by Tim Moon
"I'm fine," said Gavin.
Following the shooting, most of the retail shops had started closing up. The exit gate had been locked so he had no idea where the staff thought they were going.
"You think we'll find any of the infected?" Mac asked, using a weird tone to emphasize "the infected."
"Who knows," said Gavin. "I wish they'd told us more. Like what the hell we're supposed to be looking for?"
There were maybe only a few hundred passengers at this time of night and most of the ones remaining would leave from the B concourse. Riley must have sent Gavin and Mac down C concourse because it was the biggest space to cover and she knew the other two guys were as slow as dead slugs.
A guy stepped out from inside the small snack/newsstand where he worked. "You guys know what's going on? I've been hearing crazy rumors."
"What kind of rumors, sir?" said Mac in an official sounding tone.
"Like people are getting attacked and the police shot a guy. I mean, I heard a noise, but shooting a guy? In the airport?" said the man. He threw his hands up. "It's hard to believe."
"Better believe it. This officer here," Mac said, gesturing to Gavin. "He helped another officer detain two attackers, before a police officer shot the third man."
"No shit?" The man's eyes were wider than headlights. "I mean - seriously?"
"Yeah, the cop blasted him like...bam, bam..."
"Okay, Mac that's enough."
"What? I'm disseminating vital information to the public."
"Let's go." Gavin looked at the man. "It's true but don't worry. We have everything under control."
"What should I do?"
"I'd close up and keep an eye out for anyone suspicious. Stick with other people, you know, safety in numbers," Gavin said.
Before they walked away, Gavin turned to the man. "Did you happen to see a police officer and some EMS guys head down here?"
"Yeah, sure did," he said. "It was a while ago; they went down there."
"Thanks for your cooperation."
"Sure thing, guys. Stay safe." He walked a few steps back to his cash register and started typing.
When they were out of earshot, Mac punched him in the shoulder.
"Dude, you totally cut off my story."
"You were just trying to rile him up."
"I am a speaker of the truth," he said. "They should hire me in D.C. so I can drop truth bombs all day."
Gavin laughed and it sounded weird, even to his ears, but the tension release was glorious.
Everything still looked relatively normal. No attackers, no victims, no endangered babies, not even so much as a piece of trash on the floor.
The radio clicked. "Patrol One, Patrol Two, this is Checkpoint. Be advised that Headquarters has notified us of a national emergency." It was Riley's voice, but she sounded dull and shaky. "This is not a drill. We have a national emergency. If you see anyone exhibiting the following signs, you are to report them immediately. Do not approach. The signs are: a stumbling drunken-like gait, bloody injuries, dark eyes lacking a defined color and white cornea and moaning or groaning. I say again this is not a drill. Please respond to confirm you have received and understood this message."
"Checkpoint, this is Patrol Two, we copy, over," Gavin said.
"Patrol Two, I gotcha. Over," said Riley. "Patrol One, acknowledge."
Mac looked at him. "Whoa, dude. It's the real deal, huh?"
Gavin nodded.
"Patrol One do you copy?" repeated Riley.
They kept walking. Gavin felt a little bit nervous but still confident that they'd be okay. Anchorage International Airport had good security and armed police officers; the security gates were closed and there weren't too many civilians, so the chance of having to deal with irate passengers was minimal. The passengers would be able to see that it was a serious situation.
Mac and Gavin had passed most of the shops, when the people who had been sitting relatively quietly at gate, until now, began to get up and move. They heard shouting and a few screams but it was muffled.
Gavin ran down the concourse towards the commotion with Mac right beside him. They had to see what was happening so they could report it to Riley.
Several people rushed out of a nearby bathroom. One was bleeding from the arm and the others just looked panicked.
"He bit me! Call the police! That crazy bastard bit me," screamed a man, clutching his arm to his chest. Blood ran to the floor from his elbow leaving a trail behind him. He turned and pointed at someone still inside the bathroom. "I'm gonna sue the shit out of you, man."
