First Activation: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller Read online

  “The captain doesn’t know shit, but we’ve got no other choice,” he replied toying with his mobile.

  “For now, yes.”

  I started to think about how we could get off the plane. If it was a terrorist attack, then why wait for them to come and capture us? We could escape through the perimeter fence and win our freedom. The alternative might involve being on my knees reading out a forced statement to a video camera before being brutally beheaded by men in balaclavas. I had no intention of waiting around for that to happen.

  “I’ve managed to connect to a network,” Jack said as he scrolled through Twitter.

  “Are there any updates about JFK?”

  “Nothing that I can see, I’ll try calling Andy and Dave, then I’ve got something to show you.”

  Jack pressed the screen of his iPhone a few times and twice held the speaker to his ear.

  “I got voicemail for both of them, but have a look at this,” he thrust the phone towards me, “a tweet I sent in Manchester about flying here, has had quite a few replies.”

  @cfieldhouse Welcome to New York, Jack! Please come and help me, I am in a wheelchair and need assistance at the following address…

  @atitlow Jack, want to meet up so I can show you some of the best sites in the state? Come to my farm…

  @saggyhr Our friend said you were coming over; please visit me at the following hospital…

  The tweets continued, but I’d seen enough. Why did all of these strangers want to meet up with Jack? I decided to update my location quickly on Facebook to JFK airport, in case Andy or Dave checked to see if we had arrived, and then switched my phone off. If we were going to spend hours on the tarmac, one of us should at least conserve our battery.

  We waited for another half an hour, debating our next moves with a few other passengers in the seats around us. Bernie and I wanted to mount an escape, and Jack was coming around to our way of thinking. We didn’t want to be sitting ducks, whatever was happening outside. Others viewed this as irresponsible behaviour, saying it would only cause more trouble and confusion for Homeland Security when liberating us. The problem was that we had no idea what they might be liberating us from. There wasn’t a soul in sight, at least not one who was alive.

  The staff on the plane handed out the remaining snacks, reminding us that we couldn’t stay here forever. There simply wasn’t enough food to go around. So it was a question of how long we would have to wait before something happened. The answer was not long.

  A male passenger a few rows ahead of us shouted, “Look, there’s a security guard walking towards us waving his arms!”

  Everyone rushed to our side of the plane and watched as the figure got closer. He had a pistol in his hand and was obviously shouting something. Of course, nobody could hear him. He put the weapon in its holster and held his arms out to his sides, smiling up at us.

  “Open the emergency exit and let’s hear what he has to say,” Bernie shouted over to the steward, who had previously stopped him from trying to access the cockpit,

  At last, we had some contact with the ground, and the man was wearing official clothing. A sense of relief was already rolling through the cabin. Further encouragement was given to the steward, who then mimed that he was going to talk to the captain and went towards the cockpit.

  The captain appeared from the cockpit again and met the steward close to the front of the cabin. They held a hushed conversation for a couple of minutes and then both returned to the emergency exit.

  The steward struggled slightly with the door, and then managed to open it, giving us our first taste of fresh air since England. The whole plane fell silent.

  “What’s the situation on the ground?” The captain called down.

  “Come down, everything is just fine,” the security guard seemed to reply, but I couldn’t hear him clearly.

  “What’s happened? Are we all safe?” The steward shouted back.

  The security guard was nodding and gesturing towards himself. I couldn’t help but wonder why he was on his own. Did he have any support? Not that it mattered, I think we were all prepared to follow his instructions, because he was the first friendly face we had encountered since landing. Who cared if he wasn’t part of a SWAT team?

  The captain whispered into the steward’s ear, who nodded, and then yelled, “Stand back. I am going to deploy the slide.”

  The security official gave a reassuring smile and stepped to one side. The slide made a hissing noise as it inflated.

  “I will help you all at the bottom. Leave all personal items stowed and remove any shoes with heels or sharp jewellery. When it is your turn, just cross your arms over your chest and jump.”

  I almost laughed. They even had instructions of how to go down an inflatable slide. The mood wasn’t quite right for laughing though, as we still didn’t have an explanation of what was really going on.

  The steward jumped down and quickly slid to the bottom. I watched through the window as the security guard drew his pistol from the holster, aimed at the side of the steward’s head from point blank range, and pulled the trigger. A red spray covered the tarmac to the side of the steward and he rolled off the slide. Screams and shouts filled the cabin as everybody scrambled to get away from the exit door.

  The security official didn’t even look up at us. He crouched down next to the steward and casually checked his pulse. Then without even hesitating, he pointed the pistol under his own chin, pulled the trigger, and collapsed to the ground with a twist.

  “Jack, what the fuck was that?”

  “You tell me. We’ve have to get off this plane, I’m not waiting around for another person like that.”

  I nodded in agreement.

  “Please, everybody get back in your seats and try to remain calm,” the captain pleaded through the loudspeaker, desperately trying to regain some sort of control

  I could appreciate this was probably procedure, but we were past listening after what we had just seen. The plane was filled with noise and confusion, as passengers frantically checked their windows and positioned themselves away from the emergency door, which was still open.

