by Tim Moon
"Only a week. Ha! Who couldn't use a week away from this place?" said Mac, starting the X-ray machine’s conveyor belt.
Gavin just smiled as he directed the passengers to the body scanner.
Chapter Two
Gavin felt a tap on his shoulder.
A woman's gravelly voice said, "Time to rotate."
His spine tingled and a chill ran down it.
Without even looking Gavin knew, it was Kelly. He nodded and stepped forward, then glanced back to make sure she took over his position, before walking away. No way was he going to get in trouble for abandoning his post.
Gavin let his mind wander and began to think about how bored he was with his job. It helped to make the rotation feel shorter.
After graduating from university, Gavin had been expecting to land a great job, or at least something in his field of study. He'd applied for everything he was qualified, or over-qualified for, but TSA was the only employer who responded to his digital resume. Even fast food places had ignored him despite his previous experience as a teenaged cook at A&W, making burgers and floats.
He sighed as he thought about his high school days when he could just walk in and meet with the hiring manager at any job. Talking with the manager, in person, had worked every time for him, be it sales, retail, or food service.
Gavin took over the next position and sat down to start checking passengers’ tickets. An incredible crowd of just two people waited for him to take care of them. One guy was standing just beyond the queue, fiddling with his bag. He didn't appear to be in a rush so Gavin didn't pay him much attention.
Once he had finished with the first two passengers, Gavin looked around then glanced back at the checkpoint. Mac was busy checking a bag.
Kelly was staring at him like a gargoyle clinging to a Gothic cathedral. Gavin slowly turned away, not wanting to look too disturbed. He didn't want to give her the satisfaction.
A man wearing a pilot's uniform walked toward him in the lane marked for the flight crew, which came straight toward him unlike the passenger lane, which snaked back and forth half a dozen times before ending at his small podium.
"Good evening," the man said.
Gavin smiled at him. "Hello."
He looked familiar and Gavin felt as if he'd met the guy outside of work, but he couldn't see the man’s I.D. badge clearly.
"Do I know you from somewhere?" Gavin asked.
The man looked at him curiously. Realization dawned on him slowly; Gavin could see it in his eyes.
"You look familiar too," the man said. "I believe we met at a holiday party. Maybe last year."
He handed over his airline badge. It said his name was Rick Connelly.
At last year's Christmas party, Gavin thought. He didn't remember much about the guy.
"Right. You work with my girlfriend, Dari," Gavin said.
The man's eyebrows shot up in surprise and he stared at Gavin for a long and rather awkward moment. "That's right," he said slowly.
"Where are you headed today? Somewhere nice, I hope."
"Um, yeah. I'm going to Honolulu."
"Well then, have a great flight, Rick," Gavin said with a smile. He handed back the I.D. badge. "Enjoy the sun."
Rick cleared his throat and nodded. "Thanks."
He clipped the badge back on to his chest pocket and stepped past Gavin, pulling a large black carry-on behind him.
Gavin leaned back in his chair and waited for more passengers to show up. They must have hit a lull between flights because it was looking empty in the lobby. Several people were waiting near the exit for arriving passengers.
Another long, slow night, he thought.
Behind him and to his left, Gavin noticed Rick walking toward the police officer stationed at the checkpoint. The airport police had a small office installed right there and at least one officer staffed the office to "Keep an eye on things." Sometimes they sat in the office, but most of the time they sat at a small podium outside the office. Most of their time at the podium was spent playing with their phones, as opposed to observing operations.
Easiest "police" job in the world, Gavin thought.
"Hi officer, I'd like to report some suspicious activity," said Rick.
Intrigued, Gavin honed in on his voice. Rick wasn't talking loudly, but Gavin could still hear him well enough. Barren walls and hard marble floor reflected sound well.
"Go ahead," the officer said with a heavy sigh. He put his phone down on the podium and looked up at Rick.
