by Cross, Amy
“There'll probably be more ice than usual.”
“I'll be careful.”
Still shivering, she took a tentative step forward, terrified of suddenly finding another patch of ice. Once she'd managed a whole step, she took another pause before trying the next.
“It'll take you all night at that speed,” Tom said suddenly. “Do you wanna know how I do it?”
“How?” she asked, through gritted teeth.
“I order these little spiked things to attach to my shoes. You should order some online.”
“I'll remember that.”
“Of course, that's not much use to you now, is it?”
“I suppose not.”
“You're gonna fall eventually,” he continued, sounding remarkably warm and chipper. “If you want my advice, you'll just go with it. When you feel yourself slipping, though, remember to relax your body. The mistake people usually make is -”
“I'll try,” she told him, cutting him off. “I think I should put the phone down now and just focus on walking.”
“Sure you don't want my delightful voice keeping you company?”
“I'll be fine. Um, over and out.”
With that, she cut the call and slipped the phone back into her pocket, before pausing to survey the mass of snow and ice that covered the ground ahead. The fear was evident in her eyes, and she took a moment to make absolutely sure that her jacket was properly sealed before finally taking a couple more steps forward. She almost made it all the way to the next door before a small patch of ice caught her out and she let out a startled yelp, slipping and crashing down to the ground with a heavy thud.
“Damn it!” she hissed, pausing for a moment to make sure that nothing was broken, before rolling onto her side and slowly getting to her feet. As she did so, she glanced up at one of the security camera installations and offered a faint smile. “I'm okay!” she called out, even though she knew he could probably only see her, not hear her. “Nothing damaged!”
As she made her way cautiously along the side of the building, a figure stood several hundred meters away, watching her from the middle of the tarmac as snow swirled through the night air.
***
In the control room, Tom was standing at the coffee table, mumbling to himself as he sorted through the various types of tea he'd collected in an old cup. He was arranging them alphabetically, while also separating out the fruit teas that he detested so much.
“Not long now,” he muttered under his breath, as he moved the fruit teas to the back of the table and began going through the greens. “Almost there.”
Behind him, the monitors continued to flicker with images from around the deserted airport. On one of those monitors, Casey could be seen wading through the snow outside, while the facial recognition system continually tried and failed to target an area of blank space just over her shoulder.
***
“Cold cold cold!” Casey muttered under her breath, as she reached the farthest end of the main terminal building and waded around the corner, struggling to get through the piles of snow that had earlier – much earlier – been pushed aside by the plowing vehicles.
Stopping for a moment to get her breath back, she shone the flashlight around and saw nothing but swirling snow falling all around. After a few seconds she squinted slightly, looking toward a very faint, very large and dark shape parked a few hundred meters away. There were several large planes near the perimeter of the airfield, parked away from the building and left to sit until they'd be needed again. Some were even left over from airlines that had gone out of business, with nobody being quite sure as to who owned them these days. Forgotten and abandoned, they were allowed to just stand and wait in darkness, with clamps on their wheels to make sure that they couldn't go anywhere. On their sides, dark windows stared out at the snow like a row of eyes.
Taking her phone from her pocket, Casey brought up Tom's number and called. She heard the ring-tone for only a few seconds before the line went silent. A couple of seconds later, she heard a static-filled hiss.
“There's nobody out here!” she told him, raising her voice so as to be heard over the sound of the gale-force winds. “Do you want me to go all the way around the other side of the terminal?”
She waited, but still all she heard was static.
“Tom?”
Sighing, she looked over her shoulder and saw a solitary gantry light back the way she'd just come, in the process of blinking from green to red.
“Okay, I guess I'll keep going, then,” she continued, before cutting the call and stuffing the phone back into her pocket. After double-checking that her jacket was zipped all the way to the top, and that all the buttons were popped shut, she began to make her way through the piles of snow, only to almost slip after just a couple of paces. Her right leg slid way out from under her, but she was just about able to hold her balance and after a moment she managed to stand up straight again. The muscles in her legs were already complaining.
She took a deep breath, and then she began to set off again.
Suddenly, hearing the sound of hurried footsteps, she turned and shone her flashlight back out toward the main airfield. For a moment, as the beam of light burned through the snowstorm, she heard the footsteps continuing, as if someone was running past one of the parked planes and heading toward the terminal. There was no sign of anyone, and the constantly-swirling snow made it difficult to pick out any movement, and finally the footsteps faded into the distance.
“Hello?” Casey called out.
She waited a few seconds, before trudging through the snow and then stopping to shine the flashlight around again.
“Hello, is anyone there?”
Looking along the side of the terminal building, she saw only the dark, looming shapes of parked planes. She stayed completely still for a full minute as she watched for even the slightest hint that someone was nearby. Finally, she took her phone from her pocket and once again called Tom's number.
“Hey,” she said, as soon as she heard a click on the other end, “did you see anyone on any of the cameras?”
