The Ghosts of Hexley Airport
Page 9
“I'm sure they know what they're doing,” Casey said, watching as the view on one of the monitors changed. “Now, about this -”
“Then there's Old Eve,” Tom added with a sigh. “We definitely shouldn't get started talking about Old Eve.”
“No,” Casey replied, “we probably shouldn't.”
“A lot of people claim to have seen her, though,” Tom continued. “They reckon not a week goes by without someone claiming to have seen her. Most of it's probably nonsense. You know what people are like. They like to spook themselves silly with all this talk.”
“Sure.”
“Not me.”
“No. So about the -”
“Two years ago,” he continued, clearly warming to his theme now, “a mechanic working with incoming planes reported seeing a ghostly figure standing at the foot of a set of metal steps that were due to be used for an arriving flight. The sight of her spooked him so much, he didn't dare go near the steps so he went and fetched some others. Later that day, another technician happened to notice that the original steps were damaged. If they'd been used, they'd almost certainly have collapsed and people would have been hurt, maybe even killed.”
He took yet another sip of tea, before turning to Casey.
“I'm not saying it's true,” he added, “but it makes you think, doesn't it?”
“I'm sure it...”
Casey's voice trailed off for a moment.
“So,” she continued cautiously, “do you actually think it's possible that -”
Before she could finish, her attention was drawn to a flashing light on the control board. Leaning closer, she squinted a little as she examined one of the panels.
“That'll be one of the sensors in the repair hangar,” Tom muttered, tapping at the board until the light fell dark again. “Probably nothing. Sometimes a strong wind can set them off.”
“Shouldn't we go and check?”
He hesitated, as if he was leaning toward staying put, but a moment later a different light started flashing.
“Yeah,” he said cautiously, getting to his feet and removing his glasses so he could clean them with the bottom of his shirt. “Best to go and take a look-see, just in case.”
“Do you want me to do it?”
“Protocol says we should both go,” he replied wearily, heading over to the hooks where their jackets were hanging. “You know, it's at times like this that I wish we had guns, like they have in America. I'm not a violent man, but I'd feel a lot better if I had something I could use to defend myself, something a bit more effective than a rubber truncheon. Of course, the bosses reckon it's only the day guys who need guns, so they don't bother paying the extra money to arm us poor sods on the night shift. If anything goes down, we're supposed to call the local fuzz to deal with it. Cheapskates, eh?”
Turning to look back at the board, Casey saw that the second light was still flashing.
“It's probably nothing,” Tom told her, “but it's our job to go and make sure. Grab your jacket. You're about to get a lesson in securing an aircraft hangar.”
***
In the brightly-lit departure area, a woman sat all alone on a seat near gate fourteen. She was watching the window, looking out at the tarmac. In the distance, two small figures were driving away from the building on a motorized security cart, winding their way between the piles of snow that still hadn't melted away. A few hundred meters further off, the huge aircraft repair hangar stood in darkness, barely visible with all its lights switched off.
And still the woman sat and watched, as if she was waiting for something.
***
“Now this is spooky!” Tom called out, struggling to make himself heard over the sounds of both the electric motor and the howling wind that rushed past them on the tarmac. “You want spooky, I'm giving you spooky!”
As the wind ruffled her hair, Casey couldn't help watching the huge, dark building that loomed ahead of them. The main entrance was large enough for a commercial jet to be eased inside, leaving a huge black rectangle at night with just a hint of a plane's nose visible inside. As the security cart continued to bump its way across the remains of the previous night's snow, Casey glanced over her shoulder, looking back toward the terminal building as if she wished she was back in the warmth of the security control room. For a moment, she looked at the lights of the departure area, half-expecting to see a figure at one of the windows.
“Have you ever got into a fight with a badger?” Tom asked suddenly.
Casey turned to him, just as he slowed the cart and parked them at the edge of the concrete loading area outside the front of the hangar.
“Well?” he added with a chuckle. “Have you?”
“I'm sorry,” she replied, “did you say -”
“Obviously you haven't,” he continued as he climbed out of the cart, “seeing as how you're a nice young lady, and all. Now, the thing is, badgers can sometimes evade the motion sensors on the perimeter, but then they set off an alarm once they're somewhere on the airport proper. Sounds innocuous, doesn't it? Except that badgers chew through wires. They're right little bastards, if you'll pardon the expression. They've also vicious, and the last thing you want is an angry badger coming after you.”
“Right,” she said cautiously, “I... guess that makes sense.”
“The most likely outcome in this particular sensation is that the sensor was faulty and there's nothing to worry about,” he explained, “and the second most likely outcome is that there's a badger on the loose. So if you see a badger, don't try to shoo it away or anything like that. Just leave it, and we'll tell the guys on the shift after us. They can call for animal control to come and deal with it. Alright?”
“Um, sure.”
“Because you really don't wanna take on a badger in a combat situation.”
“Understood.”
She watched as Tom turned and headed into the vast hangar, but she hesitated for a moment longer before finally climbing out of the cart and heading after him. Looking up at the nose of the plane, she felt almost in awe as she stepped around the large forward wheel. Shivering slightly in the cold, she couldn't help feeling that the planes seemed so much larger than she'd expected.