Gavin watched the two men out of the corner of his eye. He couldn't recall the officer's name, but he seemed competent enough, if a little arrogant.
"There was a man downstairs, stumbling around. He chased a couple of women out of the building and banged on the door a few times. It was...odd. Maybe he's drunk? He looked sick, but I couldn't tell because I didn't get too close to him," Rick said. "I have to get going but I figured I should let you know."
"Thank you," said the officer. "Can you give me a description of the guy? What did he look like?"
"He was almost my height. I can't recall his features very well, but he was pale with dark eyes. Oh, and he was wearing a puffy orange jacket. Hunter's orange. You really can't miss him."
"Alright, I'll take it from here. You have a good flight," the officer said, with a nod.
He flipped his notepad closed, tapped the cover with his pen and stood up. Gavin heard him mumble a coded but unintelligible message to the dispatcher.
Rick walked away, picking up a plastic bin next to the metal tables for his items so he could slide them into the X-ray machine.
It was a brief moment of intrigue, but at least it would give him something to chat about in the break room. More than mere gossip, this was a matter of awareness. Knowing ahead of time that they might have to deal with a rowdy passenger was useful.
Not such a boring night, after all, he thought.
Chapter Three
Flashing lights glinted through the windows from outside the airport.
A large white ambulance had pulled up to the curb and two people jumped out. In moments, they had extracted a gurney from the vehicle and begun to push it inside. It clattered over every bump.
An ambulance at the airport wasn't entirely unusual. Sometimes elderly passengers needed assistance or someone slipped on the marble floor or whatever. Seeing it made Gavin wonder if it had something to do with the man in the orange jacket that Rick had reported. Sick or possibly drunk, he'd said.
Patrick came up behind Gavin.
"What's going on with this?" said Gavin. He gestured toward the front of the airport where the lights continued flashing.
Patrick was a funny guy, especially for a Behavior Detection Officer. They tended to be serious, which according to the rumor was on their management's orders. Despite that, he still came to work with a seemingly endless list of perfectly prepared quips.
Patrick turned and caught Gavin's eye. Right away Gavin knew that something was wrong.
"What?" said Gavin.
"An old man died in the bathroom at the end of C concourse," said Patrick.
"What?"
"Yeah, dead. Lots of blood."
Patrick let out a breath, cleared his throat and continued, "A passenger came and told me about it and...I checked it out and reported it."
"Oh wow," said Gavin. They'd never had a serious incident before, or at least not to Gavin's knowledge. Sometimes an elderly passenger required medical attention but nothing this dramatic.
Gavin felt like Patrick was holding something back; few people used the bathrooms at the end of the concourse. Most passengers stopped at the restroom right behind the security checkpoint.
"Are you okay?" Gavin asked.
Patrick nodded slowly.
"What happened to the old man?"
Patrick didn't respond. His eyes had focused a million miles away.
"Was it a guy in an orange jacket?" asked Gavin.
Patrick's shook his head and
looked at Gavin. "You heard about him?"
Gavin nodded.
"I was here when the flight crew reported it to the cop." Gavin gestured toward the officer's podium with his thumb. "He hasn't come back yet. Is this related to that?"
"Doubt it," Patrick said. "The guy downstairs has been taken away already. Typical drunk, that’s all I heard."
As if on cue, the police officer ran up the escalator and met the two paramedics who were waiting near the exit lane to enter the concourse. The officer looked out of breath and slightly frazzled.
Gavin smirked. Normally they sat around looking bored, but now the police officer's face was flushed red, as he ran around dealing with the disturbances.
"So what are you doing?"
"I was supposed to write up a statement," said Patrick. "But apparently the officer wants to talk to me first."
"Is the passenger who found him still around?"
"Yeah, he's sitting at the gate. His flight doesn't leave for a while. The cop will talk with him too, for sure."
A passenger strolled up and stuck out his ticket and I.D. Gavin checked it all and handed the documents back.
