Jeremy stared out the window at the plane’s wing bathed in moonlight. They had an hour to go before landing in Boston, and he couldn’t wait to fall into his own bed. First thing tomorrow: Irish stew at Benny’s. “Oh my god, look!” said a female voice on the opposite side. Others joined in, all at various levels of alarm. Jeremy half-stood but could only see people clustering at the windows. Confused, he looked out too. Outside, a fine mist had somehow developed in the high altitude air, and it was getting thicker. In minutes, there was only an opaque gloom outside. The pilot’s voice told everyone to remain seated and buckled while flight attendants rushed around the cabin. Despite no sign of turbulence, the pilot had everyone assume crash positions as they descended. It was a good call because they didn’t even hit the runway. They shuddered to a halt somewhere on the airfield and exited on the emergency ramps. A stewardess was trying to herd the passengers when two giant crab claws came out of the mist and tore her in half. None of this made sense, but for now, Jeremy thought, be anywhere but here. He ran.