First Activation: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller Read online

  First Activation

  By

  D.A. & M.P. Wearmouth

  Copyright © 2013 D.A & M.P. Wearmouth.

  Chapter 1 – The Plane

  At thirty-six thousand feet high and travelling six hundred miles per hour, our Friday morning flight from Manchester to New York, was making good progress over the Atlantic Ocean. I had been looking forward to this trip for months with my brother, Jack, who was snoring in the aisle seat.

  We were due into JFK at two-thirty, and I couldn’t wait to get through the airport and into New York. The cabin crew had just delivered our snack, which was some sort of fancy pizza pocket. I washed it down with a small plastic cup of lukewarm coffee, and then stretched out. We had a free seat in the middle of our row, now covered with redundant iPads, magazines, and water bottles.

  I grabbed the free magazine from inside the pouch of the reclined seat in front. It had a fantastic Statue of Liberty picture on the front cover, but inside, there was nothing to pique my interest. Who buys the plastic plane, neck pillow, or branded teddy? In New York, there would be far better things for my hard-earned cash to be spent on.

  Nature called, so I edged past Jack and made my way up the aisle towards the vacant bathroom. As I squeezed into the cubicle and locked the door, I decided on a childish plan, and smiled at myself in the mirror. I’d make Jack jump by increasing the volume on his iPod. After two solitary hours, I wanted conversation, and knew he would be eager to talk about the trip and which bar we would hit first.

  I splashed my face with water, and then opened the door to find an irritated lady eyeing me as though I had stolen her handbag. I gave her a wry grin and received the crack of a smile in return, as we awkwardly nudged past each other.

  Half way down the aisle towards our seats, I felt the plane drop and was thrown off balance into the closest headrest. A sudden jolt of violent turbulence ran through the plane, triggering a ripple of curses from my fellow passengers. The headrest belonged to a surly looking, middle-aged man with a baldhead and white moustache. I shrugged apologetically at the man who gave me a curt nod in reply.

  “Sorry, mate,” I said, then walked the short distance back to our row and slid into my seat.

  A Steward’s calm voice transmitted through the loudspeaker instructing passengers to return to their seats and buckle up or words to that effect.

  “…the fuck was that?” Jack had been jolted awake.

  “What do you think it was? I’ll give you two guesses.”

  He gave me a dismissive look and continued to rearrange himself in his seat. At least now that he was awake, we could talk about the delights that awaited us upon arrival in America.

  “So what are you looking forward to the most? A trip up to the top of the Empire State building? A cruise on the Bay to get a few decent photos of the Statue of Liberty? Times Square?”

  “What’s in Times Square?”

  “Massive electric billboards and… I’m not exactly sure… but it’s famous and we’ve both heard of it, so we’ll give it a go.”

  “Central Park. That’s where I want to go. I’ve seen it in –”

  Collective gasps and the general chatter of raised voices filled the cabin after a series of four more jolts hit the plane in rhythmic succession

  Jack’s leg began twitching up and down; I could tell he was starting to get nervous. He wasn’t a keen flyer, and any more turbulence would only add to his stress.

  “Don’t worry, it’s only natural, just relax.”

  Closing his eyes, he laughed, “Relax? There’s nothing natural about flying through the air at hundreds of miles an hour in a piece of metal.”

  Before I could reassure Jack any further, another safety announcement sounded through the cabin.

  Time seemed to pass in super slow motion, as I sat in my seat waiting to be rocked around again. Nothing happened. The seatbelt light flicked off after ten minutes and was followed by a collective exhalation and the clicking sound of seatbelts being unfastened.

  “You sure we can take these off now?” I motioned to our seatbelts with a grin. “After the double warning from the stewardess, I thought they would have made us keep them on for the rest of the trip.”

  Jack smiled and nodded as we unbuckled our belts, “They do love their health and safety, don’t they?”

  I turned to look through the cabin and saw the middle-aged man whose headrest I had clutched earlier, stand and approach our row.

  “For fucks sake,” I mouthed to Jack.

  I looked up as he got closer, hoping to brush away any confrontation before it occurred, “Sorry about grabbing your headrest, mate. If I didn’t, I might have fallen into your lap!”

  “Oh, forget about it. You seemed to need it a lot more than me. My wife asked me to come and see you, she said I was a bit grumpy when you apologised.”

  “It’s fine, no worries.”

  “What’s a couple of young guys like you doing in New York? Business or pleasure?”

  I couldn’t believe this man was actually starting a conversation with us. Who did that? Still, it was nice to be described as young. It was happening less often to us both, now that we were in our mid-thirties, although Jack would deny it.

  “Pleasure,” Jack answered. “We take a weekend every May to cut loose and enjoy ourselves. We’re planning to see the sights, have plenty of beer, and maybe do a food challenge if we can find one. Our friends, Dave and Andy, arrived yesterday, so they’ll have something lined up for us no doubt. We’ve done something like this every year since leaving the army, and it’s now a bit of an institution.”