"Luckily it's not busy, so you'll have all the time you need," said Gavin.
"I suppose so." Patrick glanced around. "I should probably go with them." He gestured lazily toward the paramedics and the police officer, as if he didn’t really want to go.
Gavin nodded and tapped his pen on the podium like a gavel.
"See ya," Patrick said as he walked away.
"You too. Keep your head on a swivel,” he said.
Gavin leaned back and glanced at his watch. Thankfully, it was almost time to rotate; his least favorite task was checking tickets.
Chapter Four
Gavin looked up from his food. Lunch break, or dinner break considering the time of night, was his favorite time at work. It was his time for relaxation, away from the noise of the checkpoint.
He sat across from his friend Emily, at a small round table in the tiny employee break room, next to the checkpoint. The door lock beeped as someone out in the hall swiped their badge to enter. Patrick walked in. His face was pale and he looked distraught.
Glancing at his watch, Gavin saw that it had been nearly forty minutes since he'd seen him last.
"You okay?" Gavin asked Patrick for the second time that evening.
Emily looked over the rims of her glasses at Patrick but kept on knitting. She was making a “woodland scarf” for her granddaughter, whatever that meant. The colors she had picked were awful, but no one had the heart to tell her that it looked like someone had vomited into a puddle of diarrhea.
Patrick muttered to himself. He shook his head as he opened the fridge to grab his food. He tucked a small insulated box under his arm, walked over and grabbed his puffy down-filled winter jacket off of the coat rack.
"Where are you going?" Gavin said. Patrick looked sick, but he wasn't the kind of employee to head home.
Patrick glanced at Gavin, looking at him like he'd only just realized that he was there. His mouth opened slowly.
The door beeped again and then swung open wide. It was Mac.
"Break time, bitches," he boomed with a huge grin on his round face. Then he noticed everyone was looking at Patrick. The door slammed shut behind him.
Patrick flinched.
Mac looked at Patrick, glanced at Gavin, then back at Patrick.
Silence.
Mac took a step forward.
"What the fuck is wrong with you, man? You sick?" Mac patted Patrick on the shoulder.
Patrick's face flushed and he glared at Mac.
"I just saw a dead guy attack the medic."
His voice was tight, barely above a whisper. Patrick's eyes glistened.
Gavin wasn't sure he'd heard it right.
"What do you mean?" Gavin said.
Patrick whirled to face Gavin. "I mean he grabbed the guy by the head and bit his face. He tore the medic's nose right off."
Emily gasped. Mac looked shocked but seemed to think that Patrick was playing a joke.
Mac started laughing. "Right. Yeah, the guy totally bit his nose off. Good one."
Patrick glared at him.
"Seriously?" Gavin said dumbly, still surprised by the news. He felt the urge to get up and go check for himself.
"Yes, seriously." Patrick seemed to grow more animated the more he talked. He scowled at the group then threw up his free hand, grunting in exasperation; he yanked the door open and stormed out, bumping Mac roughly with his shoulder.
"What's up with him?" Mac said, still laughing. He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.
"I don't think he was joking, Mac. Didn't you see his eyes?" Emily looked exasperated.
"You know how Patrick usually is," said Gavin. "He was obviously upset."
Mac shrugged. "He'll get over it."
"Dude, c'mon. Don't be a dick."
"He saw a guy get bit. Big deal." Mac waved his hand like he was shooing away a fly.
Gavin couldn't believe he was downplaying it so much.
"Some people are bothered by stuff like that," said Emily. "You could be more sensitive."
Mac shrugged again.
"Some people are weak," he said as he ducked down to look into the fridge, searching for his food.
Emily's mouth dropped open. She snorted at his complete disregard for Patrick. She picked up her knitting and left the room.
The door slammed shut behind her. Mac peeked up and then ducked back into the fridge.
"We still going to the movie tomorrow?" he said. His voice muffled by the open door.
For a moment, Gavin wondered if the assault would change any of the screening procedures, but no particular reason came to mind.
