by M. O. McLeod
“How much do we have?” Inis asked his mother.
“We have that but we need a group ticket with five people not three,” Fae emphasized.
“Do you have any tickets for a group of five?” Inis yelled over the heads of the people. He was tall, the tallest out of his siblings. Allie, his twin brother, was identical to him, but not when it came to height. Inis put his hands around his mouth and repeated his question again.
“Young man in the back,” the customer rep started. “Tickets sales begin that big in the afternoon. During the morning time we only have one to three set tickets available,” the lady explained as she continued to bid higher.
Inis screwed his face up and looked for his mom’s reaction. Prissy was the one who overreacted though.
“This is why I said to not waste time,” she yelled in Inis face and grabbed for her baby. “By the time the afternoon hits then there will be more people, people with more money and the tickets will be gone!”
“Just have a little patience,” Fae tried to console her younger sister.
“This airport is a sitting duck when night falls I’m sure,” Prissy continued to complain. “Everybody thought it was so clever to have an airport with open areas, and sunlight and the breeze, and all that bull crap. The goddamn Phantoms are going to breeze right through this place!”
“It’s nowhere near dark out and there are a ton of security and police officers around,” said Inis. “I say we try and stay until the afternoon to get the tickets.”
Aunt Prissy shook her head and clutched her child even tighter. The afternoon was near the night time and she was not going back out there at night. She hoped nothing perilous came in either. “You don’t even know how much the tickets will be.”
“We have to try, otherwise we just wasted this trip and missed a chance to leave,” Inis explained.
So they stayed until the sun was sinking in the sky, heating the open-spaced airport, melting the snow on the outside windows while shedding warmth on the citizens inside who stayed and bid. Ticket by ticket, people paid good dollar and left on aircrafts; leaving their beloved city behind. The more people left the more people came. All the while, Prissy was counting down the hours.
Finally, a new customer rep stepped forward and informed the room that the group bids were taking place in an entire different concourse. Inis didn’t need to be told twice. He gathered everybody up and ran to Console A. Even with the head start Inis and his family were not the first one’s there. There were families already in place. It seemed as if they had slept in the airport or just knew where the group bids started, something Inis was new to.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to make this quick so that we have ample time to be situated inside the plane carrier and cleared for flight,” the representative spoke soft into the communicator. “After the bids are over it is highly recommended that everyone disperse before darkness falls. Here at ALM airport we care about the safety of the citizens. The biddings have now begun.”
It was mayhem. There was pushing and shoving, pleading and begging came next, then anger. Men were angry at who out-bid them. Women were tired of crying and sobbing. Children were aggravated and hungry. Still, there were families who made it on planes and walked with a purpose as they made their way out onto the boarding dock in the cold. There was one group ticket left for six and Inis and his mother bided until they could bid no more, and still the family across from them paid the highest price of the night, twelve thousand dollars.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the bidding is now closed,” screamed a man in all black riot gear. Inis hadn’t even seen him approach; he was busily fighting for his family’s way out. But the gear brought back memories. Inis remembered the night his brother was attacked and carried off. He felt the fear of running through Alexandria as the attacks began all over as more men in black pushed forward with guns. Families quickly dispersed, running here and there. Some stayed though, Inis could see they were going off in places they shouldn’t be, behind counters, into restaurants that seemed closed.
“We should head back to the car and leave. Get back on the freeway and forget this plan,” Prissy demanded.
Inis knew she was right. They were never going to get out of Alexandria by plane.
A loud bang went off from up high and glass shattered. Inis was knocked over by the men wearing riot gear; they were called RAID and were known for their removal of crime and their aid to the innocent. Still, more guns went off. Loud, high powered machine guns lit up the airport which was now darkly lit, the sun had set.
Inis and his family ran for dear life. He didn’t even know which way to go, or which way he had come from. Still, he ran on and watched as others scrambled over one another, trying to get out of harm’s way.
