Flight 171 (Underlined) - Softcover

Parker, Amy Christine

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0593563034 ISBN 13: 9780593563038

Verlag: Random House Children's Books, 2022

Inhaltsangabe

In this edge-of-your-seat horror novel, a four-hour flight takes a nightmarish turn when a supernatural creature gives a group of high school students a sinister ultimatum.

Devon Marsh is haunted by secrets. Like the identity of the person who killed her twin sister, Emily, in a hit and run accident last Halloween, which Devon has vowed to uncover. Like the things Devon said to Emily just before she died.
 
But she’s determined to start fresh when she boards a four-hour flight along with her classmates for their senior class ski trip. Devon never could have guessed those secrets would surface in the most terrifying way when a supernatural creature hijacks their flight and gives the students a deadly ultimatum:
 
Choose one among them to sacrifice before the end of the flight. Or the plane will crash.
 
As the clock ticks down, the creature slowly unearths the passengers’ deepest, darkest secrets—and reveals that one of the teens on the plane is responsible for Emily’s death. The students must agree on a sacrifice, or there won’t be any survivors. But can Devon find a way to stop the creature, or will she give in to her anger and let revenge take control?
 
Underlined is a line of totally addictive romance, thriller, and horror titles coming to you fast and furious each month. Enjoy everything you want to read the way you want to read it.

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

AMY CHRISTINE PARKER is the author of Gated, Astray, and Smash & Grab. She writes full-time from her home near Tampa, Florida, where she lives with her husband, their two daughters, and one ridiculously fat cat. 

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Chapter 1


“So, class trip poll: if you had to choose between dying in a plane crash or a car accident, which would you pick?” Spencer nudges my back with his elbow as we make our way down the Jetway toward our plane. He has a Twizzler hanging out of his mouth and a wiseass grin on his beefy face.

Resist the urge to turn around and kick him in the shin, I silently tell myself. Sometimes he can be so totally clueless.

Outside the tiny Jetway window is the nose of the Sky Royal airplane we’re about to board. Rain runs in rivulets down the glass, making the plane look like it’s submerged in water. I can barely make out the blurry outlines of the pilots inside the cockpit. The night is dark and full of gathering storm clouds. No lightning yet, but the sky is ominous enough that I can’t help wondering if our takeoff will be delayed. Part of me hopes it is. I’m still not sure if it’s a good idea for me to go on this trip.

“Yeah, Devon, which would you choose? Plane or car?”

I look past Spencer to Billy, his partner in crime and fellow wrestler on the Greendale team. He reaches up to touch the ceiling of the Jetway with both hands, making sure to flex his biceps as he does. Glancing down at his midsection, he adjusts slightly so his six-pack is clearly visible through his T-shirt. Then he looks up at me, one eyebrow raised like he’s expecting me to react more to his body than to the question. “Inquiring minds want to know.”

“Don’t be such utter tools, you two.” My friend Kiara rolls her eyes and reaches around me to punch both boys’ biceps hard, first Spencer’s, then Billy’s.

“Ow!” Spencer rubs his arm.

Kiara points a finger at him. “What kind of question is that? After Emily--the hit-and-run.” Her voice drops to a whisper when she says my dead twin’s name, then goes back up to full volume. “And, considering we’re all about to board a plane, it’s bad luck to talk about crashing.”

Spencer’s smile falters. He darts a look at me, then chews on his Twizzler more vigorously until half of it disappears into his mouth.

I drop to one knee and start to pretend-tie my shoe. I let my hair form a curtain over my face so I don’t have to see Kiara and the boys give me anxious looks. I’m not gonna lose it over one stupid comment. Still, Emily’s face floats unbidden through my mind, the way she looked at me that last time, just before her accident. I didn’t know it would be the last time. If I had, I wouldn’t have done or said what I did.

My throat gets tight. It’s hard to swallow around the lump lodged there. I need my drumsticks. Badly. The old me kept them handy for moments like this, when life was weird or awkward or just plain unbearable. I’d bang out a rhythm on the nearest hard surface until whatever anxiety I was feeling left my body by way of my hands and the beat. But that was before last October. Halloween night.

