First Activation: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller Read online

  “No, you can’t,” Bernie said, “it will only draw attention to all of us. Anyone on the lookout for a kill will immediately come here. I would.”

  It was a fair point, but I still wanted to do it.

  “I agree, Bernie, but we would be letting the passengers and crew know that all is not lost. Who will be looking for flares over the airport? If one killer sees it, then hopefully another will, and they’ll both wind up dead if they meet each other here.”

  “If you insist, but I am just going to end up saying I told you so.”

  I ignored Bernie. Our survival was paramount, but people were relying on us. I knew it was a risky strategy and hoped the captain wouldn’t let any strangers on-board – why would he after the incident when we landed? And if killers did turn up, hopefully they’d find each other.

  “On my head is it then. Jack, you open the door. I’ll run out, fire the flare in the sky over the plane, and then come back in. No hanging around.”

  I ran out of the police building and fired the flare towards the runway, hoping I wasn’t making a mistake. It shot up and must have lit up the whole area around the craft before slowly floating to the ground on the other side of the terminal.

  Jack was looking out of the door as I watched the sparks settle.

  “Get back in here, will you? It’s not a fireworks display.”

  Once I was back inside, we decided to lock the door and turn the lights off to avoid any unwanted attention from potential killers.

  We shared the snacks that we found in the cupboard and carried on our discussion by the thin light that was seeping through the blinds from the streetlights outside.

  “Imagine if the airport is just a small snapshot of the rest of the globe? If it is, then we are screwed,” Jack said.

  “It isn’t worth thinking about. We’ve all got people we love out there. Let’s keep positive. We’re alive, aren’t we?” I replied, attempting to be the voice of reason.

  “Why though? What makes us so different?” Linda cried.

  “Well, we were in the air when all of this started. Remember, the captain said he lost contact with the planes that had landed shortly after the communications went down? Those who landed were probably sucked into the violence.”

  “So only people that were on the ground have been brainwashed?”

  “I didn’t quite say that, but it stands to reason that’s why we are not affected. Maybe it was transmitted by something in the air. If that’s the case, there must have been people on the ground that were in oxygen tents, air locks, or other pressurised environments that might have survived. And think of how many thousands of people are in the air flying at any one-”

  The front door rattled violently.

  We all looked at the door, then back at each other.

  “Get down and lie under the windows,” I whispered.

  We each slid to the closest side of the room and waited.

  I heard footsteps outside that continued around the side of the building. It sounded like hands were being pressed onto the window above me. The glass shuddered with a bang. Bernie was holding Linda’s mouth closed and whispering in her ear. I could see her shaking, and there were tears rolling down her face. The footsteps went back to the front door and it shook violently again, followed by loud thuds.

  “Come out. I heard voices. I’m here to help you.”

  Bernie looked at me through the gloom, and we both shook our heads. I realised my Sig was still on the reception desk and looked over to Jack. He was pointing the Glock towards the door.

  “If you don’t come out now, I’ll burn the fucking building down.”

  This time the voice was angry.

  “Last chance mother-fuckers.”

  The footsteps went around to the side of the building again, followed by two loud bangs on the window.

  I tensed, ready to jump up and fight if necessary, but prayed that whoever it was would go away. There were three repeated bangs on the window, followed by what sounded like a rock being thrown against it. The glass must have been thick, as it held.

  A minute later, I heard footsteps fade away from the building.

  Chapter 3 – Departure

  We lay in silence for what felt like hours after the man had left, but heard nothing more.

  “I think he’s gone,” I whispered.

  “That was because of you and that fucking flare. I told you not to do that,” Bernie said.

  “He could have been bluffing about burning us out… he’s gone hasn’t he?”

  Linda suddenly jumped over to the desk and picked up the phone.

  “I’m sick of this, I’m calling 911.”

  Had she lost her mind?

  “Bernie, sort her out will you?” Jack snapped.

  “Just let her do it,” he tiredly replied.

  Linda punched in the three numbers, put the call on speakerphone and waited. The tones echoed in the silence of the room. Nobody would answer, surely…

  After four rings, somebody did pick up at the other end.

  “Err… Hello?”

  “Please come and help us. Terrible things have been happening.”

  “What is your location, please?”

  “We’re at the airport. We’re inside the-”

  Jack jumped up, lifted the receiver, and slammed it back down, cutting off the call. “Linda, are you stupid?”

  Bernie rushed over to where Jack was standing and grabbed his arm. “Don’t you dare speak to my wife like that.”

  “Linda, who answers 911 by saying, ‘Err… hello?’ And well done, Bernie, you two have just fired out a flare as well.”

  “Everyone just calm down. Let’s try and get some rest before sunrise. We’ll take turns being on watch, an hour each,” I said, as I walked over to where the three of them were standing.

  “I can’t sleep, Harry,” Linda replied.

  “Just sit down with Bernie; we need our strength for tomorrow. Jack and I will take the first few hours.”

  Bernie guided Linda into the far corner of the room and they settled down in silence.

  Despite my plan, none of us slept much before sunrise. We were all way out of our depth. I resolved to make more allowances for Bernie, and remember that the pressures we were dealing with would affect us all differently.

