First Activation

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 ground.

“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.