“Good job it's not on,” Tom said suddenly. “You'd be dead by now.”
She turned to him. “Huh?”
Grinning, he pointed at one of the engines, and Casey realized that she'd inadvertently wandered almost to the edge of the main casing.
“You're in the danger zone,” Tom explained. “If that thing was on right now, you have been sucked in and ground up to mincemeat and spat out the back. The duty boys'd love cleaning up all that mess. Plus, the engine'd be ruined.”
“That's never happened, though, has it?” she asked.
“Not here, but you hear stories about other places.”
She smiled cautiously.
“You're joking, right?” she said finally. “Tom? That's never actually happened anywhere. Has it?”
He made his way past the engine, quickly disappearing into the shadows.
“Just take a nose around!” he called out. “And make sure to watch our for badgers. Oh, and also -”
Suddenly his voice cut off abruptly.
Casey waited a moment.
“Tom?” she said cautiously. “Are you okay?”
“Dozy buggers,” he replied, stepping back into view and looking up at the metal steps that led to the open door on the side of the plane. “I hope you realize, Casey, that leaving the plane unguarded like this is a massive security breach. Those lazy asses on the day shift couldn't care less, of course, and they know no-one's gonna come along and call them up on it. Still, if you want a prime example of why this airport is run by jackasses who don't give a rat's arse about proper procedure... Well, take a look at this mess.”
He switched his flashlight on and aimed it up toward the open door.
“Why's this plane in here, anyway?” Casey asked as she headed over to join him.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean go up there and make sure no bugger has decided to go into the plane. Unless you'd rather take a look in the shadows at the far end of the hangar and see if there are any badgers around?”
“But -”
“It's your choice.”
She hesitated, before forcing a weak smile.
“I guess I'll check the plane, then,” she told him. “I'm sure there's nothing in there.”
“Of course there isn't, but we have to be sure.” Turning, he headed back toward the shadows, while aiming his flashlight toward the workbenches at the far end of the hangar. “You'll be fine!” he called back to her. “The worst thing you'll find up there is airline food! For God's sake, don't touch any of it!”
“I've never actually been on a plane before,” she replied, her voice trembling slightly. “I've never flown.”
She waited, but Tom either hadn't heard her, or was too busy in the shadows.
Looking up the stairs toward the open door on the side of the plane, Casey paused for a moment before reaching forward and giving the railing a shake. Once she was satisfied that it was sturdy, she began to climb up, while switching her flashlight on and muttering under her breath about not being afraid of heights. The metal steps rattled and swayed slightly as she got higher, and she kept one hand very firmly gripping the railing as she reached the narrow platform at the top. A small gap had been left between the platform and the plane's door, and she stopped for a moment to shine her flashlight into the entrance area.
“Okay, then,” she said out loud, as if to give herself a little extra confidence, and then finally she stepped over the gap and into the plane.
As soon as she reached the end of the aisle, she aimed her flashlight toward the rear of the plane. All she saw were rows and rows of empty seats stretching back into the darkness, waiting for passengers to eventually head on-board. After a moment, she pointed the flashlight toward the empty overhead lockers that all had their doors open. The whole plane was utterly silent and cold, and it was already clear that there were no intruders, but at the same time Casey knew she had to be certain.
“Hello?” she called out. “Is anyone here?”
No reply.
Three hundred empty seats simply stared back at her. For a moment, Casey worried that suddenly she'd see a face staring back at her from one of those seats, but she quickly pushed that idea out of her mind and told herself to stop letting Tom spook her.
Stepping forward, she began to make her way along the aisle, glancing either side to make absolutely sure that nobody was hiding in any of the seating areas. She peered into the overhead lockers, too, just to be sure, and then finally she reached the far end of the aisle and took a look in the crew area, which turned out to be just as empty. Turning, she looked back along the aisle and saw the backs of the seats.
And then she hesitated as she saw that the door to the cockpit was ajar.
“Hello?” she said cautiously. “Is someone there?”
She waited, before making her way back along the aisle until she reached the cockpit door. Pushing it all the way open, she looked through into the darkness of the cockpit and saw two empty seats in front of the plane's controls.
“This was shut when I came on,” she muttered under her breath, furrowing her brow, “or...”
She hesitated, before stepping into the cockpit and looking at the huge array of equipment. Stopping in the space between the captain's and co-pilot's seats, she seemed momentarily stunned by the sight of all the panels, switches and levers, as if she'd never seen such a cramped yet busy little space. Every available surface seemed to have been used for either a screen or a button or a control unit of some kind, and Casey couldn't quite imagine that anyone would ever be able to operate such a complicated set of equipment. Ducking down, she leaned over the pilot's seat and took a closer look at the main control unit.
***
Down on the ground, just outside the hangar's main entrance, a woman with a deathly pale face stood watching the plane. Her eyes were fixed on the cockpit windows, where Casey could just about be seen still looking around at the plane's controls.
