The news of the lack of guards had undulated through the tent like cascading dominoes, the noise steadily increasing as more and more people turned and stared at the entrance. Talking to their new friends. What was going on? Where was the food? Were the soldiers on a break? Would they be back soon?
The noise had prompted Sam to emerge from his sleeping bag cocoon, and he hurried over to Lex and Claire. They sat together in silence, observing the growing anger, frustrations and fear that emanated throughout the camp.
By lunchtime, the tension was thick, almost tangible. Groups of friends joined with other groups, and factions formed, as struggles for leadership started in the individual groups and then spilt out, with each vying for overall dominance.
“It didn’t take long for it to get like Lord of the Flies in here,” Lex observed.
“What the fuck have hobbits and wizards got to do with anything?” Sam looked puzzled as he stared at Lex. Claire burst out laughing, earning angry stares from the closest group.
“Moron,” Lex said, rolling her eyes, a slight hint of a smile on her face. “Not Lord of the Rings.” She had gone on to explain the difference, but was interrupted as a fight broke out amongst two groups.
“I think it’s time to get out of here,” Claire interrupted. The rest of the camp watched the fight, giving them the opportunity to sneak out unseen.
Outside the tent, they viewed their surroundings. The terminal building was close by, and in the distance, across from where they stood, a faint fence line could be seen. Sam started to walk towards the terminal.
“Hang on a minute,” Lex called, Sam stopped and turned to face her, “maybe we should head over that way,” she pointed towards the runway.’
“Why?” Sam asked.
“Because, eventually, the people in there,” Lex nodded her head towards the tent, “are going to come out and they are going to head straight for the terminal building.”
Sam, saw the logic in the suggestion. Yet it looked so far away, and the terminal was right here. Stubbornness set in, and he resolutely refused to agree with Lex. After much debate between the two, Claire made the decision for them and started walking towards the terminal.
“I’m hungry,” she called out, leaving the other two no choice but to follow her, Lex, scowling, Sam, smiling.
It was eerily quiet inside the terminal. Their footsteps echoed through the big empty building, which looked as though it had been hastily evacuated. Suitcases and bags lay scattered across the floor, half-eaten meals sat rotting on tables in restaurants, and boarding passes lay casually discarded.
Lex was keen to get out of the airport as soon as possible, but Claire insisted that they find food first. They walked through an empty restaurant and found the kitchen. Opening fridges and storage cupboards, they found plenty of food. They picked up tins of beans, slices of ham and a loaf of bread. Back in the bar area, they took some bottles of water from the fridge. Choosing one of the few clean tables, they ate their meal in silence.
“Sam, have you got a car?” Claire asked when they had finished eating.
“I have,” Sam replied, a note of pride in his voice, “I’ve got a Ford Fiesta.”
“Great, have you got the keys?”
“Yeah,’ Sam said. Digging them out of his pocket, he dangled them in front of Claire’s nose.
“Good, I wouldn’t have wanted to go back into the tent to get them. Where are you parked?”
“Parked?” he asked, frowning in confusion. “Why does that matter?”
“Well …” she had elongated the word. “So, we can work out the best way to get to it.”
“It’s fucking miles away. Not sure it will be that much use to us.”
“It can’t be that far. It should be easy to get to even if it’s in one of those off-site airport parking places.”
“Nah, fuck that, I ain’t walking to Gatwick.”
“Gatwick?”
“Yeah, Gatwick. That’s where I parked.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Claire huffed, “why did you say you had a car?”
“I have,” Sam said again. “I’ve got a Ford Fiesta.”
“Right, well, this has been a truly fascinating conversation.” Lex interrupted. “How about we grab some food and drink to take with us? Looks like we’ve got a long walk ahead of us.”
“I ain’t walking to fucking Gatwick. I already said that.”
“No Sam, we aren’t walking to Gatwick. I suggest we go to Oxford. It’s closer. We’ll find a way to get you home from there,” Lex’s words were slow and patronising.