  At first light, we decided on a plan to rush into the terminal, grab some food from the closest outlet, and then make our way back to the plane. There wasn’t any point in thinking of anything more elaborate than that. Jack and I took the two pistols and Bernie carried the flare gun. For some reason, neither Jack nor I could convince Bernie to take a pistol from one of the corpses outside.

  We cautiously made our way out of the police building and crept in formation towards the front of the terminal. The place was designed to be welcoming and all of the usual infrastructure and advertising was still in place. A female corpse wedged the entrance door to the front of the terminal open for us with a rag stuffed into her mouth; her eyes were fixed in a wide look of terror. The gunshot wounds, stabbings, and beatings were awful to look at, but there was something horribly forced about this particular death. I couldn’t quite put my finger on why this one stood out so much, but it was one of the hardest to forget from the airport.

  Inside the terminal, the scenes of horror were no less gruesome. Whatever happened must have started around a busy lunchtime period. Bodies lay thick in all directions, the sight was almost unbearable. Strange formations of corpses had been created where passengers had lined up to check-in for their flights, only to turn on one another. Some appeared to have ripped the extendable handles off their suitcases to use as weapons; I noticed a metal rod had been plunged into an eye socket of one unfortunate victim. The improvised weapon had proven a popular choice around the check-in desks. The check-in assistant lay dead where the suitcases were supposed to be weighed, the electronic display registered her as one hundred and twenty pounds.

  A group of three people surrounded an ATM; one man l
ooked like he’d been beaten severely before slicing his own wrists with a broken shaving mirror from his suitcase. A woman lay strangled by a shoulder strap of a handbag, next to her was a large man dressed in a white linen suit; he appeared to have no visible injuries. One moment, they had been obediently waiting their turn, the next, in deadly combat.

  The route towards the security gate was blocked with corpses, but here, many of the dead had gunshot wounds. Armed officials must have acted first, and then others must have taken advantage of the weapons while the magazines still contained rounds.

  “Jack, come and look at these three,” I pointed to a group of corpses on the floor.

  “No thanks.”

  “No, just look!”

  “So what? They were all trying to kill each other.”

  I called Bernie and Linda over, “Is that the guy from Oceans Eleven?”

  ”Sure is,” Bernie breathed.

  We walked further into the madness of the terminal and shuffled slowly towards the shopping area. I glanced to my left over Linda’s shoulder and felt an electric shock of horror. The large man in the white linen suit rose silently like a ghost, and ran straight at us, his face contorted in fury, a machete raised above his head.

  “Look out,” I shouted.

  Bernie, Linda, and Jack, spun to face me, but the man was only yards away coming from behind them. Jack must have heard the approaching footsteps as he twisted around, Bernie and Linda froze. I tried to aim the Sig but couldn’t get a clear shot past the group.

  I leapt to one side, fired twice, and hit him in the shoulder and neck, it was too late though, and had little effect as his momentum carried him forward.

  The man let out a gurgled scream as he buried his machete into the top of Linda’s head, splitting it down to eye level. He then kicked her in the back to free the blade; Linda dropped to her knees, and then fell onto her face. Her legs violently twitched three times, and a pool of blood started to surround her head.

  “Linda,” Bernie shouted.

  I fired twice again into the arm and hip of the man, who sank to his knees and raised the machete with his uninjured arm. Stepping forward, I kicked the blade wielding hand, knocking the weapon free, and then kneed him in the head. Jack dived forward, forcing the man backwards and pinned him to the ground.

  Looking around, I realised that if the attacker was playing dead, then there could be others. The vast terminal building suddenly felt claustrophobic, as I scanned all the bodies to see if there were any more murderers among them.

  Bernie sank to his knees next to Linda. At first, he shook her shoulders and shouted her name, but even he could see that the chances of reviving her were non-existent. Finally, he hugged her close to his chest and started crying. Linda’s blood was all over his hands, shirt, and right cheek. I couldn’t look at the heart breaking scene, so I turned my attention back to the killer.

  “Jack, we need to sort this out quick, there could be others like him.”

  He wriggled under Jack’s hold, but was weakening, probably through blood loss as large expanding red patches soaked his linen suit.

  “Leave me alone. I’m going to kill myself anyway,” the attacker mumbled.

  “You don’t get to choose, fuck-face,” Jack spat.

  I looked across at Bernie who was quietly sobbing.

  “Bernie, do you want us to kill him for you? We can’t stay around here,” Jack said.

  Bernie looked up slowly, his devastated face changing into an expression of hatred. “Keep holding him there.”

  Seeing Bernie approach, the man tried desperately to wriggle out of our grip. Bernie walked to the machete and picked it up; he looked at the blood gleaming on the blade and wiped the tears from his eyes.

  Coming back to us, he pulled the machete over his head and brought it down straight across the attacker’s head, with a sickly crunching noise. There was no need for restraint anymore, so Jack and I rolled away quickly to avoid being covered in blood or hit by a rogue thrust from Bernie. He continued smashing the blade downwards several more times before sinking to his knees with a vacant look in his eyes. The machete dropped from his shaking hand and he started to sob.

