Edgar doesn’t move. “No,” he says firmly. He’s about the same size as Dorian. Big.
“What right do you have to take things from him?” I join in. I don’t like this guy’s energy—his negative vibe is about to barrel me over.
“As head of security, I can’t allow weapons inside my airport.”
“What airport?” I taunt him a bit. Not the smartest thing to do, but it’s who I am.
Masaru turns his head like an owl—all the way around. “No airport here.” His English is good but not perfect.
Dorian steps up face to face with Edgar. “No weapons inside the shelter. You can leave them here if you like.”
“I’m keeping the ax,” Edgar insists.
I throw in my support, “What if he gets trapped under falling debris? It could save his life.”
“Or yours,” Elsie says, jabbing Dorian’s chest. Her finger must be six inches long.
Dorian’s nostrils flare and his left eye has a slight twitch. He’s irritated with our tribe of misfits. “Fine. Keep the ax.” He turns and heads toward a large hole, which appears to be the entrance to the shelter. It’s where I last saw Lena.
His five gunmen follow behind us. I feel more like a prisoner than a survivor.
***
Dorian takes us to an area of the terminal not too far from the escalator that leads to The Cantina. Miraculously, the place has made it through the rest of the plane crashes and explosions. Water drips from the ceiling so it must have been submerged in the tidal wave.
Right away, I spot two groups of people that are noticeably separated. One group at the opposite end has maybe a hundred people and the other group has about a dozen. Everyone is bloody and battered. It’s unfathomable this many people survived. From what we saw, it didn’t seem possible.
We pass by the smaller group of people, who are the farthest away from everything else. An inadequate fire struggles to keep them warm with nothing more than hot coals.
“They are the sick ones. They’ve been quarantined,” Dorian says as we walk by them.
A mother holds her sick infant and cries. Fear shadows her face and creates a sharp pain in my side.
We walk on slowly. An old man with white hair sounds as though he is about to cough up a lung—that annoying deep cough he’ll never be able to satisfy.
The rest are just scattered around. Most of them are pale. None of them look as though they’ll live into next week.
Further on, central command consists of an area about a hundred feet long and thirty feet wide where the danger of the roof collapsing has dissipated—it’s already gone. A large mound of snow at one end, with food and beverage items buried deep within, marks the main control station.
Beyond there, is the large group of people we saw when we first came in. Most of them sit around a blazing bonfire. Some play cards. Others talk in small groups. A few sleep. A person could keep warm there for the night at least.
“If you come across any food on your shift, put it there,” Dorian interrupts my gawking to point out the snow fridge.
What shift?
“Each member of the shelter will spend two hours a day searching the grounds for anything that might be useful.”
That’s fine. I’ll probably spend more than two hours doing that. I’m definitely not going to just sit around here.
“What’s your plan?” Ben steps forward and asks Dorian directly.
Dorian turns to face the rest of us. “My plan is to survive.”
“We have survived.” Ben is sharp. “What are all of these people planning to do? We can’t just stay here.”
“There’s nowhere else to go, kid. Didn’t you see the Atlantic Ocean out there when you came in?” The smile that comes out shouldn’t be classified as a smile, but more of a slimy expression to hammer a nail into someone.
“My name is Benjamin.” He is assertive and does not look away from Dorian’s cold stare.
“We can go west up into the mountains. There have to be more survivors,” I suggest. I’ll do anything outside of staying here in this airport. To do what? Live?
Dorian laughs. “How are you planning to get there? That little kayak?” His expression makes it known to everyone that he doesn’t take Ben or me seriously.
“How are your supplies?” Elsie joins in the questioning.
He points to the snow fridge. “That’s the food we have. We were able to save most of it from the freezer of The Cantina. It’s being rationed.”
So, now he controls the food supply? Better keep what’s left of the beef jerky and trail mix hidden.
Then I see her—the annoying stewardess. She sits at a table stacked with first aid kits, walkie-talkies, a couple of fire extinguishers, several prescription med bottles and some other miscellaneous items.
“Come on over here. Let me get your names.” She waves us toward her and then recognizes Ben. “Benjamin, glad you made it through safely.” She looks at the rest of us and takes a clipboard from the desk.
Handing it to Masaru, she barks out orders, “Write your name down on this sheet. Then step over there to Marshal. He’ll take your temperature. When he’s done, take your place in the group.”
Marshal waves and smiles. “Don’t worry, I won’t bite.”
“Sick people go down there,” she says pointing to the death camp we’d seen before.
She continues with her spiel, “If you find any of the items on this table when you are searching, bring them here. They need to be checked in. There’s actually a full list, I’ll show you in a minute.”
Ben isn’t about to turn over the walkie-talkies we found. They will come in handy here for sure, at least until their batteries die. Both of them were fully charged, and we haven’t been using them. Hopefully, they’ll last us a day or two until we can get out of here.
Just then Marshal yells, “We’ve got another one.”
What? He’s pointing to Masaru.
“Sir,” the stewardess calls to Masaru. “You’ll have to join the others at that end.”
“No!” I yell at her. “He’s with us.”
“But sick people can’t contaminate the rest of the survivors. He has to go down there.”
