Necrose Apocalypse [The Complete Collection]

by Tim Moon

  "He was almost my height. I can't recall his features very well, but he was pale with dark eyes. Oh, and he was wearing a puffy orange jacket. Hunter's orange. You really can't miss him."

  "Alright, I'll take it from here. You have a good flight," the officer said, with a nod.

  He flipped his notepad closed, tapped the cover with his pen and stood up. Gavin heard him mumble a coded but unintelligible message to the dispatcher.

  Rick walked away, picking up a plastic bin next to the metal tables for his items so he could slide them into the X-ray machine.

  It was a brief moment of intrigue, but at least it would give him something to chat about in the break room. More than mere gossip, this was a matter of awareness. Knowing ahead of time that they might have to deal with a rowdy passenger was useful.

  Not such a boring night, after all, he thought.

  67

  FLASHING LIGHTS GLINTED through the windows from outside the airport.

  A large white ambulance had pulled up to the curb and two people jumped out. In moments, they had extracted a gurney from the vehicle and begun to push it inside. It clattered over every bump.

  An ambulance at the airport wasn't entirely unusual. Sometimes elderly passengers needed assistance or someone slipped on the marble floor or whatever. Seeing it made Gavin wonder if it had something to do with the man in the orange jacket that Rick had reported. Sick or possibly drunk, he'd said.

  Patrick came up behind Gavin.

  "What's going on with this?" said Gavin. He gestured toward the front of the airport where the lights continued flashing.

  Patrick was a funny guy, especially for a Behavior Detection Officer. They tended to be serious, which according to the rumor was on their management's orders. Despite that, he still came to work with a seemingly endless list of perfectly prepared quips.

  Patrick turned and caught Gavin's eye. Right away Gavin knew that something was wrong.

  "What?" said Gavin.

  "An old man died in the bathroom at the end of C concourse," said Patrick.

  "What?"

  "Yeah, dead. Lots of blood."

  Patrick let out a breath, cleared his throat and continued, "A passenger came and told me about it and...I checked it out and reported it."

  "Oh wow," said Gavin. They'd never had a serious incident before, or at least not to Gavin's knowledge. Sometimes an elderly passenger required medical attention but nothing this dramatic.

  Gavin felt like Patrick was holding something back; few people used the bathrooms at the end of the concourse. Most passengers stopped at the restroom right behind the security checkpoint.

  "Are you okay?" Gavin asked.

  Patrick nodded slowly.

  "What happened to the old man?"

  Patrick didn't respond. His eyes had focused a million miles away.

  "Was it a guy in an orange jacket?" asked Gavin.

  Patrick's shook his head and looked at Gavin. "You heard about him?"

  Gavin nodded.

  "I was here when the flight crew reported it to the cop." Gavin gestured toward the officer's podium with his thumb. "He hasn't come back yet. Is this related to that?"

  "Doubt it," Patrick said. "The guy downstairs has been taken away already. Typical drunk, that’s all I heard."

  As if on cue, the police officer ran up the escalator and met the two paramedics who were waiting near the exit lane to enter the concourse. The officer looked out of breath and slightly frazzled.

  Gavin smirked. Normally they sat around looking bored, but now the police officer's face was flushed red, as he ran around dealing with the disturbances.

  "So what are you doing?"

  "I was supposed to write up a statement," said Patrick. "But apparently the officer wants to talk to me first."

  "Is the passenger who found him still around?"

  "Yeah, he's sitting at the gate. His flight doesn't leave for a while. The cop will talk with him too, for sure."

  A passenger strolled up and stuck out his ticket and I.D. Gavin checked it all and handed the documents back.

  "Luckily it's not busy, so you'll have all the time you need," said Gavin.

  "I suppose so." Patrick glanced around. "I should probably go with them." He gestured lazily toward the paramedics and the police officer, as if he didn’t really want to go.

  Gavin nodded and tapped his pen on the podium like a gavel.

  "See ya," Patrick said as he walked away.

  "You too. Keep your head on a swivel,” he said.