“Fine,” Sam said.
In their haste to get out of the quarantine tent, all three of them had left their bags behind. They decided to find rucksacks. Only a few shops still had their doors open. They found one that sold luggage, and stepped inside to look around for something suitable.
As Sam was trying out a small navy blue bag, a group of people from the tent sprinted past the shop.
“Come back here, you wankers,” someone shouted. Within seconds a chair was thrown, narrowly missing the woman at the back of the group. Sam peered out of the shop in the direction of the voice and the chair. He quickly ducked his head back inside, as a dinner plate went soaring past.
“They’ve gone fucking mental. Loads of them are covered in blood.” Another plate was thrown and smashed in front of the shop. “They’re throwing things.”
“You think?” Lex asked sarcastically. She looked frantically around. “Hide,” she added and dashed over to a display of small, cabin-sized suitcases, and crouched down behind them, Claire and Sam following her.
“Jesus, not here,” the small display not big enough to conceal three people. Fortunately, the braying mob ran past the shop without looking in.
“We can’t stay here,” Lex said, peeking her head out from behind the suitcases.
“There look,” she pointed. “We’ll hide behind the counter at W. H. Smiths.” She sprinted and vaulted over the counter. Sam and Claire followed her again, and the three crouched silently, waiting for it to be safe enough to leave.
That had been hours ago, and they had been stuck here ever since. It sounded like the entire airport was being destroyed. Fights were breaking out in every direction, shop windows being smashed open, and the contents stuffed greedily into bags and pockets.
“I need a piss,” Sam whispered.
“You’re going to have to hold it,” Lex hissed in reply.
“Fuck that, I’m gonna piss myself if I don’t go soon. I’m gonna have to make a run for it,” Sam peered over the counter, and saw there was no one in front of the shop.
He stood slowly and cautiously. Still seeing no one, he turned back to the girls, “Wish me luck.”
He stepped out of the counter area just as a loud boom rang out, instantly followed by the deafening sound of a large window pane shattering, the shards falling to the floor. Sam quickly dropped into a prone position
The terminal fell deathly silent.
“Claire, Paige, Lex, are you in here?”
“Sally?” Claire asked
“Sounds like her,” Lex said. She stood up and stepped over Sam. Quickly glancing out of the shop, she smiled. “Sally, we’re over here,” she called, jumping and waving both hands. She did not notice the men and the woman, still rooted to the spot, glaring at her.
Sally walked over, holding a shotgun. She pointed it from side to side, as though ready to shoot anyone that dared to move.
“Lex, thank God,” she approached her friend. “I’d hug you, but you know …” she nodded at the shotgun in her hands.
“Er, yep, don’t worry. We should get out of here,” Lex replied.
Deciding it was safe, Claire stood up from behind the counter. “I am so pleased to see you,” she exclaimed at Sally. “It’s been a bloody nightmare.”
“Claire,” Sally squealed in delight, “I’m so sorry for leaving you here. I could have killed my dad when I got home.” She looked expectantl
y back at the direction Claire had appeared from. “Where’s Paige?” she asked. Lex and Claire exchanged glances.
“I’m so sorry, Sally,” Claire said eventually, “Paige died on Sunday.”
“Oh shit,” Sally said, earning a shocked look from Claire and Lex. That hadn’t been the response they expected. Sally had always been the more sensitive of the group of friends.
She had also been closer to Paige than Claire or Lex had. The pair had discussed at length how to tell Sally, and they’d expected hysterics, not calmness. Anger, not acceptance.
“Oh shit,” Sally said again. “Sorry … that sounded uncaring. It’s been a tough couple of days … so many people have died. Did a zombie get her?”
“Ha,” Sam shouted and jumped to his feet. “Told you.” He said to Lex.
“Oh, it’s you,” Sally said, with evident disdain.