“No. The five of us will just sit somewhere else.” I grab the clipboard from her and scribble down ‘Renegades’ next to all of our names.
One of the gunmen steps up behind the stewardess. “Is there a problem?”
She looks me straight in the eyes. Great, now they’re going to haul me off somewhere in exile. “No, there’s no problem,” she says.
The gunman steps back into his guard position. I don’t understand what makes them think they need armed guards. Haven’t we all just gone through the same horrible experience?
“You five can go sit over there.” She points to a spot across from her, halfway between the ice fridge and the fire.
“Great, thanks.” I usher Elsie and Edgar toward our temporary home while Ben fetches Masaru.
As soon as Dorian sees that we have not taken our places within the appropriate groups, he approaches the stewardess. They whisper for a minute, and then here he comes.
His shiny black shoes aren’t so shiny anymore, now trashed with scuff marks. “We’re not going to have a problem with you guys are we?” he asks, looking sternly to me, before he eyes the rest of the group.
“Nope, no problem, but we’d like to take those shifts now,” I say with as little attitude as I can manage. I need to get away from this man as soon as humanly possible.
Ben jumps at the opportunity. “Me, too.”
“I’ll stay here with Masaru,” Edgar agrees. Good, I don’t want any of us left alone.
Elsie hands her trunk to Edgar. “Will you watch over this for me?”
“You know it.” He takes it from her and sets it down between him and Masaru. He lays his ax on top of it and winks at her.
“Me, three,” she says and joins us next to Dorian.
“You three check out walkie-talkies from Fran. Only use t
hem if you need to separate. We’re trying to conserve the batteries.”
Who’s Fran?
The stewardess waves us back over to the table where we checked in. That’s Fran.
“Now, only use them if you absolutely must,” she repeats, handing us each a duffle bag. They are all pink with white polka dots. I remember them from one of the shops in the airport. “For every five items you find, you may keep one unless it’s one of the items on this list.” She holds up the clipboard and points to the list. I don’t really pay attention because I will keep whatever I want. “Okay, off you go. Be back in precisely two hours so we can account for you.” Dorian has trained her well in a short amount of time.
The three of us walk outside and I feel like I just broke out of prison.
“That was interesting,” Elsie says.
The first thing I want to see is if Edgar’s rifle is still in the kayak. That will tell us if we can trust Dorian for his word.
Not only is the rifle not there, the kayak is gone.
Chapter 4
We decide to deal with Dorian later and head toward the northeastern end of the airport where the C concourse is—or was. Counting on human nature to be predictable, we think it’s probably the least-chartered territory for search shifts since it’s the farthest away. The good stuff we find, we’ll hide somewhere there for the same reason.
“So Elsie, what do you do with all those things in your trunk?” I ask.
“Magic.” She smiles and bats her eyelashes.
“Were those darts I saw?”
“Yep.”
“Good,” I say truthfully. “I think we may need them.”
“I’m right with you, dear.”
Ben picks up an umbrella and presses a button on the handle. The umbrella springs wide open. “Perfect.” He smiles at me and tosses it into his duffle bag.
When we make it to the outside of the C gates, we see an ambulance turned over on its side. “I’ll check that out,” Elsie volunteers and scuttles off. Medicine was first on Fran’s list—I did notice that one.
Ben tinkers with one of the luggage carts, but I can’t imagine it will start after being submerged and battered around.
I walk out toward the runway to a plane that has its inflatable slide extended. I think I can climb up the slide and get into the plane.
Holding onto the side of the raft, I pull myself up. The first time I try, I lose my grip and roll backwards to the bottom. The momentum causes me to flop out of the raft and hit my head on the ground. I wipe my temple, and my hand is smeared with blood.
I try to climb the slide again, and this time, make it to the top so I can get inside. The beverage cart is wedged securely in its space. Perfect timing, I’m dying from thirst from the long walk in the dry air.
The cart is loaded with soda, juice, beer and water. I shove the cans into my bag as fast as I can, but when I go to lift it, it’s too heavy and I have no room for anything else. I take several of the cans out and replace them in the cart before I push it down the aisle to the doorway.
Laying it down on its side, I laugh at what I’m about to do. One small push and it’s going down the slide. A few sodas roll out onto the ground, but overall, it worked pretty well.
Digging through the station behind the cockpit, I find a large plastic sack full of small bags of peanuts. These will make Dorian happy. We’ll turn in half of them.
I return to the rear of the plane. There’s more random stuff in the galley. I find a mini screwdriver set and immediately think of Ben. I tuck it into an inside pocket on my coat. The snack cart is full of cookies, crackers, pretzels and dried fruit. I scarf down a pack of cheddar crackers and shove everything else inside the bag.
Rummaging around the rest of the plane, I find a couple of first aid kits, a fire extinguisher and a bunch of mini liquor bottles. Everything else was pretty much washed away.
I jump a foot in the air when I hear something come from the lavatory. Someone is on the plane!
The door opens, and it’s the girl with pink hair and piercings on her face. The one that wasn’t allowed to go to the bathroom. My presence startles her and she screams.
“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” I say quickly.
