The incident happened so quickly, it was over before Justine realized it had started.
Before she realized how much danger she was in.
“He’s got a g*n!” a passenger shrieked.
A scuffle. Someone got knocked out. And then a man stood up, waving a g*n in the air.
Justine wasn’t even sure if she had blinked. What was going on? She was supposed to feel scared. Logic told her it was the opportune time to panic, but she was too stunned to react at all.
“The people of Detroit have failed our kids,” the man began. For a second, Justine thought this was some kind of drill. A false alarm. Something staged.
Then the palpable fear that enveloped the entire cabin told her the danger was terribly real.
“What’s going on?” she whispered to the woman in the aisle seat.
“I think that’s the air marshal
