by Cross, Amy
“Right.” She hesitated, eyeing him with more than a hint of suspicion now and unable to quite stop looking at the metal bar. “Um, here's the thing. I know maybe Tom has been quite happy to let things slide, but he's not here right now and -”
“Oh? Where is he?”
“Well, he felt a little ill and he had to go home.”
“So it's just you tonight?”
“Just me.”
“That's interesting. Or, I mean, surprising. For an airport, I mean. I've always thought they should be a little stricter with the rules.”
“So anyway,” she continued, “I think I'm going to have to be a little firm about this. You should head home, and I'll pop a quick mention of this into the logbook, for your sake as well as mine, and -”
“Why would you do that?”
“I'm supposed to record anything that happens.”
“I don't think this really counts as something that's happening,” he replied, starting to sound just a little agitated now. “I mean, it's not happening, not in the strictest sense. It's just two people bumping into each other, all alone out here with no-one else around to see us, or to hear us, or to have any idea what's going on. Well, three people if you count the other guy. Either way, I don't see why you'd need to put any mention of it in your logbook. That'd be overkill.”
“I'm just following the rules.”
“Sure, but do you have to be such an uptight bitch about it?”
She opened her mouth to reply, before hesitating as if she'd taken a moment to process the last part of that question.
“I'm sorry?”
“What exactly do you think I'm doing here?” he continued. “Something I shouldn't?”
“I didn't say that.”
“Clearly you're acting like a jerk about something.”
“Excuse me?” Taking a deep breath, Casey straightened her shoulders and took a step toward him. “I'm going to ask you one more time, Mr. Muir. If you don't leave immediately, I'll have no choice but to escalate this matter to my superiors. You're not supposed to be here, and I think I've already been more than lenient.”
She waited, but now Derek simply stared at her.
“Is that how you want it?” she added, her voice sounding a little tighter and more nervous now. “You want me to take this up with someone else? Fine, I -”
“Don't get your knickers in a twist,” he replied, turning to walk away as she began to take her phone from her pocket. “I've got better things to do with my time anyway. I'm not gonna stand here and argue with some pumped-up little jobsworth bitch. Seeya later. Have fun all alone here tonight.”
With her phone still in her hand, Casey watched as Derek wandered out through the hangar's main entrance, and then she flinched as he tossed the metal bar aside. A moment later, once he'd disappeared into the night, she let out a sigh and slipped her phone away.
“Who are you calling a bitch, asshole?” she muttered, before heading over to the entrance and looking out toward the tarmac. There was no sign of Derek now, but she figured the snow was starting to really reduce visibility, and that he'd simply slouched off to fetch his bike and sulk on the way home.
***
“Mr. Muir failed to give a satisfactory explanation for his actions,” she muttered a short while later, as she sat in the security control room and made an entry in the logbook, “at which point I ordered him to leave. He became verbally abusive, and only left once I told him that I'd have to call for back-up. I then checked the entire hangar one more time, to ensure that it was secure, before returning to the terminal building and finishing my latest patrol.”
She read the entry back, before signing her name and setting the logbook on the desk. Glancing up at the monitors, she watched the various grainy black-and-white images for a moment, before suddenly sitting up straight and peering more closely as she saw that one of the images showed a figure sitting on a seat in the departure area.
“What the hell?” she whispered, getting to her feet.
***
Stopping at the edge of the atrium, Casey looked past the switched-off fountain and saw that sure enough there was a man sitting on one of the seats near gate 5b. She could only see the back of his head, but he appeared to be sitting bolt upright and simply staring toward the gate itself, as if he was waiting for a flight.
Casey hesitated for a moment, before stepping around the fountain and edging closer to the seating section, while making sure to keep a safe distance from the man.
“Excuse me?” she called out. “Hi, I'm sorry, can I speak to you for a moment?”
When the main failed to reply, she turned and looked all around, but there was no sign of anyone else. Turning back to the man, she made her way a little closer while also stepping around toward his side, and finally she stopped as she realized she recognized him. Her heart fell a little, accompanied by a rush of irritation.
“Derek Muir,” she said with a sigh. “Seriously? Do you think this is some kind of game?”
She waited, but Derek simply sat staring straight ahead.
“I've already mentioned you in the logbook,” she continued. “I'm pretty sure you'll have some questions to answer in the morning. People are going to want to know why you've been sneaking around the airport late at night, two days in a row. I'm sorry, but you've stepped way over the line and -”
Stopping suddenly, she saw that not only were his eyes looking toward the window, but that he didn't seem to have moved at all while she'd been talking to him. Even his eyes seemed to have remained completely still, not even blinking.
“Mr. Muir?” she said cautiously. “Are you going to leave?”
When he still failed to reply, she stepped around the nearest group of seats until she was almost in front of him.
“I'm ordering you to leave,” she added, trying to sound confident. “I can do that, you know. I have total authority to do that. So you have to leave, or else.”