  Gavin leaned back and glanced at his watch. Thankfully, it was almost time to rotate; his least favorite task was checking tickets.

  68

  GAVIN LOOKED UP from his food. Lunch break, or dinner break considering the time of night, was his favorite time at work. It was his time for relaxation, away from the noise of the checkpoint.

  He sat across from his friend Emily, at a small round table in the tiny employee break room, next to the checkpoint. The door lock beeped as someone out in the hall swiped their badge to enter. Patrick walked in. His face was pale and he looked distraught.

  Glancing at his watch, Gavin saw that it had been nearly forty minutes since he'd seen him last.

  "You okay?" Gavin asked Patrick for the second time that evening.

  Emily looked over the rims of her glasses at Patrick but kept on knitting. She was making a “woodland scarf” for her granddaughter, whatever that meant. The colors she had picked were awful, but no one had the heart to tell her that it looked like someone had vomited into a puddle of diarrhea.

  Patrick muttered to himself. He shook his head as he opened the fridge to grab his food. He tucked a small insulated box under his arm, walked over and grabbed his puffy down-filled winter jacket off of the coat rack.

  "Where are you going?" Gavin said. Patrick looked sick, but he wasn't the kind of employee to head home.

  Patrick glanced at Gavin, looking at him like he'd only just realized that he was there. His mouth opened slowly.

  The door beeped again and then swung open wide. It was Mac.

  "Break time, bitches," he boomed with a huge grin on his round face. Then he noticed everyone was looking at Patrick. The door slammed shut behind him.

  Patrick flinched.

  Mac looked at Patrick, glanced at Gavin, then back at Patrick.

  Silence.

  Mac took a step forward.

  "What the fuck is wrong with you, man? You sick?" Mac patted Patrick on the shoulder.

  Patrick's face flushed and he glared at Mac.

  "I just saw a dead guy attack the medic."

  His voice was tight, barely above a whisper. Patrick's eyes glistened.

  Gavin wasn't sure he'd heard it right.

  "What do you mean?" Gavin said.

  Patrick whirled to face Gavin. "I mean he grabbed the guy by the head and bit his face. He tore the medic's nose right off."

  Emily gasped. Mac looked shocked but seemed to think that Patrick was playing a joke.

  Mac started laughing. "Right. Yeah, the guy totally bit his nose off. Good one."

  Patrick glared at him.

  "Seriously?" Gavin said dumbly, still surprised by the news. He felt the urge to get up and go check for himself.

  "Yes, seriously." Patrick seemed to grow more animated the more he talked. He scowled at the group then threw up his free hand, grunting in exasperation; he yanked the door open and stormed out, bumping Mac roughly with his shoulder.

  "What's up with him?" Mac said, still laughing. He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

  "I don't think he was joking, Mac. Didn't you see his eyes?" Emily looked exasperated.

  "You know how Patrick usually is," said Gavin. "He was obviously upset."

  Mac shrugged. "He'll get over it."

  "Dude, c'mon. Don't be a dick."

  "He saw a guy get bit. Big deal." Mac waved his hand like he was shooing away a fly.

  Gavin couldn't believe he was downplaying it so muc
h.

  "Some people are bothered by stuff like that," said Emily. "You could be more sensitive."

  Mac shrugged again.

  "Some people are weak," he said as he ducked down to look into the fridge, searching for his food.

  Emily's mouth dropped open. She snorted at his complete disregard for Patrick. She picked up her knitting and left the room.

  The door slammed shut behind her. Mac peeked up and then ducked back into the fridge.

  "We still going to the movie tomorrow?" he said. His voice muffled by the open door.

  For a moment, Gavin wondered if the assault would change any of the screening procedures, but no particular reason came to mind.

  "Hey, space cadet." Mac snapped his fingers in front of Gavin's face. He sat down with a thump and began to eat something resembling pizza. It was so greasy that Gavin couldn't see how it was edible.

  "What?"

  "You're still up for seeing a movie right?"

  "Sure. How about we hit Moose's Tooth, so you can get some real pizza. That shit looks rank." Gavin's nose crinkled in disgust.