“What are you doing here?” she asks. I can tell she’s annoyed I’ve invaded her space.
“What are you doing here? Why aren’t you inside with the others?”
She looks around for the missing items I have stolen. “Where’s the soda cart?” She ignores my questions. Fair, I ignored hers.
“I didn’t know anyone was here. I pushed it down the slide.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Does Dorian know you’re out here?” I ask.
“Dorian?”
“You know, the leader…inside.” I roll my eyes. This must break the tension because she opens up.
“Oh, that guy. He’s why I came out here. They wouldn’t give me food. They wouldn’t let me go to the bathroom. I didn’t see any benefit of staying in there.”
“Can’t say I disagree with you. What’s your name?”
“Janie, what’s yours?”
“Claudia. Nice to meet you and sorry about your drinks…and your food,” I pull some of the peanuts and crackers out of my bag and return them to her.
“It’s okay. I’m about to come out of here anyway. As soon as I think I can make it to Denver.”
“That’s where we’re hoping to go, too. Want to come inside with us until we can leave?”
“Nah, I think I’ll stay out here.” She smiles. “But would you mind coming back to see if I’m still here when you leave for Denver?”
“Of course. I have to go back now though, my friends are inside.”
“Thanks,” she says as I situate myself on the edge of the escape raft.
When I slide down, I don’t see Ben or Elsie, so I browse around the grounds nearby for anything else that we might need. After a few minutes, Ben drives a luggage cart out from behind a pile of broken concrete. Elsie rides on the back. He actually got the thing running. He smiles from ear to ear and waves at me.
They pull up and Elsie hops off the back. Her duffle bag is stuffed full.
“We’re about out of time. We should sort through what we want to take back and what we want to hide for a rainy day,” she says, pointing to her bag.
We remove enough broken blocks of concrete to create a small, two-foot wide hole where we can stash things. She puts half the medical supplies in the hole and leaves the rest in the bag to take to the group. We also stash some of the juice and snacks, and two of the first aid kits. We give a few items to Ben since he spent all his time working on the cart.
Before she puts the medical kit inside the hideaway, she takes out a large band aid and an antiseptic wipe. “Come here, dear. Let me clean you up,” she says, pushing the hair away from the wound on my head.
“Thank you, Elsie.”
“Even us tough girls need a little TLC now and then,” she says with a wink.
Funny, ‘tough girl’ isn’t how I would usually describe a short, old lady, but I can see it in her.
She finishes with my head, and I remember the screwdriver set. “Oh, I almost forgot. I found something for you, Ben.”
His face lights up. “A present for me?”
I pull the mini screwdriver set out of my coat and hand it to him.
It’s like Christmas. “These are so perfect! Thank you, Claudia.” After he gives me a hug, he tucks the screwdrivers away inside his lime green pack that has been hidden beneath his coat since we first returned to the airport.
“I met a girl,” I tell them. “Janie—she’s hiding away over there.” I point to the plane I had scavenged. “Ben, remember that girl with pink hair at the airport?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s her.”
“Why didn’t she come with you?”
“She doesn’t like Dorian and his rules, and she doesn’t have any friends inside.”
; Elsie zips up her duffle bag. “I don’t blame her.”
“What about the cart? Should we let them know we have it?” I ask Ben. It’s his prize possession and would win huge points with Dorian. But, do we care about that?
Elsie shakes her head to disagree. “It makes it easier for them to get up this way. The more people that come here, the more likely they’ll find our stash.”
“Let’s leave it here.”
Elsie and I nod. It may be our only ride west. We already lost the kayak.
***
When we return, Dorian is outside waiting for us with two of his gunmen. Good thing we did all of our shuffling at the other end of the airport.
“We’ll take the duffle bags,” he says, nodding his gunmen to grab the supplies.
“See Fran when you get inside. She’ll check you in.”
Now, it’s time to handle Dorian. “Where’s the kayak…and the other stuff we had when we got here?”
He steps closer, so close I can smell his breath. Beer?
“We have to survive here.” He stares down his nose at me like a drill sergeant. “Everything goes into the community…for the good of all.”
“Maybe I-”
Ben jumps in, “We.” He nods me on to continue.
“Maybe we don’t think you having Edgar’s rifle and our kayak is for the good of all.” I’m pissed now. Elsie steps up and crosses her arms.
The two gunmen mirror her, stepping forward, aligning with Dorian. “Have you met Finch and Tobias?”
“You do know there’s still another world out there, right? There are other people alive besides the people in this airport. Society will come together again,” I threaten.
“Are you so sure about that? This is one of the largest airports in America—don’t you think they would have sent someone to save us by now?” he mocked me.
“Well, what are you planning to do? Live here at DIA forever? You’re running out of food…medicine,” Elsie chimes in.
“That’s why we have Plan X.” He turns and walks away with no care to listen to another word. Tobias puts his gun in my back to push me along. It hits right on one of my vertebra, which is sure to leave a huge bruise.
***
Before we return to central command, Dorian calls his dogs off and the guns are lowered. I’m sure he doesn’t want to cause a scene.
The Dark Days: Dorian Lennox - Episode 2 Page 2