Edging closer, she was about to ask again when she suddenly spotted spotted a thick, glistening wet patch in his hair, on the right side of his head. Reaching into her pocket for her phone, she took a couple more steps forward, until finally she saw a single trickle of blood running down the side of his neck and beneath his shirt's collar. The top of an old Royal Navy tattoo could just about be seen, glistening under the blood.
“Mr. Muir?”
Running toward him, she sat in the next seat and grabbed his hands, checking his wrists for a pulse. When that failed, she touched his neck, and then she got to her feet and took a step back. Tapping at her phone, she tried to call for back-up, only to find that she suddenly had no signal. She tried a couple more times, muttering under her breath as she held the phone up and desperately tried to get a connection.
“Come on,” she stammered, “just -”
Suddenly Derek lunged at her, grabbing her by the shoulders and falling against her. Unable to push him back, she fell to the carpeted floor and Derek landed on top of her, gasping as thick, syrupy blood began to dribble from his mouth. At the same time, he let out a gasping, spluttering groan as he stared down at her, and his eyes twitched as one of his pupils enlarged massively. Reaching up to push him back, Casey placed a hand on the side of his head and felt sticky blood against her fingers.
Forcing him away, she gasped and stumbled to her feet.
Derek groaned again, trying to grab her foot, before slumping back down against the floor.
“What happened?” she asked, stepping around him and then crouching to take another look at his head wound. As Derek twitched and groaned on the carpet, she parted the hair around the blood and saw shreds of torn flesh barely covering a patch of cracked and bloodied skull. “Oh God,” she whispered as she realized the full extent of the damage. “I'm gonna get you an ambulance, okay? Just hold on.”
He tried to roll over and grab her, but she stepped back and tapped at her phone again.
“Still nothing,” she said desperately. “Okay, Derek, I'm going to go and make a call,
okay? I don't want to move you, so -”
Before she could finish, he let out a pained roar. Tilting his head back, he let the roar become more of a whine as tears run from his cheeks, and finally he slumped back down against the carpet, still crying out like a wounded animal.
“Just hold tight!” Casey stammered, turning and hurry past the seats, making her way toward the door that led toward the security office. Still tapping furiously at her phone with trembling fingers, she shoulder-barged the door open and then hurried along the corridor. “Just give me some goddamn signal,” she muttered. “Come on, of all the times to not be able to get through...”
As soon as she reached the control room, she set her phone down and picked up the handset from the desk. Hearing no dial tone, however, she pushed down on the cradle several times, hoping to reset the phone so she could make a call.
“No, come on, seriously...”
She tried the cradle several more times, before turning and grabbing her phone again.
“You've got to be kidding me,” she continued, looking up at the monitors and then freezing as she saw that there was no longer any sign of Derek in the seating area. She looked from screen to screen, searching for him, but there was nothing. Turning and hurrying out of the office, she first began to head left along the corridor, to go and check on Derek in the departure area, before stopping suddenly and then hurrying the other way, pushing through two sets of double-doors and quickly reaching in the entrance hallway at the start of the departure lounge.
A little out of breath now, she ran through the main doors and finally emerged outside in the fog, next to the empty taxi rank.
“Come on!” she hissed, trying her phone again.
Still picking up no signal, she raced passed the rank and toward the parking lot, before stopping again and holding her phone up toward the sky in a fruitless attempt to get some kind of connection.
After looking all around and seeing no sign of anyone else, she was about to head back inside when she spotted a single electric light in the distance, burning in the office window at the side of the maintenance hangar. She hesitated for a moment, before starting to run toward the gate in the fence.
“Hey!” she yelled as soon as she was through the gate.
Racing out onto the tarmac, she ran as fast as she could manage through the snow. After just a few paces, however, she slipped and crashed down against the ice, although she quickly got back up and ran again. She slipped several more times over the next couple of minutes, but finally she reached the hangar's vast entrance and ran into the darkness, making her way past the workbenches and toward the door in the corner.
“Hello?” she shouted desperately. “Is anyone here? Do you have a phone?”
Pushing the door open, she ran into the office and then stopped.
There was no-one around.
The lamp still burned on the desk, but as she stepped closed she realized there was no sign of anyone in the office. Spotting a phone on the wall, she tried to make a call, but once again there was no connection. Turning and looking around, she seemed lost for a moment, as if she genuinely had no idea what to do next.
A moment later, she heard a bump in the doorway, and she turned to see David stepping stiffly into view.
“Thank God you're still here!” she stammered, hurrying toward him. “I need your help! Derek's injured, he's in the terminal and...”
Her voice trailed off for a moment.
“David, why are you here?” she asked finally. “I thought you were going back to town with Tom.”
“I was,” he replied, “but then I bumped into this guy who said he needed help with something. I followed him in here, but he vanished.”
“And you've been waiting all this time?”
“I figured he'd come back eventually.”
“Sure, but...”
Again, her voice trailed off.
“You said something about someone being injured?” he continued.