“The Phantoms are here!” Inis heard a voice cry out. He didn’t know if it was his mother or aunt, he didn’t know his up from down, but he knew what the Phantoms were capable of. He had seen their work for himself and he wasn’t going to let that happen to his family. “This way,” he told the group, directing them around a baggage claim and up an escalator that was out of service. He saw three Phantoms running down the right escalators to his right chasing two teenage boys. One Phantom dove downward and caught the slowest from behind, catapulting into the other boy. The two Phantoms feasted on the boys, mid escalator, until they reached the bottom. Blood sprayed the glass and the floor. There were no screams, the two were dead. The third Phantom looked to the Rosales family and bared his teeth. Inis felt his feet double time up the un-moving steps and heard the last Phantom come for them. He grabbed his little cousin and high-tailed down the spacious corridor. He knew his family was right behind him. Inis was looking for a room with a lock; a shelter tucked away, a door that could be barred from inside, anything. All Inis saw were open food courts, empty waiting rooms with no doors, and open foyers too exposed for his family.
The Phantom chased them still. Up ahead Inis saw a group of Phantoms attacking employees, he dashed over into console D, and screamed for his family to catch up. Inis looked behind and saw more Phantoms on their tail. His heart raced a mile a minute. Fae screamed for him to duck into the employee door up ahead. He saw the cream-colored door up ahead and pushed through it but there was no lock. Inside the small hallway were two entrances. One big opening with thick plastics strips used for an entrance and a smaller door with the words ‘Custodian’ painted in yellow.
The sounds of heavy feet hitting the floor followed as soon as the Rosales family crashed into the custodian room. Inis locked the door and Fae began to push a heavy locker towards it.
“Inis, I need your help,” her voice was strained. Quickly, Inis pushed the locker in front of the door. The locker was four by four, bulky enough to keep the Phantoms out but not tall enough to cover the small glass window on top of the door. Fae felt the room shake as Phantoms pushed against the weight of the door and lockers. She saw through the glass a hideous sight. The Phantoms were tall, abnormally tall with thick muscles and huge bodies. Their skin was dark shades of purples, greens, and blues and they all had these gruesome veins lining their face and neck. Their teeth were the deadliest, rows and rows of sharp teeth that crunched through bones. Fae couldn’t see their lower bodies, but she knew that they had these nails, sharp and deadly. If they survived through the night, she would have nightmares forever.
Chapter 9:
A Deadly Cycle
The morning came like any other day. Inis woke to a banging sound. He jumped to his feet and pushed his body back up against the locker. All through the night he slept with his back pressed just in case any Phantoms came back for them. He heard the door knob rattle and a voice come through the walls.
“Anybody in there? I have to get to work.”
Inis heart skipped a beat. The voice sounded normal. He climbed the locker and snuck a glance out the top window. Two men in uniform stood outside the door checking their watches.
“Mami, Mami, get up and help me wit
h this thing,” Inis shook his mother awake. Together they pushed the heavy lockers back against the far wall and opened the door. They were both relieved when the men poked their heads in as if they were scared of the family.
“Everyone good in here?” asked one of the men.
“Yeah, what time is it?” Inis asked.
“About five in the morning,” the one replied.
“There was an attack here last night. You guys still have to come into work?”
The two custodians looked at one another. “There is an attack here every night.”
“What? When we walked in here yesterday morning the place was looking normal. Did you not see the glass and blood everywhere when you walked in just now?” Inis asked in a shocked voice.
The older custodian nodded his head and said, “Let me show you something.” Leading the family back out into the main area of the airport, the custodian showed them the wreckage.
The airport was still standing sure enough. There were dozens of cleaning crews mopping the blood from the floor. They were draining the fountains of water that had blood and debris. Huge panels of glass were being replaced and the broken shards were swept away from the previous night. Closed signs on restaurant doors now read open. Seats were being stitched up and polished for the people who were to be waiting hours and hours for the new day. Inis saw the signs announcing the departure of planes being switched back and forth. Everything was being started over again from scratch.
