Vanished

Watchful

I texted my brother as soon as the plane landed at Boston Logan International airport. His response was immediate, and the message made me grin. "Want me to start dinner?"

He was a decent cook, but very rarely offered to make anything, which probably meant he was starving. I was mostly the one who fed us unless it was warm enough that we could barbecue. Then he'd occasionally throw a couple of burgers or hot dogs on the grill, which I assumed would be my dinner this time, too.

I texted back, letting him know that would be great, and asked if he needed me to pick anything up on the way home.

The stewardess's voice came over the loudspeakers in the airplane, advising everyone it was time to exit. People already stood up around me, waiting impatiently to get off. I'd never understood why. It wasn't like they saved any time by standing up with their hand luggage before the doors opened. There was nowhere to go. 

My phone dinged again, signaling another text. It was my brother telling me we didn't need anything. I put the phone back in my pocket and got ready. When the rows in front of us cleared, I grabbed my hand luggage and followed the middle-aged couple next to me off the plane.

It was Friday evening, and the airport was crowded with what I presumed to be weekend visitors or business travelers arriving back home.

I walked through the terminal towards the luggage pickup area and terminal exit when I got an uneasy feeling. It had been so long since I felt that way that it took me a minute to realize what it was, that it felt like someone was watching me. And not in the kind of way Ellie had searched for me.

I quickly scanned the surrounding area but couldn't find anyone watching me or anything that looked out of place. And that was concerning because it still felt like I was being watched.

From experience, I knew the luggage carousels were off to my right. Recognizing those areas were usually crowded, I made a quick turnaround, changed direction, and walked towards a large group of people that had just gotten out of a transatlantic flight. But I cut through the crowd instead of walking around them, which got me some grumpy comments and disapproving glares, but it was worth it. The crowd kept me hidden as I backtracked back towards the departure hall.

After a quick stop at a small kiosk, to see if anyone had stopped to watch - which nobody did- I made my way over to the long-term parking and collected my small SUV.

The weather had been perfect all day, sunny and clear with little humidity, but the second I started up my car, it was like someone turned on a faucet. The weather changed in an instant, and it began to rain. Water came down like the sky was trying to beat some kind of record.

Not knowing whether I was still being watched, or if someone had actually watched me, to begin with, I eased my way out of the airport and onto the highway. As soon as I got up to speed, I immediately changed lanes into the fast lane and then went back to the slow lane again.