be on the same night as our no-sex third date.

• . . . You're sure?

• I'm sure.

• I thought you were just getting rid of Ian.

• No, you gave me an incentive. If we have a fourth date, you have to tell me about your complicated history.

At that moment, Ian materialized as if from thin air, not accompanied by the waiter, but in time enough to hear Abe's last sentence.

• (Ian) He'll be over shortly. (to Abe) Did he tell you I was part of his complicated history?

How much does it cost to hire a hit man?

FLASHBACK – IAN (CLEVELAND/THE ISLAND) – December 6/12, a year ago

Yeah, I followed them. I knew that Abe lived three blocks from the Armenian restaurant and I suspected they wanted to ditch me and sneak off to Abe's apartment. Seth had told me this was to be a no-sex date, but I doubted that either of them was capable of that degree of restraint.

And I was right. Sure enough, they headed off in the direction of Abe's building and, safely a half-block away, noticed them slip inside. I heard laughter as they were entering. I smiled to myself – repair mission accomplished, I thought.

Seth had looked pissed as hell when I showed up at the restaurant, and I half-wondered if he would take out that aggression in the bedroom. Despite what had happened before, I knew Abe was a natural sub and would love Seth being assertive – he just freaked over the handcuffs.

I knew from personal experience. You see, I knew Abe. It was the reason I didn't go to the birthday party. I was Seth's last boyfriend before he met Abe. And Abe was my last boyfriend before I met Seth. How's that for irony? It wasn't Jason who saw him at the slave auction – it was me. I took him there. (Abe covered THAT up well.)

Abe and I had dated from October to January, basically two years ago – a year before he met Seth. The slave auction, in December, might have been part of the reason we broke up – while I (correctly, I think) recognized that it might appeal to Abe, it didn't work out as planned.

My relationship with Seth began in March of last year. He was on the rebound from the latest of a series of boyfriends – an auto mechanic named Ysidro, who had very little in common with Seth other than sexual heat. Nevertheless, Seth was still smarting from the breakup. We were set up on a blind date by my friend Jason. Over the summer, Jason introduced me to his friend Jude, a psychologist. Jude seemed very interested in my relationship with Seth – he was a good sounding board, and helped convince me it was time to move on. Seth took it hard, and it had its effect on me, as well. For a time, I considered a relationship with Jude, but there was something about him that said, "Friend, not lover".

Cleveland in the winter is the pits; we get tons of snow though not always in December. But I often go someplace warm in December, which is usually cheaper and less crowded than going in February. And after the stress of breaking up with Seth and the additional stress (if mixed with altruistic intentions) of rescuing him with Abe, I needed a break. Which was where Jude was a big help.

Jude knew someone who worked for a travel agency and had access to obscure packages with a tremendous discount. And when he could arrange a week in Martinique, including hotel and flights, for under eight hundred dollars, who could resist?

But then I never got to Martinique, did I?

One moment over a hundred passengers on a plane experiencing turbulence. The next moment twelve guys in a room, stark naked. How that happened was beyond me – and still is.

Naturally, when the man in charge walked into the room, he was peppered with inquiries on that very topic. He just smiled and said he was a magician. Well, I can imagine making an elephant disappear, or an assistant vanishing inside a box – but the assistant and the elephant know where they went and how they got there. "I'm a magician" is not an explanation for how you go from fully clothed in mid-air to nude in a subterranean compound.

Hamish (for that's who it was) passed among us like a general reviewing his troops, squeezing the occasional scrotum, slapping the occasional buttock. Then he would say, `this one' and guards would take him away. He made several passes through our ranks, winnowing us down, removing more and more naked men from the room.

Finally, it was down to me and one other guy, a Latino ironically named Ysidro.

• (Hamish) I'll promote one of you two to lieutenant. Whoever fucks the other.

• (Ysidro) Then what? What do you mean, lieutenant? And what happens to the other guy?

• (Hamish) The same as will happen to the others who were here with you. Eventually.

That was a non-answer, but it sounded ominous, and I resolved not to lose this battle. Hamish put a bottle of lube on a table and left us alone, and Ysidro and I had a chance to talk.

• (Ysidro) Listen, I may be gay, but I don't want to fuck you. I'm not horny, and I have no need to demonstrate my masculinity.

• Then let me demonstrate mine.

He looked at me, uncomprehending, and seemed genuinely surprised when I tackled him. He yelled at me to get off. "Not on your life," I said, and, taking hold of his head, banged it against the hard floor, stunning him. His forehead was bleeding but he still resisted, so I banged it again. He was then too dizzy – probably concussed – to continue to fight. The lubricant was a good fifteen feet away, and I didn't want to lose the advantage I had, so I pushed his legs apart and shoved myself inside him as forcibly as I could.

Ysidro pleaded for me to stop, but I had position on him and when he got to be too lively, I knocked his head to the floor again and he lost consciousness altogether. This made my job easier and I pumped away at his inert ass until I shot my load.

Immediately, four men poured into the room. Two of them grabbed Ysidro' legs two took his arms. Together, they dragged his unconscious from from the room.

Soon afterwards, my captor appeared again, all smiles – the smiles of a crocodile.

• Congratulations, Ian. You just earned yourself a promotion. And you get to keep your balls.

[COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER TEN – HARRY EXPOSED]