"Checkpoint, this is Patrol Two, we have an incident. We have one passenger injured; he says a man bit him," Gavin said into the radio. "No sign of the attacker, over."
No immediate response.
"Do you copy checkpoint?" he said. He didn't recall hearing Patrol One check in either.
"Shit," he muttered to himself.
Mac waved the man over and told him to go back to the checkpoint. Another passenger was already helping him, so Mac pointed them in the right direction and stayed with Gavin. At least, that's what Gavin thought at first.
Instead, Mac went over to the bathroom to investigate.
"Hey idiot," said Gavin. But he was too slow.
As Mac neared the bathroom door, he glanced back at Gavin and smiled.
A man stepped out of the bathroom just behind Mac.
"Watch out," Gavin shouted.
Mac whipped his head around and saw the man, his face was torn up and bloodied. Mac immediately backpedaled.
The man grabbed for him and missed. Gavin realized that it was one of the paramedics that he'd seen earlier. But hadn't they left?
"Patrol Two, return to the checkpoint immediately. Do not approach the infected. They are extremely dangerous. Do you copy?"
"Checkpoint, we copy loud and clear, over."
Mac slipped in the blood left by the injured man and fell to his knees. Gavin jammed the radio into his pocket and ran over to help pull him up.
Passengers behind them were scrambling away from the gate and running toward the checkpoint. There was a horrible domino effect starting. Once the people from that gate started running everyone else did too. Panic spread, faster than lightning.
People rushed by them, some not even knowing what they were running from, but running just because everyone else was. Screams of panic filled the air and people shouted for other passengers to get out of their way. They pushed and shoved in their panicked confusion.
A young woman accidentally bumped into the infected paramedic. He immediately reached up and his sticky fingers caught in her hair. She screamed in surprise and whirled to face the man. Her nails clawed his face but he didn’t let go.
Two more infected emerged from the bathroom; an old man - the one Patrick reported? – and a young boy, whose entrails had spilled out of his gut and dangled down his front. They wiggled, dripping fluid and swinging to and fro, as he took shuffling steps forward into the crowd.
Suddenly the boy lunged at a man's legs, like a wild animal and succeeded in tripping him up. The boy managed to grasp the leg and sank his teeth into the exposed Achilles tendon. The man screamed and kicked, but the kid had latched onto his leg like his life depended on holding on.
"We've gotta run," Mac shouted, pulling on Gavin's arm. "Run."
He was right. But where?
Then Gavin said, "This way."
He pushed his way through to the other side of the concourse next to the gates. He pulled Mac down behind a row of seats. "We need somewhere to hide, behind a locked door. Everyone is running to the checkpoint, but it's locked down. It'll be a deathtrap."
"Exactly," Mac said. "I don't want to be in with the cattle when it's the butcher's turn with them."
Gavin quickly ran through the options in his head. Several doors were close at hand. Door one led to a stairwell that only went down to a baggage carousel that was exposed to the outside weather. Neither of them wore coats, so it was t
oo cold to go that way. Door two opened into to a medium-sized supply closet that building maintenance used. That wasn't a great choice either because it was on the other side of the concourse, where they'd just come from, it was too small and people might try to push in with them. They'd never get the door closed. That left door three, about fifty yards away, near the end of the concourse. It led to a large stairwell that connected three different floors and gave them some options, if the situation changed.
"Follow me," said Gavin.
"Where're we going?" Mac stood and ran beside him. Then he caught on. "The back stairs. Good call."
They made it to the door. Gavin pulled at the I.D. badge hanging from his shoulder board and slapped it against the card reader. It clicked and unlocked.
Gavin yanked it open. "Hurry up," he yelled at Mac.
Mac ran inside right away.
"Wait, let us in," a man's strained voice called. He was breathing heavily. With an arm slung over his shoulder, he was half-dragging a blood-soaked man beside him. They were, at least, forty yards away.