  "Not as rank as your mom."

  "C'mon, man." Gavin scowled. "No mom jokes."

  Mac grunted. "Right."

  Gavin glanced at his watch. His dinner break was almost over. As long as no passengers stopped to question him, he would have enough time to go to the bathroom before heading back to work.

  "See ya on the floor," said Gavin.

  "The name of your sex tape," Mac said with a smirk.

  Gavin flipped him off and walked out of the room.

  69

  A BAG SCROLLED onto the X-ray monitor in front of Gavin and an item in the bag caught his eye. He stopped the conveyor belt and inspected it closely.

  His eyes blurred, so he blinked a few times to clear them. Staring at the screen for so long was tedious and tiring.

  Thankfully, the item turned out to be nothing, so he cleared the bag and pressed a button on his console to restart the conveyor moving the bag out to the passenger.

  A scream startled him. He jabbed the stop button and leaned around the monitor, banging his knee on the X-ray machine's control panel.

  "Sonuvabitch." He rubbed his knee to ease the pain and looked up.

  "Step back," yelled Kelly. She was trying to back away from a male passenger walking toward her, grasping at her arm. She must have been out in the queue, helping passengers, when the man had walked up to her.

  Other passengers looked on warily, unsure what to do or unwilling to step in. Several of them shuffled closer to the checkpoint, away from Kelly and the man, shrinking back to avoid becoming involved.

  Gavin turned to make sure that Riley, the supervisor was seeing this. She was.

  Riley was manning the starship. She was a short Hispanic woman with long dark hair, pulled up into a regulation-approved bun. It gave her a severe look in sharp contrast to her kind personality. She stood with a phone in her hand, talking rapidly. He figured she was probably reporting the incident to the manager, or calling the airport police dispatcher.

  The police officer assigned to the checkpoint was nowhere in sight. Right when they needed him.

  Classic, Gavin thought.

  He turned back toward Kelly. She was still slowly backing away from the man.

  John stood beside Gavin gaping at the scene. He wrung his blue-gloved hands nervously in front of him.

  "I...um..." he stuttered.

  Another man stepped toward Kelly.

  "Take the X-ray," said Gavin. With a few quick strokes on the keyboard, he logged out and pushed John into the seat.

  One of the two men was a skinny guy in a nice jacket, splattered with blood. He looked like a Native Alaskan. The other man had a thick brown beard and a beanie pulled low on his forehead in typical Alaskan fashion. His coveralls were dirty and one of his hands was twisted and gnarled like an old tree, as if smashed by a door a few times. The skin on it was mottled black and one finger dangled loosely at an odd angle. Bloody streaks marred his otherwise neatly trimmed beard.

  "My God," John said.

  Gavin looked around for Mac, but he was out of sight. Gavin took a deep breath and started forward.

  Kelly yelled for the supervisor. "Help! Supervisor!"

  "Stop screening," said Riley, loud enough for everyone to hear. It was a pointless command because everyone had already stopped, but it was necessary for the record. Riley had to cover her ass.

  Gavin walked around the end of the X-ray machine and slid over the table that passengers would normally use to sort their items into the short gray buckets for screening. Then he jogged down the flight crew lane, to avoid weaving through the passenger queue and intercepted the two men. His security badge and I.D. swung up from where it was clipped onto his shoulder board and smacked him in the chin, as he ran.

  Gavin looked at the two men and his flesh tingled. Neither man looked well. Their faces were like masks; a terrible combination of grayish pallor and eyes so dark it was as if their pupils had engulfed the rest of the eyeball like a black hole.

  "Hey!" Gavin raised his voice loud to get the two men's attention. "Back away from the officer."

  He wasn't sure management would back him up on this but he wasn't going to stand by stupidly and let Kelly get assaulted, even if she was a bitch. She was an officer like him and they had to stand together. If they didn't watch each other's backs, who would?

  He'd accept the consequences.

  Kelly stopped at the sound of his command and turned slightly to look at Gavin. The men shambled on after her.

  Her eyes caught his. Then they widened; as wide as a pair of dinner plates.