“There's a guy in the terminal building,” she replied, turning and heading toward the door, before hesitating as she realized she felt a little dizzy. “His name's Derek, he -”
“Oh, Derek,” David said, “sure. He's the guy who asked me for help.”
“This doesn't make any sense,” Casey pointed out, stepping back over to him. “I don't quite understand what's happening.”
“No,” David replied calmly, “you don't, do you? I think maybe it'd be best if...”
He paused, before sitting on the edge of one of the desks and putting his head in his hands.
“What's wrong?” Casey asked. “David?”
“It has to be tonight,” he replied. “Why didn't I see that?”
“What has to be tonight?” She edged closer, worried that he was sick but also wondering why he was acting so strangely.
“You don't know, do you?” he continued, turning to her with a desperate expression in his eyes. “I thought maybe you had a clue, that you could at least guess that something was up, but you really don't understand. You're utterly clueless. All of you.”
“All of who?”
“Don't you think it's odd that an airport in the twenty-first century leaves two incompetent guards on duty all night?” he asked. “Don't think it'd odd that you've basically got the run of the place? Don't you think it's just a little strange that in the era of 911 and terrorists and national security, this airport is just sitting here like this?” He stared at her for a moment, before starting to laugh. “It's got to be tonight. You've seen the weather out there. This might be my last chance.”
“What -”
Before she could finish, Casey felt another burst of dizziness rush through her head. Stepping back, she supported herself against the wall as she realized the world around her somehow seemed less real.
“You stupid little cow,” David continued, getting to his feet and stepping over to her, before reaching closer and touching her hair with a hint of wonder in his eyes. “You stupid, dead little cow.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Tom, wake up! Tom, there's a burglar in the house!”
Opening his eyes with a start, Tom found that he was still in his favorite armchair, still in the front room with the lights off. Kath was crouching next to him, gripping his arm as she looked back toward the door. The hallway light was on, and there was the sound of someone shuffling about in the kitchen.
“It's another burglar!” she hissed. “Oh Tom, what are we going to do?”
“Another one?” he replied, before slowly getting to his feet.
“Tom, be careful!”
“I have to check,” he said, slipping free of her grip and making his way across the room. “Sounds like the noisiest bleedin' burglar I've ever heard.”
“Tom, don't go!” Kath sobbed, still crouching next to the chair. “Tom, it might be dangerous!”
Reaching the doorway, Tom looked through into the well-lit hallway. A moment later, he watched with surprise as a woman walked down the stairs and headed into the kitchen.
“Alright,” he heard a man's voice saying. “I just got peckish.”
“Make one for me, then,” the woman replied.
“Tom, please,” Kath whimpered, “we need to get out of here! We need to call the police!”
Ignoring her, feeling slightly dizzy, Tom made his way across the hallway until he reached the next door. Looking through into the kitchen, he watched as the man continued to butter some bread, while the woman was drinking a glass of water at the sink.
“Couldn't sleep again, huh?” the man said after a moment.
“I swear I heard a bump,” the woman replied.
“Things that go bump in the night?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I didn't hear anything, honey.”
“You never do.” The woman turned and looked toward the doorway, almost but not quite staring straight at Tom. “It happens a few times a week now. Babe, I know you're not into that sort of thing, but this hous
e is starting to really creep me out.”
“We had it checked,” he muttered, as he started buttering some more bread. “The only person who ever died here was an old woman. Do you seriously think some old woman is haunting us?”
“But remember how she died,” the woman said with a sigh. “She had a heart attack when she found out her husband had been killed at the airport. What if they're both here somehow? What were their names again? Thomas and Katherine something? What if, because of how he died, and because it was all so tragic, their ghosts are still in the house?” She paused for a moment. “I think we should get someone in.”
“Like an exorcist?”
“Yes, like an exorcist!”
As the young couple continued to argue, Tom slowly turned and shuffled back across the hallway. He was feeling dizzier than ever now, and when he reached the door to the front room he had to stop for a moment and support himself against the jamb. Spotting Kath on the floor, shivering with fear next to the armchair, he opened his mouth to tell her what he'd seen and heard, before realizing that he wasn't quite sure where to begin.
“What is it?” Kath hissed. “Are they gone? Are the burglars gone?”
“They're not burglars,” he replied, flinching slightly as a memory flickered in his mind. A memory of brief, immense pain. “They're supposed to be here. I think we're the ones who should have left already.”
***
Sitting on the sofa, halfway through another episode of DIY Disasters, Sophie glanced at her phone to check the time. Sighing, she tapped out a quick message to Natasha, asking how much longer she'd be at the counseling session, before turning her attention back to the laptop screen.
Next to her, Natasha sat with horrified, shocked eyes, staring down at her own hands. The front of her shirt was covered in blood, and there was a lot more blood on her back, where the knife had entered.
***
Casey gasped and sat up, only to find that thick ropes were holding her arms at her sides and securing her to a set of metal pipes than ran along the wall. She pulled a couple of times, trying to get away, before looking across the hangar's office and seeing that she was all alone.