“Every day this happens. They can’t stop the Phantoms from coming in, nor can they stop the people from trying to get out,” explained the custodian. “Catch you later young buck.” The two custodians went back into the employee door, leaving Inis with his thoughts.
“Now can we leave this death trap!” screamed Aunt Prissy.
Chapter 10:
Seniors
The Upper East Side of Alexandria was nestled between the piers of the sea and near the bottom of the north. It was all class, or so the people on the Upper East Side tried to imitate their neighbors in the north. Streets were lined with storefronts, apartments and condos, and in-laws on the bottom. The east side was shut down for sure, no transportation going in, most businesses were closed down and the hospitals were rejecting everyone. But they still had some electricity and gas in parts of the neighborhood, so the people were not as bad off as the south side.
On the corner of Chess St. and Prudence square was a storefront called Seniors. The several rows of the established pier were the backdrop of the storefront– being on that corner was real estate gold. Tourist flocked to Seniors, which was a deli, bakery, and corner store rolled in one. There were no more tourists though, only the people who lived in the neighborhood still came to Seniors. It was the only place still selling food and water in the immediate area. People came from all over east Alexandria to Seniors, and stood in long lines that didn’t dwindle until nightfall.
Santino sat outside of Seniors in the patio section in broad day light. The snow swirled around him as he sat looking out into the crowd of gloomy faces. The line to Seniors had wrapped around the block. Business was booming for Paxton, the owner of Seniors and one of Santino’s Phantoms.
Santino had turned Paxton into a Phantom on national television. However, people hadn’t connected the dots and didn’t realize that the store was being run by Phantoms; they only knew that there was a Phantom man standing by the door making sure that no one stole anything. They seemed to be scared at best, but still came in hordes for the necessities.
At first, Santino was hesitant about making new Phantoms; but ever since Kurma, his ex-girlfriend, had killed one of his creations and threatened to kill more Phantoms, Santino knew he had to make more in order to survive. Not only were the police trying to kill him and his underlings, but so was Kurma, his enemy. He always knew when she killed his Phantoms because unlike the police whose bullets never penetrated the Phantoms, Kurma had daggers that could tear through their skin. Santino had found that in order to kill a Phantom one would have to stab it in the back or shoot it in the back. The front of a Phantom could not be penetrated by a bullet or knife, unless a Raptor was behind it. Kurma was a Raptor and she had Raptor friends who ate Phantoms, his Phantoms. Santino didn’t like it at all.
Santino sat in the cold. The air did nothing to him. He had on loose clothes and no hat on his head, exposing his baldness. All the hair fell out of a Phantom’s head when it transmuted from being a human. Even though Santino was eighteen, he looked like he could be in his early thirties. His features were dark, like any other Phantom. His skin had the noticeable dark veins running up his body and face. Santino’s nose was pinched tight and his ears were pinned back, giving his face an instant lift. He was six-three before becoming a Phantom and had grown since then, he was at least seven feet tall now and very massive. He would have towered over the people in line if he had stood up, even still when he was sitting down.
The people stared at Santino; there were no kids around and Santino figured they wanted to keep their children out of harm’s way. Santino couldn’t blame them. He thought of his mom and siblings all the time. He had made a lot of money from the storefront in the weeks of being a Phantom and planned to send his mom the money, hoping that she would make it out of Alexandria alive. He couldn’t see her though. He was dangerous and more importantly, contagious. Whatever was in his hands could be transferred, easy and quick; before you could turn away, Phantasm would have spread. And so it had, all over the city.
“Paxton wants to see you!” screamed VIN from the front of the store. People moved from VIN in one smooth motion, clearing a way for even his voice. He didn’t seem bothered.
Santino rose from his seat, entered the building, and went to the back where Paxton, the butcher, stood in a huge refrigerator with a blood-stained apron on. “What’s going on my man?”