  I stood up and placed my hand on Bernie’s shoulder to offer some comfort.

  He looked up at me with a loathing gaze. “Get the fuck away from me, you two. It’s all your fault.”

  I backed away and glanced quickly around again at all of the corpses on the ground, none were moving, but it didn’t prove a thing, after what we had just witnessed. Jack tried to put his arm around Bernie but was immediately shaken off.

  “Come on, he took us all by surprise. It could have been any one of us. I’m sorry. Is there anything we can do?” Jack asked.

  ”Yes, I want you both to fuck off,” Bernie said before looking directly at me. “If you hadn’t fired that flare and brought him here, Linda would still be alive.”

  I didn’t want to point out that it could just have easily been Linda’s call to 911 that brought the killer here, so I knelt down next to Bernie, “We don’t know that. No matter what, we can’t stay here.”

  Bernie pushed both Jack and I away and pointed the flare gun at us. “I’m staying with my wife, have you got a problem with that?”

  Jack held both of his palms towards Bernie.

  “No. No, we haven’t,” he said. “Do what you have to do. We’ll grab some supplies.”

  We both retreated to a safe distance.

  I could see the strain showing on Jack’s face.

  “Jack, there’s a newsstand over there by the information desk. Let’s empty a couple of suitcases and fill them with food and water for the passengers. It will give Bernie a few minutes with Linda and get us out of here faster.”

  “Okay, we can see what kind of state Bernie’s in after that, but I’m not hanging around all day waiting for him. There’s hundreds lying here, any one of them could be waiting for a moment of weakness.”

  It sounded callous, but Jack was right. As hard as it was, we had to get Bernie back to safety.

  We gathered supplies in a pair of suitcases on wheels and hung around the newsstand for another ten minutes, the area was free from bodies within thirty yards, so nobody would be taking us by surprise. I flicked through a newspaper from yesterday morning to see if I could find a hint of what might have caused the mayhem, while Jack maintained watch. There was nothing specific but a few stories stood out that would get a conspiracy theorist’s juices flowing. Iran had apparently sent a chimp into space. Had they secretly developed a chemical weapon, which they then released over the US? A large explosion had been reported in the Middle East, which was nothing new. A meteor shower had lit up the sky. Should we be thinking aliens? No, if this was an alien attack, where were they? I was getting hungry, so I put the paper down and decided to have a bar of chocolate.

  “Shall we go and see how he is?” Jack said, looking over at Bernie.

  I wasn’t sure how long we should give him to mourn before trying to pull him away. “Why don’t you call over? We can keep our distance that way.”

  “Bernie, are you okay? Can we come over?” Jack shouted.

  “Fuck you,” Bernie replied and pointed the flare gun directly at us.

  A bright projectile shot from the barrel and passed straight between Jack and me, slamming into the newsstand.

  “Jesus Christ, Bernie, what the fuck are you doing?” I shouted as we both scrambled behind a check-in desk.

  Within a matter of seconds, the newsstand was alight, as piles of papers and magazines caught fire. The fire alarm started to sound and seemed to bring Bernie back to his senses.

  “I’m sorry, I just didn’t… I don’t …” Bernie said, lowering the gun.

  Tears were still streaming down his face and were quickly joined by the water from the sprinkler system, which petered out almost instantly.

  With our free hands we grabbed Bernie by the arms and started pulling him towards the exit, in our other hands were the
suitcases.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I shouted.

  “No, I’m not leaving Linda. Get the fuck off me.”

  “We’ll come back, Bernie,” Jack said, angry now, “but we need to get out of here. The place is on fire and the sprinklers have stopped, if you don’t want to die as well, get moving.”

  There was no time to be nice. Bernie tried to resist, but it was little more than a gesture. He probably knew deep down that he couldn’t stay.

  Once outside, Bernie looked back into the terminal that was now starting to fill with smoke.

  “Linda,” he said with quiet emotion. I felt a knot in my stomach and my eyes started to fill.

  “Come on. Let’s get to the gap in the fence as quick as we can,” I said, grabbing Bernie’s arm again.

  We both ran after Jack who was ahead of us with the other suitcase.

  Ten yards along the path, a wiry old man sprang out from behind a car holding a golf club. Jack immediately raised the Glock and shot him in the forehead. A cloud of red mist appeared as he collapsed with a grunt.

  Yesterday, both of us would have hesitated or tried to tackle the person without killing them. But running past the body, I knew that I was prepared to do the same thing. A single person showing danger signs would require an immediate response.

  “He might have been innocent,” Bernie said.

  I was out of breath from pulling him and the suitcase, but we couldn’t stop. “Sorry, Bernie, should we have questioned him?”

  “No,” he admitted.

  Once we reached the gap in the fence, we all crawled through with the cases and sat down on the other side, panting.

  Bernie stared back at the terminal, smoke drifted from it into the clear blue morning sky. The fire alarm could still be faintly heard, ringing in the distance.

  He shifted around to face me and said in a stern voice, “Zero tolerance.”

  I knew what Bernie meant. Who could blame him?

  “Agreed, and I’m truly sorry about Linda.”

  I didn’t say this just to comfort Bernie, I was sorry.