Crossover Earth '98
The Grand Tour Continues Jay Shaffstall
October 24th, 1947
Marilyn Maston was strapped into one of the crew seats, facing the rest of the passengers in the DC6. She smiled at a young boy in the front row. He'd been travelling alone, and Marilyn knew how traumatic that could be for a young boy, and thrilling at the same time.
"This is Captain McMillon," a man's voice issued from the speakers. "We're beginning our final descent to the Bryce Canyon Airport, and should be arriving in a few minutes. Please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened."
The boy looked at Marilyn with wide eyes. She grinned, just as she saw with the corner of her eye. She turned her head and looked into the galley, out of sight of the passengers. There was a man standing in the galley! Hadn't he heard the Captain's warning. Marilyn unbuckled her seatbelt and moved into the galley.
"Excuse me, sir, but you must take your seat now."
The man looked at Marilyn with eyes which were full of pain and sorrow. He was an unassuming man, average height, brown hair, dressed in casual clothing, but his eyes haunted her. Then she realized that she didn't hear anything from him; no breathing, or even the simple rustle of cloth on cloth. Tentatively, she reached out to touch his arm.
Her hand went through his arm as if it didn't exist.
Marilyn yelled and stumbled back into the aisle. That's when she smelled the smoke. She looked around, and saw it drifting out of the heater vents. She stumbled to the cockpit.
"Captain, we have some smoke out here."
McMillon nodded. "I know, I think we have a fire in the heating system, and these damn downdrafts from the canyon are pulling us toward the ground. Try to keep the passengers calm. We're only about seven minutes out."
Marilyn moved back into the passenger cabin and pulled the microphone off the wall.
"Please remain seated. We have a small fire in the heating system, but the Captain assures me that we will land safely." Marilyn glanced into the galley and saw the man still standing there, shaking his head slowly. His features contorted in a scream, but no sound issued forth. Marilyn wanted to comfort him.
A sudden drop in altitude jolted the plane. Marilyn stumbled back to her seat and belted herself in again. She caught the eye of the boy in the front row and smiled to reassure him.
"This is Captain McMillon. I've just sighted the airport, and have received clearance for an emergency landing. We should be down in minutes."
The final downdraft slammed the DC6 into the ground, turning the combination of leaky fuel tanks and an exposed heating coil into a fireball that left bits of itself over a long path along the canyon floor. At the moment of impact, the Spectre was sent hurtling along his way through time along the next leg of his grand tour.