He pulled himself to a point of safety, where the wave wouldn't reach him. He wondered how it was he came to be in such a place. All he had wanted was to catch a simple plane ride, to be home with family for the holidays. Instead, here he was, trapped by the horrible wave.

Simply by virtue of the fact that it might have been, it was. The wave surged against the retaining wall, rising to the resistance, and crashing in impotence against the immoveable. Then it backed away, regrouped, and reforming, rolling across the enclosure, seeking another victim for its power.

He had been running late, and the cab dropped him in front of the entrance to the baggage check area, which he bypassed, going through security into the terminal area. He found the gate his flight would leave from, and finding himself with some time to spare, he found an empty seat and began to read. He had thought he'd brought a paper, but all he could find in his brief case was a paperback. It seemed to him that he had read the paperback before, but he couldn't quite remember.

He remembered, watching the wave roll away, how it had formed, and he was the only one that had seen it coming, scrambling out of the way just before the horrible vision gathered it's first initial power. He had been quick. He had almost missed it at first, but he caught on in time.

Reading the paperback, he heard a commotion coming from the boarding gate. He picked up his brief case and small travel case, and joined the back of the growing group of passengers straining to hear the announcement from the desk. The flight they were waiting for was canceled, due to weather. There would be a slight delay in determining everyone options, and the airline personnel would be more than happy to assist everyone in their choices. Dashing to the front of the line, he demanded to be placed on another airline, with a flight leaving as soon as possible. The young ticket clerk smiled, and set up the reservation, stamping his ticket booklet and pointing him in the direction of his new departure gate. He walked out of the milling crowd, whistling.

The airlines had all been running late, and crazy, it seemed. He entered the new terminal area, after riding a tram through what seemed like an eternally long sewer. He quickly found his new gate, and perched again, in the perpetually uncomfortable airport furniture. Soon there came another announcement. The new flight was also canceled, but a replacement flight would be available at gate number such and thus, but that there was limited seating available. Gathering his baggage, he approached the ticket counter, much easier since the crowd of people had surged away toward the new gate area. He was again going to ask for a flight transfer, but he stopped short. The man in front of him had been talking with a short, asian looking girl with short black hair. When the first man was finished and left, the girl that waited to talk with him, now, was a tall, european-looking girl with red hair.

She, smiling all the while, changed his ticket voucher, and pointed him in the right direction. He turned away and started toward the direction she had indicated, when he stopped, remembering something he wanted to ask, and turned back to the counter. The black woman with large dark eyes that smilingly waited for his question was different still from the first two women that he had seen. And no where was a door that any of them could have come from. He shook his head, turned, and walked away toward his designated gate area.

While walking, he had to notice the similarity between a surging ocean and the large area full of people moving back and forth, seeking an outlet to relieve the pressure that was building up within the terminal area.

Upon arrival, he found himself at the tail end of a ground swell of people. The crowd that had left him behind before, had beaten him to the new gate. There, again, a flight was canceled, due to mechanical problems, the crowd surged away again, looking for the elusive flight out.

This time, he stayed behind and watched the counter. Sure enough, every time a new customer approached the desk, the girl behind, although obscured for only milliseconds at time, changed to be a different person. None of the frustrated passengers ever spoke with the same girl twice, nor did any of them speak with the same girl as a group. Each time, it was different. The smile was the same, the uniform the same, the patented response energy was the same, but the person giving it was different.

He moved to the side of the terminal walkway. From here he could stay out of the way of the crowd as it milled back and forth across the wide terminal area. He could stand and watch a half a dozen different desks, as each promised undelivered help to the teeming crowd, now beginning to grow, and concentrate. Almost before his eyes, the crowd swelled to unimaginable size and focus, and began crushing the airport furniture, and interior kiosks. Then there were no more uniforms.

The wave had crashed up against the far wall, and was rushing back for another futile attempt to breach the containing walls. He figured he had been here for days, waiting for a change, but none came. The wave, long since having ceased reflecting anything of its origin, kept rebounding endlessly, seeming to grow from time to time, but never losing energy. He wished he could go home.

With his senses dulled from fatigue, it took a while before he noticed on the far side of the concourse what was a few people making their way through a boarding gate. His heart leaped. If only he could make his way to that gate without slipping into the maelstrom of de-personified humanity below.

Slowly he made his way around the edge of the caldron of shrieking noises and endless pattern shifts. Finally, he found himself at the boarding gate. A faceless uniform took his ticket and, murmuring satisfying nothings, proceeded to stamp and staple. When the uniform finished it gestured vaguely toward the exit ramp. Looking over his shoulder and noticing the human wave beginning to pick up speed in his direction, he hurried past the gate and into the dark tunnel.

Behind him, the door slammed shut, and he heard a bolt thrown home. It didn't matter to him, he was flying away from this hell. He made his way down the darkened boarding tunnel until he found the end, and entered the aircraft. The plane was as strange as the terminal. It appeared as if every seat were first class. He didn't argue, tossing his brief case into the overhead storage and collapsing into the Corinthian Leather seat.

He slept for most of the flight, but he remembered, from time to time, a uniform waking him to see if he was sleeping okay. The last time he woke, the plane had landed, and the passengers were slowly filing off. He waiting for a lull in the line and slipped into the aisle, following those ahead in exiting the plane.

Almost without waiting, the passengers all found themselves in a baggage claim area, waiting around a revolving browser of luggage. It seemed to him that he should some bags on the plane, but he couldn't remember. He decided to wait for all the baggage to be off-loaded. If he did have some luggage, he was sure he could easily recognize it.

While passing the time waiting for the luggage to arrive, he glanced out the windows, across what appeared to be a large parking lot. The windows weren't very clean, and somehow the image didn't look quite right. Somehow the cars all looked like they were moving, or something.

Before he could pin down the thought, the luggage circle began its crawl, displaying all the baggage never before claimed in airports. He slowly became mesmerized by the ceaseless parade of leather and canvas. After what seemed like hours, he found his elbow being pulled by another of the faceless uniforms.

He was ushered up some stairs, and passed through a doorway. He was outside. Well, it wasn't really outside, it was actually outside the room he had just left. It was big, bigger than anything he had ever seen. What he had taken for cars, through the faulty windows, were actually large creatures.

His eyes grew wide as he looked closer. Each creature was wearing a bib with a drawing of a human on it. The last thing he saw as he was picked up and held over the boiling pot of water were several other of the passengers he had just recently flown with. Those passengers were floating, lifeless, on the surface of the boiling liquid below him.

He felt the giant claw around his waist holding securely one moment, the next he was falling toward the steaming surface below him. Then, just before he hit the floor, the alarm clock rang.

He lay there, on the floor of the hotel room, completely disoriented for a few moments. The alarm clock continued its incessant buzzing long enough to bore through to his brain. He reached up and shut off the obnoxious noise. He pulled himself to his feet, and stumbled into the bathroom. He had evidently slept longer than he had intended, and was going to be late getting to the airport.

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