  Her lips twisted into pained disbelief. Tears sprang into her eyes; there was a crunch and an anguished moan escaped her throat.

  Gavin covered his mouth and cursed, as his gut wrenched.

  Brown Beard had snagged Kelly's arm by the wrist. Holding it tight, he'd pulled it to his mouth and bit through a pair of her fingers. Blood welled from between his lips and dripped down onto her arm. Kelly jerked back but he wasn't letting go. A little squirt of blood splashed onto the floor.

  Brown Beard shook his head trying to free the fingers from the tough tissue holding them desperately in place.

  Passengers yelled and milled about and he was vaguely aware of the supervisor yelling for a full lock-down. Everything in the background became faded, dull and muted as he focused on the problem before him.

  Gavin stepped up to wrap an arm around Kelly's waist. His arm only made it halfway around, but it was enough. He pivoted to her side and snapped a kick into the man's chest. It was a sloppy kick, but Kelly's blood proved lubrication enough for her hand to slip free. Brown Beard stumbled back and flopped down onto his butt. Suddenly he was a giant baby, sitting on the floor with his legs spread, gnawing on his favorite toy.

  The skinny man was on Gavin like an angry bee. Gavin stepped back as Skinny's weight fell against him. He planted his foot and pushed back hard. Skinny tripped on one of Brown Beard's legs, twisted in the air and slammed down, hitting his chin hard on the marble floor. Gavin could have sworn he saw a tooth skitter across the tiles.

  A pair of big guys, oil workers by the looks of them, stepped up beside Gavin.

  "We’ve got your back," said the shorter one. They flanked Gavin. Both men looked eager to help, if the two men stood up to attack again.

  Gavin nodded at them. His mouth was too dry to form words. Surprise at what he'd done was written plain on Gavin's face.

  He glanced behind him and saw Kelly clutching her hand to her chest. A lead officer called Teresa rushed over to help her. Teresa had put her arm around Kelly's shoulders and was escorting her through the checkpoint toward the supervisor's desk, probably for the first aid kit.

  Riley had her hand on her forehead and was talking frantically into the phone. If Riley had been hoping for a nice easy day, it had gone up in smoke as soon as the men had assaulted Kelly. She'd have to spend hours filling o
ut paperwork and collecting statements from all of the officers on the checkpoint. Gavin didn't envy that aspect of her job.

  There were no police officers in sight and if what Patrick said was true, the one Gavin had seen would be on his way to the hospital.

  He turned back towards the two men on the floor. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. His breath came quickly and his hands felt twitchy.

  Skinny turned his head slowly toward Gavin and his two new bodyguards. A growl rumbled in his chest.

  Gavin pounced.

  70

  WITH THE TWO men subdued, Gavin and the rest waited for the airport police to respond and to take them into custody.

  "The injured paramedic was taken to the hospital by the other officer. No one else can respond because, apparently, they're all busy," said Riley. Her nose scrunched as she looked at the two men on the floor. Blood was pooled beneath Brown Beard and Skinny was clacking his teeth. Sweat glistened on her brow. "Teresa and one of the managers are taking Kelly to the hospital."

  Gavin wasn't concerned about that. He knew someone would take care of Kelly.

  In the meantime, he was straddling Skinny, who lay face down on the floor with his hands behind his back, bound by plastic zip-ties from the airlines’ stock.

  After September 11th, 2001, the airlines kept the ties ready and available, in case they had to re-supply aircraft if they had had to detain passengers during a flight.

  Since Gavin was holding Skinny down, to prevent another attack, he couldn't stand up or go anywhere. Even with his grimy hands tied, Skinny could still bite. He'd already tried to get Gavin several times, although he’d noticed that Skinny never tried to bite Brown Beard.

  One of the two oil workers, Deacon, was straddling Brown Beard for the same reason. Deacon's friend George had been bitten on the thigh when the three of them had fought to subdue the two men. Thanks to his thick jeans and long johns, it was only a shallow bite, but it needed medical attention. There was no telling what the hell these guys were on.