“What do -”
Tom's voice was immediately cut off by a burst of interference, only returning several seconds later:
“didn't see anything on the -”
She waited, as the call dropped again.
“Tom?”
“none of the motion -”
She sighed.
“makes you think that there could -”
More static.
“jumpy on your first night, that's -”
Sighing again, she waited a moment longer, but now Tom's interference-ridden voice had fallen still.
“Listen, Tom,” she said finally, “I don't know what's up with this thing, but I can't hear you properly. I'm going to take a look all the way around the place, okay? I thought I heard footsteps, but the storm's pretty noisy so I could totally have been wrong about that.” She hesitated, just in case by some miracle his voice returned. “Okay, then. Um, over and out.”
Cutting the call, she checked the time and saw that it was 1:45am, and then she slipped her phone away before starting to very carefully make her way through the piles of snow. Once she was around on the other side of the terminal building, she stopped for a moment to shine her flashlight in all directions, and then she began to slowly inch forward across a patch of ice, finally making the far side and reaching the relative safety of a snow-covered walkway, where she grabbed the wall for support.
“Thank you,” she whispered, immensely relieved that she hadn't slipped again. “Thank you, thank you.”
Once she was confident-enough to let go of the wall, she shone her flashlight again, watching as the beam caught the underside of a parked plane, and then she froze as she spotted a rectangle of light opening on the side of the building, about two hundred feet up ahead.
A moment later, the rectangle of light vanished.
“What the hell?” she whispered, struggling through the snow and mak
ing her way forward. Unable to walk too fast, she finally made her way to the spot where she'd seen the light, and then she stopped and shone her flashlight at the gray rectangular shape of door 47B. Next to the door, an access panel was blinking yellow in the darkness.
Yellow?
She could guess what green or red meant, but yellow seemed a little unusual.
She glanced around, before stepping forward and trying the door. It refused to budge, of course, so she fished her key-card from her pocket and swiped it against the panel, and this time the door slid open, casting a patch of light from inside the building.
“Huh,” Casey muttered, staring in toward another bare, cream-walled corridor.
She hesitated for a moment, before stepping through the door and into the corridor, which led away straight ahead toward a corner in the distance. On the wall nearby, a large sign warned that this area was for airport employees only, and that any trespassers would be prosecuted. There were various other signs, too, listing airport procedures for venturing out to the gate areas.
Casey stood in silence for a moment, listening in case the footsteps returned, until suddenly the door slid shut behind her.
“Is anyone in here?” she called out finally.
She waited.
Silence.
“Tom, you're not down here, are you?”
Taking her phone from her pocket, she tried calling his number again.
“Where are you?” he asked, his voice coming across much more clearly now. “I've lost you on the cameras.”
“I just came inside through door 47B,” she told him. “I know I might be imagining things, but I swear I heard footsteps outside, and then I think this door seemed to, like, open all by itself.”
“That's impossible. All the doors require key passes to activate.”
“I know. I had to use mine. But I swear it opened.”
She heard a shuffling sound on the other end of the line.
“According to the system, the door opened just now.”
“That was me. What about a minute or two before that?”
“Doesn't say anything,” he continued. “I mean, it might not, if it was within sixty seconds of another opening. Another bug in the system.”
“It might have been.”
“I'm sure it's nothing.”
“Shouldn't we -”
“Ah, I see you now,” he added, causing her to glance up at the black-domed camera on the ceiling. “There are motion sensors all around there, and none of them picked up anything moving in that corridor, not until you went in there.”
“Should I keep looking?” she asked.
He sighed. “Now you're in, you might as well come back to the control room via the departure area. Just go straight ahead and poke around, and then follow the signs. But don't get too jumpy, young lady. All the sensors show that there's really nobody out there. There'll be a nice cup of tea waiting for you when you get back. Sugar, no milk, just how you like it.”
“Sounds great,” she muttered, cutting the call and stuffing the phone away, before switching the flashlight off and kicking some snow from her boots.
Stepping forward, she made her way cautiously along the corridor. It took several minutes for her to reach the far end, at which point she walked around the corner and found a glass-paneled door leading into the departure area. After swiping her card, she was able to get the door open and step into a high-ceilinged hall with hundreds of rows of blue-cushioned chairs. Shuttered shops lined the walls, while signs and information monitors hung down from high above. On one of the nearby monitors, the following morning's first flight was listed, although the 7.50am to London was still six hours from boarding and the airport itself was still three hours from opening.
Casey stood in silence for a moment, looking around but seeing no sign of movement.
“Hello?” she called out.
No reply.
“Hello?”
Silence.
She sighed.
Suddenly a furious, high-pitched scream rang out from above. Instinctively clamping her hands over her ears, she stepped back and bumped against the wall as the scream twisted and buzzed and became even louder. After a few seconds, the sound dropped just as suddenly to a low, persistent buzz, and Casey cautiously moved her hands away from her ears.
