First Activation

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.

“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.