Sam had the good grace to look shamefaced, “Look, Sally, I know I was a t...” His words were cut off as he was shoved brutally to one side by a large bald headed bloke. The man lunged at Sally. Another man, taller but thinner, pushed past Lex and Claire, knocking them like skittles to either side of him as he attacked Sally from the front.
While Sally had been talking to the others, she had let the shotgun drop in front of her, but her finger had stayed on the trigger. The man coming up behind her grabbed her right shoulder, causing her to flinch and tense her body. The motion made her squeeze the trigger tightly as she tried to stay upright. The shotgun went off with a deafening crack.
Sally went flying back, she had not braced for the recoil, and it knocked her off her feet. She careened into the bald man, her hefty frame knocking him backwards. His head smashing against a metal shelf with a loud thud. Together they fell to the floor. The now unconscious man cushioned Sally’s fall.
The other man was screaming, his right leg obliterated from the pellets that had been expelled at such short range. He collapsed to the floor, passing out from the pain.
Only Sam remained standing as he surveyed the scene in shock.
He went to Sally first and helped her off the floor.
“Are you okay?” he asked, genuine concern in his voice.
Sally looked at the scene in front of her, dumbfounded. She saw Sam’s mouth moving but could not make out his words, her ears ringing. She turned to look at the man she had just been lying on. A trickle of blood from the back of his head was forming a pool of blood on the floor.
“Oh shit …” she exhaled. “I didn’t mean to … it was an accident.”
“I know," Sam reassured her. “Perhaps I should take that,” he said, reaching for the shotgun still in Sally’s hands. She did not acknowledge him, but did not resist when he took it out of her hands. He studied it for a second, found the safety that was neatly concealed next to the trigger and pressed it on.
Two women came running over, each going to one of the men, both screaming hysterically at the sight of their injured husbands. “What did you do?” the one standing over the bald man spat at Sam.
“Weren’t me… it was ‘er,” he protested nervously, tilting his head towards Sally. She glared at him for a moment, then turned to the women.
“I’m so sorry… they tried to grab me… the gun went off... I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” she stammered, tears welling in her eyes.
More people were entering the shop. Angry stares directed at Sam and Sally, Lex and Claire slowly edging their way over to the pair, taking care to avoid the blood that covered the floor around the man with the mangled leg.
“I think we need to leave. Now,” hissed Lex as soon as she was close enough.
The crowd edged forwards, brandishing bottles, chair legs and anything else they had been using to ransack the airport. The fights of just moments ago now forgotten, enemies now became allies as they faced a common threat. That the threat was an obviously distressed teenager, was not relevant. These people were angry and scared, pent up rage fuelling the adrenaline that coursed through them. There is safety in numbers, and they gained in confidence as their numbers swelled.
Sally, Claire, Sam and Lex slowly stepped backwards, their intention to leave clear in their action. The mob stepped closer towards them. This went on for a few steps until Sam lifted the shotgun and swept it left and right across the crowd.
“Stay the fuck away from us,” he growled, menacingly. The crowd froze, allowing the four of them to gain some distance.
One man continued to step forwards. Sam pointed the gun directly at him. “I said, stay away from us. I will use this.” The man stopped and retreated a few steps to merge in with the rest of the mob.
Out of the corner of his mouth, he whispered, “Walk quickly, head towards the stairs.” The three girls turned and jogged towards the stairs. Sam continued to walk slowly backwards until he had gained sufficient distance for the mob to not be an immediate threat. Sally, Claire and Lex were waiting at the bottom of the stairs.
“What now?” Claire asked, a tremble in her voice giving away her fear.
“Let’s get out of the bloody airport,” Lex said.
“Um… that might not be so easy,” Sally said nervously. The other three turned to look at her.
“Why?” Lex asked.
“Because of the zombies,” Sally replied.
“Zombies. Seriously?” Lex said, ignoring the grin on Sam’s face as he stared at her.
“Why do you keep saying zombies?” Claire asked.
