First Activation: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller Read online

  “Thanks, I’ll grab myself a gun at the next available opportunity.”

  He turned back and stared at the terminal.

  I was concerned about Bernie. He had taken a shot at us in the airport. What if he still thought that we played a part in Linda’s death? I decided to keep a close eye on him.

  “Time to take our supplies over to the plane. They’ll be starving and wanting to hear some news,” I said, getting to my feet.

  We made our way over the tarmac towards the plane, which was clearly visible still parked just off the runway. Other planes could be seen dotted around the runways in an unusual pattern, but no other people were visible. As we approached our plane, I could see more bodies around the bottom of the slide. In addition to the steward and the security guard, there were perhaps another four or five. The captain’s head appeared from the emergency exit door and he waved. I felt immense relief that people were still alive, but the news we had wasn’t great, so I resisted the urge to wave back.

  When we reached the plane, I looked up at the captain who was still standing at the open entrance.

  “There’s only three of you, what happened?” The captain frowned.

  Bernie shook his head.

  “Do you have any rope?” Jack shouted up.

  “Yes, why?”

  “Can you drag these cases up the slide? We’ve some drinks and chocolate for the passengers. Once we get this stuff up, we’ll give you a full debrief,” I shouted.

  The captain was about to reply but appeared distracted by something behind us. I turned to see thick black smoke belching into the air from the terminal. So much for remaining inconspicuous.

  He looked back down at us, and then shook his head before disappearing back into the cabin for the required rope. The suitcases were dragged up, then Jack, Bernie, and I climbed the slide and stood in the entrance, four people appeared behind the captain.

  “We had a terrible time last night. After your flare, we had a stream of visitors. The first one said he had a bus waiting for us at the front of the terminal. We told him to stay at the bottom of the slide. Another man sneaked up on him from nowhere, and stabbed him in the chest before slicing his own throat. Shortly after that, another man turned up, he said he thought he had heard voices coming from the police building and wanted us to help him investigate. When we refused, he started to get angry and threatened to set fire to the plane. He ended up being strangled with a bootlace by a large lady, who then took the knife from the other body and forced it into her own eye,” the captain said.

  “Where is everyone?” Jack said.

  “There’s only four others left on board now. Most fled at first light after the experiences of last night. That guy, Morgan, led them through the gap you created in the fence, and they headed towards the safety cordon.”

  I was looking at Bernie who didn’t seem to be hearing a word the captain said.

  “What safety cordon?” I asked.

  “The general consensus was that a terrorist attack had taken place. Morgan stirred up the rest of the passengers claiming your flare was a signal that you had reached the safety cordon. He led them all out, despite my protests, and they disappeared along the road towards the city. I wouldn’t leave, as four passengers decided to remain on board. So Lieutenant Marsden accompanied the group.”

  The captain’s words chilled me. Bernie had planted the terrorist seed, but I fired the flare that Morgan used to talk most passengers into leaving. Who knows what they were going to find or how many would survive? I knew we weren’t completely to blame for the passengers making a break for it, but I couldn’t help feeling partly responsible.

  The four passengers behind the captain were made up of an elderly couple, who couldn’t have travelled very far on foot even if they wanted to, and their adult children. They told us they were from Long Island.

  While Jack and I recounted our story, the small audience looked visibly horrified. We told them about the front of the terminal, our encounter with Maureen, finding the man in the cells, and what had just happened inside the terminal.

  They were clearly moved by the story of Linda’s death; Bernie kept quiet despite their condolences. The confession in the police building created the most astonishment. It seemed to explain what they had witnessed at the bottom of the slide and overnight.

  Once we finished our debrief, I had a few questions of my own for the captain.

  “You said you were communicating with other planes in the air, what happened to those?”

  “I was the first to land here. When I saw the deserted runways and then the scene by the gate, I advised all the other planes in the vicinity to try another airport.”

  “Have you heard from any of them since we left yesterday?”

  “Yes, a couple of planes landed at Newark and it sounded like they encountered pretty much the same thing we did.”

  The captain still seemed to be holding back.

  “Then what?” I probed.

  “Most passengers left the planes on foot and tried to find Homeland Security. They all came to the same conclusion we had.”

  If the rest of our plane had waited to hear what we managed to discover, at least we could have alerted them to the dangers they might face. I was angry with Morgan for leading them away before our return, but could understand their need to search for safety.

  “How far do you think this has spread?” I asked.

  The captain looked nervous. “Honestly?”

  “There’s no point hiding anything from us. We’ve been out there, we’ve seen what has happened. Tell us. How far do you think this has spread?” Jack replied.

  “I honestly don’t know, but I would say it goes a lot further than New York. One of the pilots who landed in Newark managed to connect on the emergency frequency with a plane trying to land at Heathrow. He said they were having similar problems.”

  Jack put his head in his hands and said what I was thinking.

  “Fuck.”

  “Do you think this is global?” the old man asked.

  “Why not,” Bernie said, finally joining in, “it could hardly be a coincidence that all of this has happened. We’re all screwed.”

