Opposition (Apparition Investigations #2)

Case #3: The Horton Grand Hotel (Part 3)

"Do you think the TSA will ever come up with ghost regulations?" Bronte whispered as we inched closer to the security checkpoint. The four living members of the team all had our shoes in our hands, with our jewelry and belts dangling loose, ready to be sent through the X-ray conveyor belt. The ghosts had floated through already and were waiting for us on the other side.

Rose, ahead of her, leaned back. "Maybe they secretly do?" she whispered in a mock suspenseful tone.

I rolled my eyes to hide my nerves. Joking aside, I knew they were just as nervous as I was. Only they weren't the ones feeling the weight of the pocket watch in their back pocket.

Not that I expected the TSA agent to really do anything about the watch. Maybe give me a puzzled look as to why a twenty-something girl carried an antique pocket watch around like a cell phone. But there weren't rules against it. Yet.

We'd decided to give me the watch. And the group had voted to allow me to use my powers to give a gentle nudge if it looked like the watch might be confiscated for some reason. Well, Rose, Bronte and myself had voted in favor. Noah had abstained by grunting then leaving the room.

In front of me, Bronte walked up to an open agent. She passed him her driver's license and boarding pass. Then he bent over and examined them.

Beside him, Rose slid through and the surly agent waved me forward. I stepped up to her podium and passed her my own driver's license and boarding pass.

"Going on vacation?" she asked with the most bored, flat voice I'd ever heard.

"Part business, part vacation," I mumbled.

Her eyes continued to roam over my driver's license. "Beaches must be nice."

God, she sounded like Roz from Monsters, Inc. "I'm more of a skiing fan myself."

She nodded slowly. So slowly that I had the time to think of Flash, the sloth from Zootopia, and wonder if this woman might be the love child between the two...and then fantasize about the wedding.

Wordlessly, she passed me my documents and then waved me toward the conveyor belt. I slid through, dunking my shoes, belt, and jewelry into one of the little baskets. Then I carefully took out the pocket watch and laid it on top.

Another agent waved me through the metal detector. I stood in the cylinder contraption, hands held over my head, and watched as the pocket watch disappeared into the mouth of the X-ray machine.

The belt stopped.

Rewound backward.

Moved an inch.

"Ma'am," the agent said insistently.

I jumped, realized I was clear to go, then scurried through. He gave me an odd look, and for a panicked moment, I thought he might stop me.

The last thing I wanted was to be patted down by a TSA agent while two ghosts watched. Because, more than likely, said ghosts wouldn't understand. And before anyone could explain to them what was happening, things would be flying.

I scurried faster, heading for the belt.

The agent behind the machine poked his head out. "That your watch?"

"Y-yes."

He nodded. "It's cool. Where'd you get it?"

I let out a shaky breath. "Yard sale. My roommate bought it for me."

"Right on." This he disappeared behind the machine again.

The conveyor belt slid my items to me. I grabbed the baskets and hurried away from the still-suspicious looking agent. In faster than I would have thought possible, I had everything back in its place and the watch nestled safely in my pocket.

"Try and tone down the frantic suspicion," Rose suggested playfully as I stepped up to her, Bronte, and Noah. "If you please."

I felt jittery. Like I'd overdosed on caffeine. "We are never flying with ghosts again."

Oliver's voice sounded behind me and I jumped. "Stella, what are those?"

I turned so that my back was to the agents. They'd moved on, no longer interested in my sketchy self, but I didn't want to tempt fate by seemingly talking to nothing. "What's what? Bronte, where is he pointing?"

Bronte looked up and then followed Oliver's direction to a vending machine plugged into the far wall. "It's a vending machine."

"Yes, but it's full of boxes of wires," he said.

"Power cords," I clarified. "They charge things. Like my laptop and cell phone."

"Oh." His frown deepened in his voice. "I thought you bought them from stores."

"Generally, but sometimes people forget theirs and this is easier than them going to a store. And it saves space for other stores, like restaurants and book stands."

"As fascinating as this must be," Noah mumbled, "don't you think we need to head to our gate?"

He took off without waiting for us.

Rose rolled her eyes. "Do you think he realizes the airport has eight gates? That we can make it there in less than five minutes—and that's if we channel our inner turtles?"

Oliver chuckled. "I like her."

Rose headed off after Noah, her rolling carry-on clicking on the tile floor behind him. Bronte moved next, glancing up at what I assumed were the ghosts as she did.

"He seems tense," Cyril said from nearby.

I shrugged, reached into my carry-on, and pulled out my earbuds. I slid them into my phone and tucked the earbuds into place. Now if handful of people waiting for flights saw me talking to thin air, they'd assume I was on the phone. "Maybe he is? After all, he's about to be in a plane with two, ahem, individuals who aren't his biggest fan."

"Does he think we plan on throwing him from the airplane in mid-flight?"

"Have you thought about it?"

"That's beside the point," he muttered.

I resisted a smile as I came up to where they'd camped out in front of the gate. A few other travelers were there, spread out in the few rows of seats nearby. Rose and Noah sat by each other, but Bronte was another seat away. I moved to sit beside her, giving Rose and Noah space.

"Do you think it's the first time they've been on a plane?" Bronte asked, leaning in closer so she could whisper.

"It is," Cyril answered.

I nodded and Bronte brightened. "It'll be exciting! I loved my first airplane ride."

"Do you think we could fly outside the plan?" Oliver wondered aloud. "And we'll be brought along by the watch's boundary?"

"Better not test it," I mumbled, thinking about the air force ripping the ghosts away from the watch, their forms dematerializing because they'd ventured too far from the watch. Not that I knew that was what happened—it was more of a worst-case scenario.

"I agree. We should stay within the confines of the plane."

"Alright," Oliver grumbled sourly. "But what's the point of being undead if we can't live a little?"

That one brought a snorting chuckle out of me, drawing the attention of a few passengers nearby. Bronte leaned forward, eyebrow arched in a question, and I repeated what Oliver had said.

She leaned back, a smile lighting her face. "You know, we should travel with ghosts more often. They're entertaining."

"Glad to be of service," Oliverchuckled.