Chapter 1151 Mid-Atlantic Time Zone （MST）
“And you must be our hypothetical Koresh,” Heck said. “You gon’ put your hands in the air now, both of you.”
Horation was still staring over the seat at Heck when Allie hit him in the neck with the corkscrew. It was like driving it
into a tree trunk. He flinched and backhanded her with his right hand. There was a clap of blackness behind her eyes, and
when her vision cleared she was on all fours in the aisle. Horation was on his feet, stepping around her.
“Do you see what she did to me?” Horation said, and pointed to the corkscrew, still planted in the side of his neck. He had
modulated his voice, reaching for a higher register, and in that moment sounded nothing like the commanding white nationalist.
He sounded like a suburban father, someone with a middle-management job in sales, who has never been so frightened in his
life. “This bitch is crazy! She just stabbed me in the neck! I don’t even know her.”
Frank Heck kept the gun pointed at the floor and took a step toward both of them. For the first time that evening, Allie thought
he looked unsure of himself. Allie tried to tell him Horation was lying, he was dangerous, but when she spoke, all that came
out was the hoarse bark of a seal.
Passengers were looking around, making unhappy noises that were not quite sobs and not quite screams.
“Could well be, pard,” Heck said, “but I reckon you’re gon’ need to get face down on the floor anyway while we sort things
out.”
“I’m the goddamn victim here!” Horation cried. “I’ve been hurt! Jesus, I think I need a doctor. I’m bleeding everywhere!”
“Don’t,” Allie managed, her voice a strangled cough, “trust him.”
“Get on the floor and we’ll sort this out,” Heck said, and at that moment the plane lurched drunkenly, sinking like a bobber
when a fish hits the line, and Heck tottered forward.
His shins struck Allie on the floor and he stumbled into Horation. The true believer moved fast, catching Heck’s wrist and
twisting it, pointing the gun down and to one side. He drove his other hand into Heck’s throat. Heck’s eyes bulged.
“Lie on the floor,” Horation said. “So a G-man can put his boot on my neck? I don’t think so.” He reached with the left hand
and clenched Heck’s throat, began to choke him out one-handed. The cabin was filled with cries, with shouts, and Allie began
to crawl. She crawled right between Frank Heck’s feet for the stairwell.
“Where you think you’re going, bitch?” Horation asked her. “There’s nowhere to run to and no heroes left.”
Heck flailed. Horation choked him with the one hand while twisting his arm out to one side with the other, wrenching it downward
and plucking the gun out of his sweaty hand.
Heck opened his mouth, and a sound rose and rose, a high-pitched, warbling, unearthly scream, and it took Allie a moment to
realize the sound was coming from outside the plane. An instant later the scream rose to a howling thunderclap. Allie’s own
thoughts were pitched at a scream to match it: HIM IT’S HIM IT’S THE KING!