  “We can’t stay here any longer,” I said. “If the flare last night attracted quite a few killers, then imagine what the tower of smoke from the terminal will do. We know there are a few hundred people from the plane wandering around the New York area; I say we make our way into the city. That way, we’ll be close to supplies and have a few places to hide if the killers come after us.”

  “Killers? Is that what they are called?” The old man from Long Island asked.

  “I don’t think they have a specific name, but I can’t think of a better description. Can you? Besides, ‘they’, are just people who happened to be on the ground when it all went wrong.”

  The four remaining passengers talked quietly between themselves for a moment.

  “We don’t want to go into the city,” the younger man said. “We’re going to take our parents home.”

  The old couple probably didn’t want to be ducking around the streets and scavenging for supplies. They probably just wanted to get back to a familiar environment. Who could blame them?

  “Can you drive?” I asked, thinking about the abandoned cars on the road to the terminal.

  “I’ll drive them to Long Island,” the captain said. “I need to get home and find my family, too.”

  As much as I feared for their safety, I was relieved that we didn’t have to bring them all along with us, smaller groups would be much more mobile and easier to manage. I had actually been hoping that Bernie would drive them to Long Island. We hadn’t had a proper conversation since Linda died, and I could feel that things were awkward between us.

  Jack was also keen to get things moving. “Let’s get out of here now. The longer we hang around discussing our options, the more likely it is that a killer will turn up.”

  “So, it’s just the three of us then?” Bernie a
sked.

  “We’ll be alright, Bernie. Zero tolerance, remember?” Jack nodded.

  The eight of us jumped down the slide and made our way to the gap in the fence. I could feel the heat from the terminal building, as we got closer.

  A shot rang out and the captain was propelled backwards, I dived for cover and pushed the other passengers down. Jack nudged me and pointed to a silver car on the other side of the fence. Behind it was a bearded man in a lumberjack shirt, holding what appeared to be a bolt-action rifle. He started to reload.

  I looked across at the captain who was breathing heavily.

  “Where have you been hit?” I asked.

  “I don’t think I am. The shot just knocked off my epaulette and the force threw me back.”

  “Pretend you’re dead.”

  “What?”

  “Pretend you’re dead, now,” I said.

  He closed his eyes and let his head loll sideways.

  I didn’t want this killer taking any more pot shots at us with his rifle. I moved over to the captain slowly, and pretended to take his pulse, expecting a shot to be fired at any moment.

  “Stay down. I am going to try something,” I whispered to the group.

  I sprang up, ran over to the fence and shouted, “You’ve fucking killed him. You’ve killed him. What are you doing?”

  The man behind the car watched my antics for a few seconds before placing the rifle muzzle in his mouth. He strained to reach the trigger with his fingertips, then gagged as he forced the barrel further down his throat. There was no hesitation once he could reach the trigger, and he fired down his throat, wobbled for two seconds with his arms outstretched, and then crumpled to the ground.

  I grabbed the fence to keep myself steady.

  “Right, everyone, let’s go,” Jack stood and waved the group along.

  We all crawled through the hole in the fence and made for the cars on the road.

  “How did you know he was going to do that?” Bernie asked, as he came alongside me.

  “I thought it might work, but I didn’t know. They seem to need confirmation that their victim is dead before they can kill themselves. I tried to give him that. Anyway, if we didn’t do something, he could have taken us all out from that range. Our pistols would have been useless.”

  Jack went over to our assailant and took the rifle and a pouch of ammunition. He opened the car door next to the body, climbed in, and started the engine.

  “This one’s a runner,” Jack said as he jumped out of the car.

  “You five take it,” Bernie said to the captain and family.

  They didn’t need to be convinced, and quickly got into the car and shut the doors. The captain rolled the driver side window down, as I approached.

  “Good luck. Hopefully, we’ll meet again,” he said.

  I couldn’t let them leave without some form of defence, and held the Sig out to him by the barrel.

  “Take this. You might need it.”

  “Thanks,” the captain nodded.

  I gave him a quick lesson on how to use the Sig through the open window, and then said my farewells. Jack and Bernie did the same.

  The car moved off, weaving through the stationary traffic away from the airport. I was glad the captain had some protection but as they disappeared into the distance, I thought it might not be enough.

  “That was generous of you, especially after we just acquired a rifle,” Jack said. “Well done for fooling that killer, by the way. Here, take the Glock.”

  “Okay guys, I have an apartment in Elmhurst. I want to collect some of Linda’s things from it. It’s not that far and I’d appreciate the company…”

  I could think of better options, but kept my face neutral as I looked to Jack who was staring off towards the burning terminal…

  “How many entrances does the apartment have? Can we be seen through the windows?” I asked.

  “Look, it’s a basement apartment in a quiet suburb with a solid front door, when I close the blinds, nobody can see in. We’ll be safe.”

  “Do you have any alcohol or smokes in your apartment?” Jack asked.

  “Why does that matter?” Bernie frowned.

  “Because we’ve all been through a lot, and I am sure we could all use some stress relief,” Jack replied.

