First Activation

Maureen regained her footing and started circling us with serious intent on her face. Jack and I kept pace with her to allow Bernie and Linda protection behind us, but she was starting to sense that we might not use the weapons.

“I only want to kill one of you, the other three can leave,” she said in a surprisingly rational tone.

“What’s wrong with you? What will it take to make you stop?” Bernie pleaded over my shoulder.

Maureen ignored Bernie’s question and carried on circling us, she appeared to be looking for a momentary lapse in concentration.

“Bernie, take the Glock for a second, will you?” I said keeping my eyes fixed on Maureen.

“Okay, but I’ll use it if she attacks again.”

He took my place alongside Jack. I ducked behind them, took the flare gun out of my backpack and pulled back the hammer.

“How’s your arm?” Linda asked, and I noticed blood running down my fingers.

“Its fine, don’t worry about it for now.”

The wound only seemed superficial, but it was painful.

“What are you going to do with the flare gun?” she asked.

“We can’t just shoot her; I don’t mind using this to scare her though.”

I held up the gun and pointed it towards Maureen’s face. My intention was to shock her into submission by shooting it close to her head. She might get some slight burns, but it would be worth it to calm her down.

I pulled the trigger and the gun made a loud popping noise as a glowing projectile slammed into the right side of Maureen’s forehead. She dropped like a stone, as the flare lay sizzling on the ground a few feet away.

“Christ, I didn’t know that was going to happen, I thought it shot a ball of fire or something,” I said.

“We don’t want to draw anyone else to us,” Bernie said and kicked the flare underneath a car.

He was probably right. Both living people we had encountered since landing had been maniacs. Whatever had gripped them must also have taken hold of everyone outside the terminal.

Jack approached Maureen and kicked the knife away from her hand, and then reached down to check for signs of life.

“She’s out cold and her head’s a mess.”

“Let’s keep quiet in case anyone heard that,” I said while motioning for us all to get down.

“What shall we do with her now? She won’t stay like this forever,” Bernie whispered.

“Harry, did you see any handcuffs in that police car when you took that Glock?” Jack asked.

“I’ll go and have another look.”

I didn’t want to go rummaging around dead bodies again, but I knew we needed to restrain the unconscious Maureen.

The others waited with Maureen while I ran in a crouch over to the police car. I opened the left door and purposefully tried to avoid looking at the faces of the two officers inside, while rifling through the driver’s belt. I found some handcuffs, extra ammunition, and a can of pepper spray, which all went into the backpack I had taken from the plane.

“Come on, she’s starting to wake up,” Jack was shouting.

I sprinted over and took out the cuffs. They were already in the loaded position, so we turned the groaning old woman over, slipped them on her wrists, and squeezed them tight. We propped her up against the car wheel.

“There’s a police building around the corner, not too far from where that mad woman appeared,” Linda said.

“What are you suggesting?” I asked.

“Well, she might have looked for people there first before coming around the corner. If it’s empty, then there’s probably a cell we can throw her in, it will also get us out of the open.”

“We’ll take it nice and slow,” I said. “Let’s make our way over to the police building. Bernie, you lead the way with Linda. Jack, you take Maureen. I’ll bring up the rear.”

Maureen was now groggily awake and certainly not acting like a sweet old lady. Jack lifted her up by her collar and we started walking in procession towards the police station. As he held her out at arm’s length beside him, she occasionally swung a kick at him, but her legs were too short to make any kind of meaningful contact.

The way ahead was completely blocked with bodies and debris, I couldn’t help but irrationally think that all the dead might just rise up at any moment and attack us. Progress was slow as we attempted to step around twisted figures; it seemed that we were all keen to avoid stepping in blood or some other bodily fluid.

“It’s a good job she’s not a two hundred and fifty pound guy,” Jack said, as he momentarily stopped to adjust his grip. Maureen was small, but she was definitely putting up a fight.

We needed to reassess our tactics when we had time. At that moment, our aim was to get out of sight in case anyone else was nearby. Dumping Maureen where she wouldn’t bother us again was priority number two.

We rounded the corner and approached the police building. It was a concrete, single story, stand-alone structure with a solid front door.

“Do you know what’s inside, Linda?” I asked.

“I think it has a few holding cells for anyone who misbehaves in the airport, but probably not much else. This is where they get thrown until local police come and pick them up.”