  “If that turbulence is an indication of the weather in New York, you might not be able to see any sights. I live there, and even in the rain, you’ll love it! My wife, Linda, and I, are just returning from a vacation in England. I’m Bernie.”

  “I’m Harry, and that’s Jack. Why are you flying from Manchester?”

  “Linda loves researching her family tree, so we decided to visit the places her ancestors lived. It’s taken me to places I never thought I’d visit.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “A couple of small villages in Yorkshire. Don’t ask me to remember the names of them, but I loved the local pubs.”

  “As long as you had a good break,” I replied. “I’d love to have a drive around America, but it’s a case of finding the time to do it. Cruising on route sixty-six, stopping in motels, drinking coffee at a diner, you know, ‘The classic American road trip.’”

  “Well, our trip was great, but it’s always nice to get back home,” Bernie said.

  I nodded.

  Bernie continued to chat enthusiastically about some of the more obscure attractions of New York and Jack took some notes. Over Bernie’s shoulder, I could see America on the flight screen at the front of the cabin. We were less than an hour away.

  “This is your Captain speaking. Unfortunately, we have had communication problems with JFK, so we haven’t been able to confirm a landing slot. We will be entering a holding pattern shortly and as soon as we get confirmation, I will advise you on an estimated arrival time.”

  “What does he mean communication problems? Don’t they have more than one way of speaking to the airport? We’ve been delayed, but he’s just not telling us. I’m going to speak to that god damn pilot,” Bernie said.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Bernie, Air Traffic Control are probably asleep,” Jack shouted along the aisle, as Bernie headed towards the cockpit door.

  Figuring this could provide some entertainment, I hopped over Jack into the aisle. He threw his head back and stared a
t the air conditioning in silence.

  As Bernie approached the front of the plane, a male steward stood in his way, “Can I help you, sir?”

  “I want to talk to the pilot,” Bernie replied as he tried to edge past.

  “You can’t do that, sir.”

  The steward put his arm up and calmly blocked Bernie’s access. Bernie wasn’t giving up, he pushed forward, trying to force past the steward’s arm.

  “Sir, please go back to your seat.”

  The steward was now actively attempting to push Bernie back down the aisle.

  I could see this situation escalating, and all of us being arrested at JFK for causing a disturbance.

  “Come on. We’ll find out later,” I said, grabbing Bernie by the shoulder and pulling him back.

  Bernie turned around, but grumbled as he moved back to his seat about us being treated like cattle.

  “Don’t you mean mushrooms?” I said.

  “Mushrooms?”

  “We’re kept in the dark and fed on shit.”

  Bernie burst out laughing and forcefully slapped my back.

  “British humour, I love it.”

  I returned to my seat and found Jack smiling up at me, “Are we going to spend our time in New York in an airport cell? I bet you managed to annoy at least one person.”

  “You’re wrong, actually. I stopped Bernie from getting into trouble. You know how bad behaviour in the sky is viewed nowadays.”

  I said the last part with a knowing wink. On our trip last year, Jack had been arrested when we landed in Majorca, for being drunk and taking photographs of random passengers.

  “He sounds worse than me, Harry. That’s your good deed for the day then,” Jack laughed.

  I sat down and we both looked out of the window. I could now see land in the distance and the flight screen indicated thirty minutes until arrival.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. We are still experiencing communication problems with JFK, so we will remain in a holding pattern until contact is re-established.”

  The last sentence drew a few nervous laughs. Hopefully, we wouldn’t have long to wait, although it was encouraging that the plane was circling over our destination.

  My thoughts drifted to a conversation I had with Andy and Dave the previous day. They had chosen the earlier flight because it was cheaper, and I took great pleasure in teasing them about being thrifty. With the extra hotel cost and expenses, there would be no difference. However, as the delay started to eat into our trip, I imagined the smug grins plastered over their faces at the hotel if they read about our delay.

  Jack was shuffling uncomfortably in his seat.

  “We’ll be laughing at this tonight, you just wait and see,” I said.

  He nodded and started to read the in-flight magazine. I stared out of the window for the next ten minutes, looking at the view below us. Andy and Dave were probably already in a bar, while we were wasting time in the air because of a technical fuck up.

  “I wonder if we end up using the full two hours of fuel,” Jack said, as I viewed the still landscape below us.

  To distract Jack and chew up a bit of time, I suggested we go through our favourite top ten movies.

  “Cool,” said Jack, “I’ll start. Predator.”

  “No way! That’s just Arnie running around in the jungle.”

  “What about Gladiator, that’s…”

  “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. We are now starting our final descent and will be arriving into New York at three-thirty local time.”

  We both grinned at the news.

  Ironic cheers rang around the cabin. We must have been allocated a slot. Order had been restored and I could almost taste the first beer of the day. The cabin crew came through the plane to check that we had our seatbelts on and tray tables up. Then, they strapped themselves in for landing. We eventually touched down on the runway and were pulled back into our seats, as we slowed down then turned towards the terminal.

  There was no landing announcement, but I didn’t care. We had arrived and that was all that mattered.