Paxton was a slimmer version of a Phantom. He was the oldest out of everyone and seemed to be hit the worst with the characteristics of Phantasm. His face was covered in the dark colored veins and his eyes were rimmed in black. But, he couldn’t hear as good as the younger Phantoms and definitely wasn’t as strong as Santino. “We are running out of meat.”
“Meat-meat, or you know, flesh meat?” asked Santino.
“No, we can get plenty of flesh meat,” Paxton said as he scratched his head and looked around his refrigerator. “I’m talking about turkey, salami, chicken, roast beef, the meat that brings in the customers. It’s gone and there isn’t any place that I can just re-up and order some more.”
Santino knew what he was talking about. Most of the city was on lock down. There was no trade coming in, no supplies, and no re-ups. Nobody wanted to fly into Alexandria or drive into the city. “Forget the meat. People still need butter and bread and canned goods, right?” Santino knew that when starving, people ate anything. Having meat on the dinner table was a pleasure that the citizens would have to go without them
“Sales will go down.”
Santino responded, “So what, the money will still come. My mother is getting out of Alexandria if it is the last thing I do.”
“Why don’t you just send her down the coast, over the border?” asked Paxton.
“That’s a whole different area, a different culture; she wouldn’t be able to make it by herself with the kids.”
“The tickets would be way less expensive though. Take the rest of the money and buy her a house.”
“Hopeful wishing Paxton. Unlike you, I’ve never owned by own business, I wasn’t a self-made man. I can’t just go buying houses left and right,” Santino said.
The two walked around dangling frozen bodies and slabs of meat out of the refrigerator.
“Have you talked to Allie recently?” asked Paxton as they came from the back.
“I saw him a bit yesterday, but he stays to himself upstairs and doesn’t come down until it’s time to eat.”
Paxton stopped walking and became serious. “My son said that he heard him cr
ying in his room. Every time we see him he is either drunk or depressed somewhere, sulking in a corner.” Paxton was a father and knew the signs of an unhappy child. “Talk to him, Santino. Help him get through this thing that we are.” Paxton walked away and turned to go up to the apartment rooms that were above the storefront.
Santino had talked to Allie over and over again. Allie was Kurma’s youngest brother, he had a twin but Santino had forgotten his name. Santino knew that Allie had taken it the worst, even worse than Leon who had had a complete meltdown and gotten himself killed. Unlike Leon, Allie held it all in, and it seemed to be killing him.
Santino went outside to the back and entered the building again, this time from a side door that led up to the level that Santino, VIN, and Kosner stayed. The stairway was dark but Santino knew where he was going. Allie’s room was the last one at the end. The door was always closed and the room got the least amount of light. Allie said he liked it that way. Santino knocked gently and waited. There was movement in the room and then the door slid open.
Allie reluctantly let Santino in. He knew it was him because Santino was the only one who knocked to come in; everyone else just listened through the walls and yelled to see if he was still alive. Allie was alive, but barely holding on.
Allie was Kurma’s youngest brother who had a twin named Inis. He hadn’t seen Inis in a long time and hadn’t seen Kurma even longer. He felt abandoned; if anyone cared then why had no one found him yet. But, if he was being honest with himself, it would have probably been difficult to get a hold of him. He never went outside; he didn’t want anyone to see him. Allie stayed holed up in his room, drinking hard liquor, shunning the world. He didn’t know why he blamed Kurma or Inis for not finding him; he was just so angry, so down and out about his situation. He couldn’t help feeling miserable. He used to be a vivacious teenager, well, he still was a teenager, but now he didn’t play sports, wouldn’t dare get a girlfriend, and couldn’t do normal teenage things. And they wondered why he was always depressed.
“Man, you have got to snap out of this,” Santino said as he glanced around the room. It was neat and orderly to his surprise. “Why do I keep hearing that you have been crying?”