General stared at Grandma Lucy, aimed his g*n at her head, and pulled the trigger.
Click.
Nothing happened.
General’s eyes widened.
“His g*n doesn’t work!” The shout from the back of the plane was followed by confusion. Chaos.
“Get him.”
“Grab him.”
“Careful.”
A skirmish. Loud grunting. Someone punched General in the face.
He fell.
Several more shouts, and then it was over.
“We got him!” someone yelled.
And that was it. General was bound, his g*n now pointed at his own chest. Passengers let out a collective sigh of relief. In the seat beside her, Justine heard Meredith offering a short prayer of thanks. The captain made an announcement that they’d be landing in Detroit soon.
“You think you’ve won?” General shouted with a guffaw. “You’re all going to die.”
Justine chose to d