"Wait," a woman screeched at them. She popped out from behind a desk. "Don't leave me."
Gavin hesitated; his heart was racing and adrenaline was coursing through him, making his hands shake. Then he went against his heart, he slipped inside and shoved the door closed so that no one could follow them. It clicked safely shut.
Not even three seconds had passed before the people outside reached the door and began banging on it desperately and cursing them at the same time.
Gavin backed away and sat on the stairs. Tears blurred his eyes.
Chapter Nine
More and more people piled up against the door. They pounded and beat against it until it wobbled so much that Gavin feared it would burst open. He and Mac crouched on the landing, half a level above the door, just in case the people succeeded in breaking it down. It'd give Gavin and Mac a second or so head start to escape.
Meanwhile, outside the door, the frenzied crowd had simply drawn the attention of the infected to the noise.
Gavin and Mac had to listen as people were torn apart and savaged by the infected. Horrible, nightmarish sounds came from outside. Their screams echoed off the concrete. A rivulet of blood seeped in underneath the edge of the door, despite the heavy-duty weather stripping along the bottom.
Then one by one the voices died off and it went quiet.
They waited and listened. Nothing.
Gavin looked at his watch. His hands were shaking. No noise for the last five minutes.
"Oh God, I feel sick," he said. He set the radio on the stairs, sat down, and leaned against the wall. "I should have let them in."
"We had to leave them out there. If we had opened the doors, it would've been game over." Mac patted him on the shoulder. "As hard as it is to hear now, you did the right thing."
Gavin ignored him. "Should we try the radio again?"
"What's the point, man? You already tried it, like a hundred times. If anyone is still alive they're either out of range because they were smart and got out of the airport or they don't have a radio," said Mac. "Or worst ca-"
"I'm sure they got out."
Mac stood up and walked over to the window. "It's still snowing outside. I don't see anything moving on the tarmac. That's a good sign, right?"
"Hmm. Sure." Gavin picked up the radio and pressed the call button. "Checkpoint, Patrol One, this is Patrol Two. Can anybody hear me?"
Nothing.
Gavin stood and walked over to the doors, careful not to step in the blood inching its way toward the steps. He leaned his head against the door and listened hard, still no sound.
"Should we take a look?" he asked.
"No!" Mac shouted. "Don't even move that door a little. In fact, stop touching it. We don't know what's on the other side and I don't want those fuckers in here."
"We can't stay in here forever."
"True but we don't need to rush out there like idiots."
Gavin sighed. Mac was probably right. Gavin walked back, took his place at the top of the first set of stairs and sat down again, leaning against the wall.
After ten minutes had passed, they both began to feel eager to find out what had happened. Sitting there was boring and it was much colder than the rest of the building.
"If we go upstairs, how far across the airport can we get before we have to come down?" Gavin said.
"Never been on the third floor," Mac said. He looked like he was curious to find out. "I think we should check it out."
"Okay. It's better than sitting here."
"We need a weapon or something," said Mac.
"When I see a weapon, I'll tell you." Gavin wasn't so sure he was ready to start offing people, he'd fight them off for sure but there was no way he was about to die at work. Then he groaned. "Shit."
"What?"
"Dari might still be down there, man. Shit, shit! I'm not sure if her flight left before the attack or not," said Gavin.
"Hey don't sweat it, I'm sure she's fine," said Mac. "We can always check from upstairs."
"Okay, yeah. You're probably right." Gavin cleared his throat. "She's probably sitting on the plane already. Hopefully, they’ve locked it up."
"C'mon then, no time to waste."
Gavin stood and clipped the radio onto his belt. He turned the volume down, so it wouldn't give them away. Then he followed Mac upstairs.
The door at the top of the stairwell was also a secure door and, like the one downstairs, it lacked a window. Mac swiped his badge and opened it slowly. He peeked through the crack for a moment and then pulled it halfway open and stepped out waving Gavin through behind him.