***
“Are you still in there?” Tom asked as soon as Casey answered her phone, which had just started ringing a moment earlier.
“Just finished checking the place out,” she replied, turning and immediately banging her head against a control array that hung down low from the ceiling. Letting out a faint gasp of pain, she rubbed the painful spot as she stepped out of the cockpit. As she did so, she heard steps clattering up the metal staircase, and a moment later Tom arrived in the doorway.
“How the hell did you get in there?” he asked.
“It was open.”
“Jesus H. Christ,” he said with a sigh, heading over to join her and peering into the cockpit. “Maybe they're trying to set a world record for security breaches. Airport rules are very clear. Cockpits should never, under any circumstances, be left unguarded like this, not even for a second. You know, being all the way up here in the wilds, Hexley gets away with a lot. This kind of lackadaisical approach'd never fly anywhere else. Good job there are no terrorists in Hexley.”
“Well, you can't be sure of that,” Casey pointed out.
“In little Hexley?” He chuckled. “As if. You wouldn't get ISIS up here, not in this cold.”
“I'm really not sure that's necessarily true...”
Pulling the door shut, Tom took a padlock from his jacket pocket and fixed it to the frame, before checking to make sure that no-one would be able to get back into the cockpit. He was muttering to himself, something about terrorists and snow, something that Casey wasn't entirely sure she wanted to hear.
“Won't they be annoyed when they can't get inside in the morning?” she asked finally, still rubbing the spot on her head where she'd banged into the array. “The technicians, I mean.”
“I bleedin' well hope so,” Tom muttered, slipping the padlock's key into his pocket. “Then they can come to the office and explain why they've got a problem, can't they? I'm telling you, girl, I'm by no means a stickler for every rule and regulation, but some of them are in place for a reason. One day, someone from the government'll pop by this place and see how it's run, and the brown stuff will most certainly hit the fan. God knows, Hexley's been getting away with sloppy procedures for years now.”
“Did you find any sign of intruders?” she asked. “Or badgers?”
“Nah, it was just a false alarm,” he replied, peering past her and taking a look along the aisle for a moment, before turning and heading back out to the top of the metal stairs. “Mind the gap, as they say. I tell you what, young lady, for all the security measures they put in place here, they'll never be able to entirely stamp out the problem of lazy human beings. Not until the robots come and take all our jobs, anyway. If you want my opinion, laziness is the biggest killer on this whole planet.”
“Sure,” Casey muttered, following him out to the stairs and then gripping the railing tight as she began to make her way down. “At least -”
Stopping suddenly, she looked past the plane's wing and over toward the far end of the hangar.
“Did you see that?” she asked.
“See what?”
“There's someone down there.”
“Oh, pull the other one,” Tom replied, “it's got bells on.”
“No, I saw someone,” she continued, staring toward the shadows. “I'm not lying, Tom, I -”
Suddenly a figure slipped briefly into view, before heading out through a small door at the back of the building.
“There!” Casey yelled.
“I see it!” Tom shouted, as they both started clattering down the swaying metal staircase. “After him!”
As soon as she r
eached the bottom of the stairs, Casey began to follow Tom toward the far end of the hangar, before stopping suddenly as she'd suddenly realized that the door led to an office and then to a yard with a high wall, which meant nobody could get out unless they went around the side of the main building. Turning, she scampered back toward the hangar's huge main door and ran around toward the right-hand side of the concrete parkway She immediately slipped in the snow and crashed down, before scrambling to her feet and hurrying toward the building's far corner. Sure enough, she quickly spotted a figure hurrying away through the darkness, heading out across the tarmac.
“Stop!” she yelled. “Freeze!”
She ran to catch the figure, before coming to a halt as she realized that the man – and he appeared to be a man, at least in silhouette form from the back – had stopped about twenty meters ahead.
“Who are you?” she shouted. “What are you doing here?”
She waited, watching the figure and seeing the vapor of its breath in the cold night air.
“Did you find anything?” Tom gasped breathlessly as he finally caught up and stopped next to her. “Blimey, who's that?”
The figure remained completely motionless for a few more seconds, before slowly turning and starting to crunch back toward them across the frosty grass at the edge of the tarmac.
Casey opened her mouth to call out to him.
“Derek?” Tom said suddenly.
“Alright, mate,” the figure replied, finally stepping into view and revealing a smiling face with a hint of a tattoo curling up from under his collar. “Sorry, I didn't think anyone'd notice me out here tonight. To be honest, I thought I'd have the whole place to myself.”
Chapter Seven
“Derek's been on the ground crew at Hexley since before I was here,” Tom explained, as the three of them sat in the maintenance office at the rear of the hangar. “This man can tell you more about Hexley Airport than anyone else alive. Or dead, most likely, for that matter.”
“I'm not completely ancient,” Derek replied, adding more sugar to his tea, then stirring it in with a spoon that banged against the mug's edge. “But yeah, I've been here a while. Started as a lad, just eighteen, apprenticed to the supply division. It was only supposed to be a six month deal, and now forty years later here I am still basically doing the same thing. Funny how life works out, eh? This airport's kind of become my whole life.”