  “You want to get drunk? This is hardly the situation –”

  “Bernie, he means rest and recuperation. If we don’t have some downtime soon, then we're going to start making stupid mistakes. We need a secure place where we can work out what the hell is going on and what to do next,” I explained.

  “Okay, I get what you mean. That could be my place. I’ve a couple of bottles of vodka and 18 Marlboro cigarettes that have been in the kitchen drawer for about a year.”

  “Sounds good. Let’s find a car and go.”

  Jack took a deep breath and gave Bernie a friendly pat on the arm.

  It took us ten minutes to find a relatively clean Ford with keys in the ignition and not too much blood plastered inside, our choices were limited. We pulled out the corpses and placed them respectfully a short distance away.

  “You’re the local here, you can drive,” I said.

  Bernie nodded and we climbed into the car. I took the back seat.

  Chapter 4 – Elmhurst, Queens

  I was under no illusion that we had escaped, but driving away from the confines of the airport, felt like a huge relief. As we headed north, Bernie told us that we were picking up the Van Wyk expressway, which led pretty close to his suburb.

  “What about Andy and Dave?” Jack said.

  “I don't want to talk about them,” I replied. “The three of us are the priority now. Once we get ourselves established somewhere safe, we can start looking for others.”

  “Well, we’re going to have to find out how far this thing has spread,” Jack said.

  From what we had seen at the airport, I thought that very few people had survived this. Even if there were people that hadn’t been affected, they would still struggle to survive in a city full of killers. The chances of Andy or Dave being alive were next to nothing. If they weren’t dead, they’d probably want to kill us anyway, so I half hoped that they’d met a swift end.

  Bernie slowly bumped and picked his way along the Van Wyck Expressway. Vehicles had been abandoned and crashed on the road as far as I could see. There seemed to be no way through the chaos, but inch by inch, we continued forward. My gut wrenched as we bumped over another obstacle that I realised must have been a dead body. Bernie nosed the Ford through a group of smashed and charred cars that were spread around a fallen tanker. As we drove clear of the tanker, Bernie slowed to a stop, and we got out scanning the road and surrounding area. On the opposite side of the expressway, a station wagon was at the head of a pile-up that completely blocked the road. The driver was hanging out of his window, with a fist-sized chunk of skull missing from the top of his head. Further behind, bodies lay all around the cars in a scene similar to the airport terminal. Sporadic noises echoed in the distance, but the immediate vicinity was quiet.

  There was now no doubt that the massacre was widespread. In the distance, several towers of smoke rose from the city. Bernie looked broken and scared. Jack was clearly exhausted. His hair was flattened down, and his shoulders were hunched. Both were smeared with blood. We looked at each other without speaking.

  “Come on, Bernie. Let’s get back to your place,” I eventually managed to say.

  We trooped back to the car. Jack tried the radio but couldn’t pick up a station.

  I sat back and stared at the light fixture in the roof above me. Twenty-four hours ago, these people were in hell. What was a reasonable human being actually capable of? The man in the cell told us what he needed to do, but it was a general demand rather than specific instructions. People had carried out this need to kill in any way possible to reach their goal of suicide.

  Our only goal was to survive. Perhaps we were beginning to change too. Jack had already shot a m
an in the head at close range, and I had tricked another into killing himself. In a few hours, would we be engaged in a similar battle to the death?

  I snapped back into the real world when Bernie suddenly jerked the car to a stop. I put my head between the two front seats. “What is it?”

  “The exit’s blocked. We’ll have to go on foot from here.”

  “How far is it?” Jack asked, staring out of the front window.

  “It’s only a five minute walk at a brisk pace.”

  I would have preferred not to be out in the open, but it was easy to imagine driving on any two-lane road would be difficult, even if we could get off the expressway. A five-minute walk didn’t seem too bad, as long as we kept switched on.

  We made our weapons ready and got out of the car; I twisted my head in all directions, looking for movement. I could hear dogs barking and alarms sounding in the distance.

  We walked close together on the sidewalk, twitching at every sound.

  Jack had the rifle tucked into his shoulder, I was holding the Glock by my side and Bernie held the flare gun out in front of him with both hands. He led the way onto a street that took us into suburbia.

  “Oh, my God,” Bernie said, pointing the flare gun towards a Golden Retriever that bounded towards us from the other side of the road.

  “Put your gun down, Bernie,” Jack said, and stepped forward to offer the dog the back of his hand to smell. The dog disregarded the outstretched hand and excitedly jumped up. “What’s your name, boy? Hey? What the hell have you seen?”

  The dog seemed in good spirits as it licked Jack’s face, then bounded around us while loudly barking. Seeing it react to us so normally made me feel safer. I have no idea why.

  Jack read the dog’s collar and stroked its back. “He’s called Bouncer.”

  Bouncer appeared to hear something in the distance only a dog could recognise and bounded off. We watched it disappear before following Bernie again.

  We crept along the road for a further two minutes until we all stopped in horror. By the entrance to a house, were two bodies. The first was a boy who must have had his head repeatedly smashed against the step as his face was barely recognisable, and the concrete was stained with blood. The second was woman, hanging by her neck from the doorframe.