Gavin came through the door and closed it behind him, before the warning alarm had a chance to sound. If the doors stayed open too long the blaring alarm would attract all of the attackers to them.
The hallway was open to the concourse below, on the left side. Gavin peeked over the edge but didn't see anything. On the right-hand side were offices and meeting rooms. He couldn't imagine who actually used them since the rooms’ numbered signs lacked names and logos.
"Let's go," said Mac. He set off at a slow jog.
The hall curved slowly to the right. Gavin caught up behind him and fell into the same pace.
Suddenly Mac stopped. Gavin almost ran into him. Strange noises were coming from up ahead. Gavin couldn't tell if it was on this floor or below them in the concourse.
Mac peered over the edge. "Down there," he whispered.
Gavin looked over.
A man, or what remained of a man, was pulling himself along the floor. Both of his legs were gone. Trails of dark blood marked the path behind him like a slug’s trail. His body squeaked against the floor every time he pulled himself forward.
"Go," said Gavin.
Mac nodded.
They continued jogging to the end of the hall. Gavin used his security badge to get through the next door, which led to another staircase, very similar to the one they'd left behind. Gavin led the way down the stairs while Mac eased the door closed behind them. They both instinctively knew that their survival depended on stealth.
Of course, it didn't hurt that they had experience of working together, tactically. The two of them had played competitive paintball together for years and this was similar to clearing a structure, looking for the enemy.
Gavin waited for Mac before he badged in at the next door. Mac nodded. Badge to the card reader, click of the lock and Mac slowly eased the door open, checking the concourse for any infected. Nothing was moving, which was strange. Gavin had expected to see something.
Mac shrugged at Gavin, looking just as surprised. Then he stepped out.
Gavin followed and the two of them moved to the gate side of the concourse which gave them something to hide behind if needed.
"Where did all those fuckers go?" Mac said softly.
Gavin shrugged. No employees stood at any of the booths by the gates and no one was standing near the shops. T
hey'd all managed to close up. To the left, down C concourse, Gavin could see bodies strewn about on the floor. The crawler they'd heard earlier was nowhere in sight.
"Let's go," said Gavin.
"Okay. Lead the way."
Gavin started. Then Mac yanked on his sleeve.
"Wait."
"What?" Gavin shot him a glare.
"Where exactly are we going? And what the fuck are we doing? Is this our Shawshank or what?"
"What?"
Mac sighed and looked at Gavin like he was stupid. "Are we escaping or what?"
"I'm looking for Dari and we just need to see what's happening...you know, in general. Like what the fuck is going on and where in the hell are those two cops, Vasser and Bailey?"
"Okay, okay. I just wanted to be clear."
"Do you want to leave?" Gavin asked.
"Are you kidding me? Let's go." Mac smiled and waved his hand.
They were almost all the way across the airport before they heard a chorus of groaning coming from the direction of the checkpoint. As they walked closer, they saw people standing at the checkpoint, milling around like bats in a cave. Not just a few people, either. It was a huge crowd.
Gavin ducked behind a large concrete pillar. Mac crouched behind a garbage can.
"What the fuck? Did everyone get infected?" Gavin asked astounded at what he saw.
Mac made a face and shook his head.
"Now what?" Gavin said.
"Do you see Dari?" Mac asked.
Gavin peered around the pillar. There were tons of people standing there. Too many to pick out anyone in particular and none of the ones he could see was his girlfriend. He turned back to Mac and shook his head.
"Too many people and they’re all bunched up. They all look infected to me."
"Hey, look," said Mac. He pointed over toward the exit lane.
Gavin looked and saw the two police officers from earlier, hiding behind a garbage can and a small pile of luggage that they must have stacked up.
Behind them Gavin saw dark shapes moving outside in the snow, slow and meandering.
Were the infected outside too? Fuck.
"We should get the cops' attention," said Mac.
Before Gavin could respond, Mac crawled backward toward a closed shop's doorway.