Prologue
Darkness.
A roaring wind.
Jacob Michaels’ head throbbed with pain, his lean teenage body sore and limp. All the strength had been drained from him. He opened his eyes groggily and looked around. He was sitting in a dimly lit airplane, the loud engines overpowering the other sounds in the cabin.
He tried to rub his bleary eyes, only to realize that his hands were tied behind his back. He turned his head to the left and looked out the tiny window. The moonlight reflected off a vast expanse of water. As far as he could see, there was only ocean beneath them.
Was this a dream, he wondered. It must be; it felt like one. He slowly turned to the right; his head felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. Sitting next to him was a huge, brown-skinned man dressed in sweatpants and an old San Diego Chargers t-shirt. The big man was asleep.
Jacob leaned forward and tried to stand up. The seat in front of him was too far back and blocked his momentum. He needed his hands. As he repositioned his legs he made another discovery. His feet were taped together. A wave of panic shot though him. Why were his hands and feet bound? Why was he on this plane?
He saw a flight attendant making her way down the aisle, checking the sleeping passengers. He tried to call out to her.
“Please...help,” but his voice was too weak to be heard over the engines. He began rocking his body side-to-side in his seat, hoping she would see him.
Suddenly two heavy hands grabbed his shoulders from the seat behind.
“Mika! Wake up you fool. The kid’s coming out of it,” hissed a deep voice.
The big man beside Jacob stirred to life.
“What should we do?” he asked.
“Give him another shot - a half dose.”
Jacob watched the big man pull a syringe from a black leather bag. He stuck it into a small bottle and filled the syringe half full. He leaned over towards Jacob, the needle aimed at his arm.
Jacob struggled against the powerful hands gripping him, trying to break free. It was futile; he couldn’t budge them. He felt a sharp pain in his upper arm as the needle punctured his skin. Within seconds his eyes began to fog over again and his muscles went dead. “Relax kid, in a few more hours you’ll be in your new home...American Samoa.”
American what? What was he talking about? This can’t be real, thought Jacob.
As a drug-induced tiredness overcame him, his mind drifted away from the airplane and back to the last things he could remember.