  “Thank God that’s over, and we’re finally here. I know the delay wasn’t too long, but that flight felt like an eternity,” Jack said.

  “Let’s just get through customs and check-in at the hotel. I’ll call Dave and Andy while we wait for our bags and tell them we expect a drink waiting for us in the hotel bar.”

  I changed my watch and had brushed off the previous events. An hour delay was nothing and our plane was luxurious, compared to travelling in a Hercules or Chinook.

  While moving towards the terminal, the plane juddered to an abrupt halt. I looked through my window and the airport appeared quiet. I couldn’t see any small airport vehicles buzzing around, ground crew directing us in, or any signs of movement from the terminal. Something was not right, and I wasn’t the only person to notice.

  “Oh my god!” A lady screamed from two rows behind us.

  Other shouts began to fill the cabin.

  “What the…?”

  “Oh no. Oh Jesus Christ, look over there, at the gate on the corner!”

  “Where?”

  “The jet bridge.”

  I squeezed against the window to get the right angle to see the gate.

  Hanging by his neck from the open entrance of the jet bridge, was what seemed to be a member of the ground crew. There was little doubt that he was dead, his arms dangled limply by his sides and he was slowly spinning around in the breeze.

  I elbowed Jack, “Swap seats and have a look at this.”

  We switched positions and I noticed Bernie looking over from his seat.

  “What did you see out there?”

  “There’s a man hanging from the gate by his neck! I couldn’t see anyone else.”

  “There’s somebody lying below the gate. Are they dead as well? I think I can make out a pool of blood around the body,” Jack said. “Look at the luggage truck next to the gate. There’s a man hanging out of the passenger seat with blood all over his face and someone else slumped over the wheel!”

  An anxious steward’s announcement came over the loudspeaker telling all passengers to remain seated, moments later; Bernie arrived at our row and attempted to look over Jack’s shoulder.

  “Let me see,” he said, waving for Jack to lean forward.

  “Be my guest,” he replied and shifted to one side.

  While most of the people around us remained gob-smacked and could only splutter out short sentences of astonishment, Bernie had already developed his own theory, “I think this looks like a terrorist attack. They’ve obviously taken over the whole of JFK airport and killed some of the ground crew.”

  The steward’s announcement was repeated, but there was no calming the passengers who had seen the gruesome scene outside the windows.

  “They would need a whole terrorist army to get through all of the security at the airport. If that’s what happened, where are they now?” Jack replied.

  “The terrorists will be holed up inside with hostages. Homeland Security will be outside now, figuring out how to manage the situation.”

  “I can’t see any vehicles around with flashing lights, no helicopters in the air, nothing,” I said.

  “Right, that’s it. I am going to see the pilot and no steward is stopping me this time.”

  Bernie stormed towards the cockpit, barging past other passengers who had stood to get a view from the window. I decided to follow. He wasn’t the first to have the idea and a small crowd, mostly from business class, had gathered at the front of the plane demanding answers.

  The cockpit door slowly opened and the captain appeared, quieting the crowd. I stood on a seat close to the front of the cabin so I could get a good view of the captain. He was a tall, older looking man with grey hair, and looked visibly shaken.

  “I can only tell you what I know, but it’s not much more than you’ve already seen. We’re going against procedure by even landing here, b
ut I had to make a decision before we ran out of fuel,” he said.

  A chorus of questions all came at once and the captain raised his arms.

  “Please, let me tell you what I know. I have no other information beyond that.” This brought silence, “Just after the turbulence, we appeared to lose all communication with the ground. We have heard nothing since. We also lost communication with the planes that landed shortly afterwards, although contact is still possible with other planes in the air. All of this is understandable if the traffic control systems and communications are down. The procedure in these situations is to sit tight and try not to panic.”

  “Are the planes being diverted to other airports? In that case, why did we land here?” A passenger shouted.

  “No other airports are responding. I honestly don’t know what’s happening.”

  Passengers continued to fire questions.

  “Why did you stop?”

  “How are we supposed to get off?”

  “What do we do now?”

  “I have already said, I’ve only seen what you’ve seen. I am not going to pull up to a gate with a body hanging off it. Without ground crew, any docking procedure would be risky anyway. We’ll wait for one hour. If no help comes, then we can use the emergency slide to disembark.”

  “Then what?” Bernie shouted.

  “Emergency services on the ground are not responding. We wait for contact before making any decisions. I’ll keep trying all channels of communication and update you all when I have further information.”

  The passengers erupted with shouts and arguments. The captain threw his hands in the air and then disappeared back into the cockpit. Feeling a mix of frustration and disappointment, I hopped back into the aisle and slowly followed the procession of passengers back to my seat, a group stayed to labour the conversation at the front of the cabin. Bernie could be heard shouting about terrorism. Perhaps he was right, after all. The amount of coordination for such an attack was mind-blowing, but what else could it be?

  Jack was looking at me as I approached our seats. I shook my head, “The communication problem seems to be widespread. There’s no sign of help at the moment, so the suggestion is that we wait.”