  “This is going downhill rapidly,” I said to Jack, “let’s make a break for it.”

  Bernie had been listening to our conversation. He stood, pointed dramatically in our direction and shouted, “These two are military, these two, sitting right here.”

  Jack grabbed Bernie’s shoulder and threw him down into a seat before whispering through gritted teeth, “Shut the fuck up.”

  Unfortunately, Bernie’s shouting had attracted everyone’s attention, including the captain who now approached our seats.

  “Are you an Air Marshal?” The captain said to Jack.

  “No, I’m just here for a short break,” Jack protested, his face reddening. It felt like the whole plane was focusing on our seats.

  “Captain, we need to get off this plane,” I said. “I suggest we form a small break-out team so we can scout the area. Jack and I will volunteer.”

  We both wanted to get clear of the plane, and now we had a potential opening. There was no way of knowing where the safest place to be was, but no matter what was going on, a full plane was a large juicy target.

  The captain looked dubious, “Official procedure is for everyone to stay on the plane.”

  “Do you really have an official procedure for what we have just seen?”

  My reply left the captain speechless. He opened and closed his mouth, but no words came out.

  “We’ve done site clearance in the army. We know what we’re doing. If there’s any help out there, we’ll find it,” Jack said.

  Our assertiveness had won the captain over and he gave us a resigned nod.

  “Can Linda and I come with you? I know my way around the airport, and four people are better than two if we come across any more danger,” Bernie said.

  “That doesn’t sound like a good idea, Bernie. Four of us can draw a lot more attention,” Jack replied.

>   “Come on, guys,” Bernie protested, “I set this up for you, and four will be better than two. I know the airport layout, and Linda used to work here.”

  I looked at Linda. She was younger than Bernie, and quite glamorous, with wavy brown hair and expensively labelled, smart clothing. Bernie’s suggestion made sense, having local knowledge would be a bonus for us.

  “Okay, you can come with us,” I said, “but no more passengers. Four is more than enough.”

  Bernie looked relieved and smiled.

  “Can my husband and I come with you as well? We don’t want to stay on here any longer, not after watching what just happened.” A middle-aged lady seated in front of us asked.

  Jack and I both looked at each other. Thankfully, Bernie stepped in.

  “No, sorry. We’ll go in a small group so there will be less chance of being spotted. But I promise, we will bring you whatever help we can find.”

  “Please,”she begged.

  “No. I am sorry, but it just isn’t possible.”

  The truth was that it was doubtful if anyone even knew what was possible. Nevertheless, we had decided to go for it, so it would be by our rules.

  Bernie stood up on his seat and announced our intentions to all of the passengers. He sold us as the breakout party who would find assistance and ensure that nobody was forgotten. Jack and I grabbed the small backpacks that we brought on as hand luggage, shoved in a flashlight, two bottles of water, and a disposable lighter that were provided by other passengers.

  As we finished packing the items we thought might be of use, a man in a light brown blazer walked down the aisle towards us. He stopped short and stood in the junction between the two sections of the plane.

  “Right, guys, fill me in on what’s happening.”

  “Who are you?” Jack growled.

  “I’m Morgan. We’ve had a meeting in business class, and I’m going with you.”

  “No, you’re not coming with us,” I replied. “We’ve already organised a team.”

  “We’re not letting you go out there and get us all killed. We’ve got business leaders in our section. What you need is proper strategy and strong negotiation skills. That is why it’s sensible I lead the group.”

  “Sorry, but the answer is no,” I replied. “I doubt the security official who murdered the steward, then blew his own brains out would have been swayed by a flashy Power Point presentation.”

  Morgan’s eyes narrowed and his top lip curled into a snarl.

  “Are you going to allow this?” He barked at the captain.

  “I’m sorry, but it’s their call, sir.” He then turned back to us and said, “I’ll go and see if I can find you anything useful from the cockpit.”

  “Somebody is going to get sued for this. Unbelievable, absolutely unbelievable,” Morgan shouted before storming back towards the front of the plane.

  I asked all the passengers to check through the windows for signs of movement. If we could make it to the airport fence without being stopped, go under or over it, and then head around to the short stay car park near the front of the terminal, it would be a good start.

  The plan was simple. We figured that once outside the airport itself, we’d be able to make contact with Homeland Security, who was sure to be in the vicinity. Since everything looked deserted around the airport, we assumed the area must have been sealed off.

  Bernie, Linda, Jack, and I, walked to the cockpit to brief the captain and co-pilot.

  After giving them an outline, I said, “Okay, you know what we’re doing. If we’re not back when it’s starting to get dark, then chances are we may not be coming at all. You might have to try something yourself, but either way, it’s probably best you wait until morning.”

  Although concerned with our plan, they seemed resigned to going along with it. The captain had a couple of questions.

  “I’m going to seal up all the doors so we will need a sign that it’s you, okay?”

  “I’ll turn the flashlight on three times.”

  “We’ll keep a lookout. Do you have everything you need? I think-”

  “Do we have any weapons?” Bernie interrupted. Turning to Jack, he asked, “Can you use a gun, right?”