“Hello!” a loud, slightly buzzing voice boomed, seemingly coming from all around the departure area. “This is the voice of God!”
The scream briefly surged again, before being replaced by a buzzing, throaty laugh.
“Just kidding!” Tom continued, sounding extremely pleased with himself. “Sorry, didn't mean to scare you! It's not really God. It's me!”
“You're very loud!” she yelled.
“Sorry I'm so loud. The volume has to be like this during the day, 'cause it has to be heard over the voices of all the passengers. You'd never believe how noisy they get. Anyway, have you found anything yet?”
“I haven't really looked!”
With her hands still poised to protect her ears, in case the screaming sound returned, Casey took a couple of steps forward. Above, several cameras stared at her, and she looked at each of them in turn, wondering which one Tom was using to watch her.
“I guess I just got spooked earlier,” she stammered. “I'm sure I heard footsteps, but maybe the sound of the storm tricked me somehow.”
“I can't actually hear you,” Tom's voice boomed. “You can hear me, but there are no microphones down there to pick your voice up. Anyway, I've just finished making a nice cup of tea for each of us, so get your bum back to the office, okay? And don't worry too much about every click and bump. A place like this has so many bloomin' automated systems, there's always some flashing box or whirring motor going about its business somewhere. This is the voice of God, over and out!”
He began to chuckle to himself, and Casey raised her hands to her ears again as she heard the flickering scream starting to return, but then suddenly the tannoy fell dead and the departure area was left once more in silence.
Spotting another domed camera at the top of a nearby pillar, Casey stared for a moment before offering a faint smile and then taking a moment to get her bearings back. After checking her phone and seeing that it was 1.55am, she began to make her way cautiously across the departure area, passing the higher-numbered gates while looking out for any signs on the walls that might tell her how to get back to the security office.
Or a map. A map would be good.
By the time she reached the central atrium, she still hadn't figured out the correct route, so she stopped for a moment and looked around. She was in a brightly-lit part of the terminal, with rows of empty seats stretching away into the distance, and finally she spotted a sign on the wall that indicated the security office was behind her. Turning, she set off between the seats, stopping briefly to pick up a plastic wrapper that the cleaners had evidently missed. After tossing the wrapper into a bin, she wandered along the main aisle that led past gates nine to fourteen, while still glancing around and looking at all the shuttered newsagents, bookstores and perfume shops that would be opening in a few hours' time.
As she walked, she passed from the brightly-lit central atrium through to a darker section where the lights had been switched off.
And then suddenly she stopped, as she saw that a solitary human figure was sitting on a seat ahead, with its back to her.
From where she was standing, all Casey could really make out was that the figure was all alone on a seat in the middle of a row. The woman – and it seemed definitely to be a woman – was sitting upright, as if she was staring straight ahead, and she appeared to be looking at a large wall-to-ceiling window that offered a view of the storm that still raged outside. It was as if the vast, swirling patterns of snow had mesmerized the woman, leaving her completely unaware that she'd been joined in the departure hall.
Casey remained completely still for a moment, as if she didn't dare move. She blinked a couple of times, half-expe
cting the figure of the woman to suddenly vanish. In the back of her mind, she was already wondering whether this was just some normal thing that Tom had forgotten to mention.
“Um... hello?” she called out finally.
No response.
The woman simply remained in the seat, with her back still turned to Casey, still watching the storm.
“Are you supposed to be here?” Casey asked, taking a cautious step forward as she reached into her pocket and took out her phone. “Excuse me, um, M'am? Are you a member of staff?”
She stopped and watched the woman, who remained silhouetted against the storm that raged on the other side of the window.
“M'am?” Casey continued, her voice sounding much tighter and more tense now. “M'am, I'm security, and I wasn't aware that anyone else was supposed to be here tonight. I'm sure there's nothing wrong and we can figure this out, but I'm going to have to ask you to identify yourself.”
Glancing around, she spotted several cameras on the nearby walls, and then she tapped at her phone to bring up Tom's number.
“What's wrong?” he asked. “Lost your way?”
“There's someone here.”
“Say what now?”
“There's a woman sitting on one of the seats next to gate fourteen,” she continued, trying really really hard to sound composed and controlled. “She's got her back to me and she hasn't responded to anything I've said so far.”
She waited, but there was no reply from the other end of the line. As she watched, however, she saw that one of the screens near the woman was flickering to life, briefly displaying a gate call for flight DSE9191 to London. The graphics only appeared for a fraction of a second, before fading again.
“It says something about flight DSE9191,” she added. “Tom? Can you hear me?”
“Where did you say you were again?”
“Next to gate fourteen. Can't you see me on the cameras?”
There was a faint bumping sound from the phone, as if Tom was checking something.
“Are you talking about the seats right up close to the wall, near the bathrooms?” he asked, and now he too sounded concerned.