“Didn’t they tell you anything while you were in there?” Sally said, her tone gentle. She was still ashamed that she had left her friends behind. Especially now, knowing that if she had been more insistent, maybe she could have saved Paige.
“Not a bloody thing,” Lex raged. “They just left last night, and we haven’t seen anyone since.”
“Oh, oh dear, well … the thing is … there are zombies, lots of zombies. Everywhere. Some of them saw me come in here, so I think they might still be waiting outside,” Sally admitted.
“Ha, I knew it,” Sam said.
Lex glared at him, “You guessed, Sam, that is very different from knowing.”
“Right, so what should we do?” Claire asked.
“Let’s find somewhere safe to stay the night,” Sally suggested.
“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “Then perhaps you can tell us what the fuck is going on.” He stared accusingly at her, as though everything that had happened over the past few days was her fault.
Sally flushed with anger, “Why is he even here?”
“He’s been helping us,” Claire responded. Despite herself, she was growing fond of Sam. She could see through his arrogance and bravado to a scared and vulnerable young man. He had just lost all his friends. While she was still upset at the way he had treated Sally, they could not leave him alone now.
Lex smirked. “Has he? When?” She thought Sam was an idiot and a coward. She would have no qualms at leaving him to the face the angry mob.
“When … well … um …” Claire racked her brains, trying to think of an example.
“I just got rid of that lot, didn’t I?” Sam added, his voice rising an octave. Fear at the thought of being abandoned pulsated through him
“Yes. With my gun.” Sally retorted, holding her hand out to Sam. He passed the shotgun back to her.
“Listen, please don’t leave me behind. I can help, I know how to use that thing,” he gestured to the gun in Sally’s hands.
“There is safety in numbers,” Claire added logic to Sam’s plea.
“Fine,” Sally snapped. “You can come. We can always feed you to the zombies if you act like a prick.”
Sam opened his mouth to respond, but then snapped it shut again, figuring it would be better not to say anything that might make her change her mind. Instead, he merely responded with, “Thanks,” and the best look of gratitude he could muster.
Thirteen
The phone in my hand sits inert. Inanimate. Eventually the screen turns to black, yet still, I stare at it. It had tak
en me less than a second to figure out why Sally would have gone back to Heathrow. What I could not understand was why George had let her go, why he had not gone with her.
I know that Lex, Claire, and Paige are Sally’s best friends. I had pleaded with George to find a way to get them out of quarantine too, but he had been resolute. There was no way the Prime Minister would allow it. He had only agreed to Sally because he owed him a favour. I suspect he hadn’t even tried.
It does not surprise me that she has gone to get them. When she was younger, she had dreamed of being the knight in shining armour. Never the princess, like the other girls.
Now is her opportunity to play the hero. But what if one of those things attacks her? Would she freeze in fear or run away? Would she defend herself or be too scared?
Long ago I accepted that I have more affection for Sally than you would expect to have for your boss’s daughter. However, I hadn’t realised the depths of my feelings until now. She could be in danger, hurt, lost or scared. I feel a gut-wrenching terror that I’ve never experienced before. I realise now that I have an almost maternal love for her. If she is still alive, I will damn well find her and protect her.
I type a reply to George.
I will bring her home.
I return to Steve’s message and start to tap out a response, telling him what I’m planning to do. I pause midway, delete it and start again.
The message is simple.
OK xxx
I will be going to George’s once I have Sally, I reason. I haven’t lied to him. If I tell him the whole truth, he will be furious. He’ll tell me not to go, he might even get himself in trouble by coming to find me, I assure myself that it’s best that he doesn’t know.
Making the decision to go was easy. The reality of it is much harder. I cannot just jump in my car and drive to Heathrow. I need to plan, make sure I’ve got enough food and supplies. Weapons. A route. The clock on my phone tells me that it’s nearly four o’clock. I allow myself an hour to prepare.
Safe Zone (Book 1): The Greater Good Page 9