I don’t play the drums anymore.

I tuck my hands inside my pockets to remind my body of this. Still, there’s the echo of a series of rhythms rolling through my head like an itch in a phantom limb.

To my right, the door to the Jetway slams open. A baggage handler wearing a safety vest slips inside, letting a blast of cool March air rush toward us. He shakes the raindrops from his hair, then grabs a pair of strollers from beside the door and ducks back outside. The sudden drop in temperature makes me shiver violently, but it’s good, bracing enough to make the tears building in my eyes dry up.

When I stand, Spencer’s eyes lock on mine and he winces. “Devon. I’m sorry. I forgot about . . . God, I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

Of course he wasn’t. Thinking isn’t one of Spencer’s strong suits. He’s the guy who fits the dumb-jock cliché perfectly--or at least he willingly feeds into it.

“Yeah, me too,” Billy says softly. He lets his arms drop and stuffs his hands into his pockets.

Kiara glares at them one last time before stepping back into line in front of me.

“Devon, seriously.” Spencer touches my hand tentatively. “I really am sorry. Hey, want a Twizzler?” He shakes the oversized candy bag at me.

“Thanks.” I take one piece so he’ll leave me alone, and nibble on the end. The flight must be crowded, because we’re moving down the Jetway at a snail’s pace.

I’m not okay, not really. I’m tired of everyone treading so lightly around me ever since Emily was hit by a car and died. Nearly five months have gone by, and people still look at me with sad eyes, watching me like I’m a land mine set to either explode or break down. It makes working through things harder. All the constant sympathetic comments are like fingernails picking at a freshly formed scab, making the wound raw all over again. It doesn’t help that the person who hit my sister hasn’t been caught--that no matter how hard I try to find them, I keep hitting dead ends.

I glance at my watch. It’s nearly midnight. Soon we’ll be airborne. I get a squirmy, uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Am I really going on the senior class ski trip without my sister?

When Mr. Lewton announced it earlier this school year, Emily and I attended the planning meeting together. Now she’s gone. And I’m going alone.

I take a deep breath and hike my backpack higher on my shoulder. Time to think about something else, anything else. I glance at the back of the line.

Jack is there.

Oh, God.

All at once my stomach is a roller coaster rocketing through a loop-de-loop.

He wasn’t supposed to come. He hasn’t been to any of the trip planning meetings. He’s been homeschooling since the end of last year--since Halloween. I haven’t even seen him around town--not since I accused him of killing my sister.

I still think he did it. I just can’t figure out how to prove it.

Kiara tugs at my arm.

“Don’t. Ignore him.” It’s part plea, part command.

Jack has his earbuds in and is tapping his phone screen. His hair--the exact shade of chestnuts--flops over his face, obscuring his eyes. He hasn’t noticed me noticing him yet. My brain automatically fills in the details of his face. Deep brown eyes with little yellow flecks, framed by thick eyebrows that curve upward when he’s curious about something or someone. The barely-there constellation of freckles that border his jawline and forehead. I spent so much of last summer and fall memorizing the angles and planes of his face, the way they set my heart beating in an entirely new rhythm--one that was all stuttering staccato beats. Until Halloween. Until Emily, when the beats changed. Got harder, vengeful. Full of anger.

I sort of want him to look up. To notice me standing here watching him. Just because the police ruled him out as a suspect doesn’t mean I’ve given up. I won’t let it go, not until I am one hundred percent certain he wasn’t driving the car that hit Emily. I hang on to the flame of anger seeing him ignites in me . . . because there is a traitor part of me, one I can’t seem to squash no matter how hard I try, who still looks at him with longing. And I hate myself for it.

“God, I wish they’d hurry up already. What is taking so long?” Kiara heaves a sigh and picks a piece of lint off her wool coat before she side-eyes me. “You all right?”

...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Random House Children's Books
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2022
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0593563034
• ISBN 13: 9780593563038
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 288
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: gpsr@libri.de; gpsr@libri.de; ; Friedensallee 273; Hamburg; 22763; Deutschland