"Hey, space cadet." Mac snapped his fingers in front of Gavin's face. He sat down with a thump and began to eat something resembling pizza. It was so greasy that Gavin couldn't see how it was edible.
"What?"
"You're still up for seeing a movie right?"
"Sure. How about we hit Moose's Tooth, so you can get some real pizza. That shit looks rank." Gavin's nose crinkled in disgust.
"Not as rank as your mom."
"C'mon, man." Gavin scowled. "No mom jokes."
Mac grunted. "Right."
Gavin glanced at his watch. His dinner break was almost over. As long as no passengers stopped to question him, he would have enough time to go to the bathroom before heading back to work.
"See ya on the floor," said Gavin.
"The name of your sex tape," Mac said with a smirk.
Gavin flipped him off and walked out of the room.
Chapter Five
A bag scrolled onto the X-ray monitor in front of Gavin and an item in the bag caught his eye. He stopped the conveyor belt and inspected it closely.
His eyes blurred, so he blinked a few times to clear them. Staring at the screen for so long was tedious and tiring.
Thankfully, the item turned out to be nothing, so he cleared the bag and pressed a button on his console to restart the conveyor moving the bag out to the passenger.
A scream startled him. He jabbed the stop button and leaned around the monitor, banging his knee on the X-ray machine's control panel.
"Sonuvabitch." He rubbed his knee to ease the pain and looked up.
"Step back," yelled Kelly. She was trying to back away from a male passenger walking toward her, grasping at her arm. She must have been out in the queue, helping passengers, when the man had walked up to her.
Other passengers looked on warily, unsure what to do or unwilling to step in. Several of them shuffled closer to the checkpoint, away from Kelly and the man, shrinking back to avoid becoming involved.
Gavin turned to make sure that Riley, the supervisor was seeing this. She was.
Riley was manning the starship. She was a short Hispanic woman with long dark hair, pulled up into a regulation-approved bun. It gave her a severe look in sharp contrast to her kind personalit
y. She stood with a phone in her hand, talking rapidly. He figured she was probably reporting the incident to the manager, or calling the airport police dispatcher.
The police officer assigned to the checkpoint was nowhere in sight. Right when they needed him.
Classic, Gavin thought.
He turned back toward Kelly. She was still slowly backing away from the man.
John stood beside Gavin gaping at the scene. He wrung his blue-gloved hands nervously in front of him.
"I...um..." he stuttered.
Another man stepped toward Kelly.
"Take the X-ray," said Gavin. With a few quick strokes on the keyboard, he logged out and pushed John into the seat.
One of the two men was a skinny guy in a nice jacket, splattered with blood. He looked like a Native Alaskan. The other man had a thick brown beard and a beanie pulled low on his forehead in typical Alaskan fashion. His coveralls were dirty and one of his hands was twisted and gnarled like an old tree, as if smashed by a door a few times. The skin on it was mottled black and one finger dangled loosely at an odd angle. Bloody streaks marred his otherwise neatly trimmed beard.
"My God," John said.
Gavin looked around for Mac, but he was out of sight. Gavin took a deep breath and started forward.
Kelly yelled for the supervisor. "Help! Supervisor!"
"Stop screening," said Riley, loud enough for everyone to hear. It was a pointless command because everyone had already stopped, but it was necessary for the record. Riley had to cover her ass.
Gavin walked around the end of the X-ray machine and slid over the table that passengers would normally use to sort their items into the short gray buckets for screening. Then he jogged down the flight crew lane, to avoid weaving through the passenger queue and intercepted the two men. His security badge and I.D. swung up from where it was clipped onto his shoulder board and smacked him in the chin, as he ran.
Gavin looked at the two men and his flesh tingled. Neither man looked well. Their faces were like masks; a terrible combination of grayish pallor and eyes so dark it was as if their pupils had engulfed the rest of the eyeball like a black hole.