  Jack nodded, “Yes, I can. So can Harry. When we jump down the slide, I’ll grab the pistol off the security guard. Hopefully, there will still be a few rounds in the magazine. Have we got any others?”

  Jack and I had joined the army after leaving school and served six years each, but we’d had technical trades and were not combat troops. I knew how to use firearms, but I didn’t want to raise any kind of expectation, although some training was better than no training.

  “There’s a flare gun, if that will be of any use,” the captain replied.

  “What? So we can advertise our location to the terrorists,” Bernie scoffed.

  Linda disapprovingly pinched his arm.

  This was not the time for sarcasm, and we didn’t know what was happening or how useful a flare gun could actually be.

  “Bernie, did that man look like an average terrorist? He was dressed like part of the airport staff,” I snapped.

  “He might have been undercover,” he replied, looking slightly embarrassed.

  Why would a terrorist use a uniform to fool us and then kill himself?

  “I’ll take the gun, Captain. You never know, do you? We can always let a flare off in the direction of the plane if we get into a safe area, but can’t return to you. Stay where you are if you see it,” I said.

  I was impressed with how confident I sounded. The co-pilot handed me the flare gun with six cartridges attached. It had a simple mechanism, so I didn’t require instructions.

  We couldn’t delay any longer if we wanted to make use of the natural light. The captain shook our hands and walked to the open exit in the mid-section of the plane.

  Most of the passengers avoided eye contact, although we did receive some nods of encouragement and a few people wished us luck.

  One by one, we jumped down the slide. Jack went first and picked up the pistol that was lying by the side of the security guard. I followed next and couldn’t take my eyes off the two corpses that were only a few feet away from where I came to a stop. The sight of them turned my stomach, and I lurched away to avoid touching them. Bernie and Linda followed; they looked immediately away from the corpses, once at the bottom of the slide.

  Having my feet on solid ground gave me the sense of regaining at least some control. I thought we could now face whatever was happening, instead of simply awaiting rescue or death on a stationary plane.

  Chapter 2 – The Airport

  Jack released the magazine in the pistol and visually checked it before making the weapon safe. He pulled back the cocking slide, angled the pistol right, and a round dropped out of the breach. He thumbed the loose round into the top of the magazine, and then slid it back into the pistol grip.

  “What type is it?” I asked.

  “Sig P229, it doesn’t have a safety catch,” he said, inspecting it from different angles.

  “Bernie, you’re the local, lead the way.”

  “Okay, follow me around the left hand side. We’ll check the fence over there. If we can get through, we can walk around to the road that leads to the front of the terminal and the short stay car park,” Bernie replied.

  He set off with Linda by his side, Jack and I followed, closely looking around at the terminal building and empty runways. I turned to see our stationary plane parked just off the main runway, faces visible at the windows.

  Our pace was a fast walk and I looked in every direction for signs of life or potential threats.

  I could barely see through the terminal windows, but the building appeared to be empty. The road on the other side of the fence had abandoned cars stretched as far as I could see, nothing around us was moving.

  We arrived at the fence and surveyed it for signs of weakness. Jack pulled at the bottom where it was rusty in places, and it came away from the gro
und.

  “There’s a man over there by the green car,” Linda shouted before clamping a hand over her mouth.

  We all froze. I quickly looked back towards the road. About two-hundred yards away, where the road curved around towards the front entrance of the terminal, was a green car. Slumped against the side of it was a body. Its face appeared to be covered in blood.

  Bernie was crouching down trying to help Jack with the fence.

  “There’s two of them,” he said. “You can see another pair of legs at the front.”

  “Yeah, you’re right, but they both look dead,” I said, joining Bernie.

  The car stretched across both lanes at an angle that suggested that an emergency stop had been performed. A pair of legs, wearing orange shorts and leather sandals, protruded from underneath the front of the vehicle.

  “Do you think the terrorists came along this road and killed people as they overtook them? They could be waiting for us anywhere. Shall we go back?” Bernie whispered.

  “Quiet, Bernie,” Jack whispered back. “Let’s just stay here and observe.”

  He cocked the Sig and looked at me. I nodded.

  “Why did they get out of their cars?” Bernie asked.

  “We’ll find out soon enough, so leave the guessing for now,” Jack muttered.

  Bernie's patience appeared to be similar to Jacks’, and I didn’t want either mind racing when we had more important things to think about. We needed to stay focused on getting around to the front of the terminal. I didn’t want to be unfair to Bernie, but speculating on events would only provide a distraction. If an exclusion zone had been created, it was a big one that stretched well beyond the airport. The only apparent signs of life were unrecognisable, distant, sporadic noises.

  Jack started pulling at the fence again, while I organised Bernie and Linda into an all-round defence formation for observation purposes. We all crouched around Jack, collectively covering the arcs around us, searching for signs of movement. I scanned from the terminal to the plane for around five minutes as I heard Jack ripping at the fence behind me, occasionally cursing. The man hanging off the jet bridge took up much of my attention at first, but as I continued my sweeps, I spent less time staring at his corpse.