Panic Button

Sixteen

Jo watched as Max worked furiously at the laptop keyboard.

He was rambling, only snatches of what he was saying breaking through. And those brief sentences were unintelligible to her, something about source code and closed networks — techno-speak, gobbledegook. Her mind was a fug, numbed by the shock of finding Dawn among the bodies in the luggage compartment. Only the vague hope that they might contact the outside world was keeping her brain from shutting down completely.

“Give me the laptop.”

The man’s voice cut through the fog of Jo’s thoughts, startling her back into the here and now. He was standing just a few feet away, dressed in the signature smart white shirt and black tie of an airline pilot. He was pointing a bright yellow plastic taser gun at them. His eyes darted from Max to Jo, as though ascertaining which was the biggest threat to him. Brow slicked with sweat, he looked to be full of nerves, but determined to conquer them.

Seeing the taser gun, Max retracted his hands from the laptop keyboard and looked up at Jo. She looked back at him, gobsmacked by the intruder’s sudden appearance in the cabin.

“Hand it over, slowly.”

Max relented — there was clearly no other choice but to comply. He slid the laptop across the floor. It came to a halt a few inches away from the man’s feet.

Not lowering his guard for a second, the man lifted his foot and brought it down on the laptop, hard. Stamping again and again, he smashed the screen until it snapped away from the keyboard. Grinding his heel into the keys, the machine made a pained whining sound then died.

Max winced, looking as crushed as his beloved machine.

Jo watched as the man took a single, bold step closer to them.

Broken glass crunched beneath his shiny black leather shoes. His eyes widened as he took in the carnage. Blood stains everywhere, from the gory mausoleum in the luggage hold and from Dave’s shattered skull. Seeing Dave and Gwen’s partially covered bodies, the man took a sharp intake of breath, tightening his grip on the taser. His gaze rested on Jo’s hands, her skin still slicked with gore.

She placed them behind her back.

“What the… hell has been going on in here?”

Bile rose in Jo’s throat. How the hell could he stand there and ask her that?

“Alligator,” she spat. Every ounce of bitterness she possessed was in her voice.

“Stay back.” The man turned the taser gun toward Jo, retreating slowly.

Jo glanced at Max. Their eyes met and she knew he had reached the same conclusion she had. Together, they launched themselves at the man with all their might, giving him no chance to trigger the taser. The man struggled against their assault, but they were too much for him and he toppled. Jo scratched and bit at him like a feral woman. Max grappled him to the floor and began raining blows.

Max wrestled the taser gun from his hands and scrambled to his feet. The taser was now trained on its previous owner.

Jo backed away from the man, catching her breath amidst the adrenaline rush.

The man scurried backwards until his back was resting against the bar area. He shook his head, dizzy from their blows. Dabbing at his bleeding lip, he looked up at Max, afraid.

Max staggered forward, coughing. His skin was now deathly pale and slicked with perspiration. For a moment he looked as though he might collapse. Then he coughed again and cleared his throat, regaining his composure — and his grip on the taser weapon.

“Don’t move you sick fuck. Stay exactly where you are,” Max growled.

Jo felt the man’s eyes on her, still. She felt naked — felt the blood drying on her hands and arms. Anger and guilt and fear combined into a need to be armed so she could protect herself. Her eyes searched the cabin and she saw the crash axe’s blade glinting under the overhead lights. She grabbed it and brandished it at the stranger, who shifted uncomfortably on the floor.

“You heard what he said! Don’t move! Who are you?”

The man brushed a shard of broken glass from the Deppart Airlines epaulet affixed to the shoulder of his shirt, and then peered up at her. The look on his face was disarming. He looked just as freaked out as Jo felt. She couldn’t risk letting her guard down, for fear that this was yet another of Alligator’s mind games.

“Who the fuck are you?” Her speech was clearer and calmer this time. The weapon in her hand was giving her power, and purpose.

“Callahan… George Callahan. I own this plane. I’m just a pilot…”

Jo lunged forward with the axe, Max training the taser gun right between Callahan’s eyes. The man recoiled, holding his palms up in surrender. Sweat had stained the armpits of his shirt.

“I swear to God.”

Max grimaced, cold sweat gathering around his bloodshot eyes.

“Yeah? Then why did you smash up my bloody laptop?”

“I’m… just doing what I’m told.”

“By who?”

Jo and Max both guessed the answer before Callahan opened his mouth to speak.

“Alligator.”

“Who is the Alligator?” Jo snapped.

Callahan just shook his head. “I don’t know. I haven’t even seen his face — his real face.”

Jo glanced at Max. Could Callahan be telling the truth?

“He’s lying,” Max said.

“So, why shouldn’t we kill you right now?”

Callahan snorted. A pained laugh. “Fly this plane can you?”

“Jesus.” Max looked away, coughing.

“So why are you here? Why are we on your plane?”

The man sighed. He looked deflated, glancing around at the dead bodies and smashed monitors. He looked distant, like he was thinking of someone, somewhere else.

Jo watched him, curious, seeing something of her own predicament in his eyes. Her thoughts returned to Sophie. She had to get to the bottom of this, had to find a way out. Jo turned to Max, but he was leaning on his seat back looking worse for wear. Just hang on in there Max, she thought, we’re almost there…

She looked back at Callahan and caught him watching them cautiously. Clutching the axe, she moved closer to him.

“Alligator — what do you know about him?”

“He’s got my family. My wife and…” Callahan’s eyes welled up with tears. “My son. When I came home day before yesterday, they were gone. The house… Jesus what a mess. They ransacked the place, tore it apart. Then I got the message…”

“Message? What message?”

Jo pictured herself reading the All2gethr winner’s email. Sophie’s excitement when she’d told her she was going to New York. Then she smelled the bodies in the luggage hold, recalled the blank fear in Dawn’s eyes. She blinked away the terrible images invading her thoughts. Tried to focus on Callahan’s voice.

“The bastard left a recording.” Tears were trickling down his face now. “He killed my son, Jacob… he… To show me he meant business. He said he’d kill them all if I didn’t do what he said.”

Jo had no words left in her dry mouth. She could easily imagine Alligator saying those words, and knew how Callahan must have felt. Had Alligator shown this poor wretch the footage of his son being murdered? She felt a pang of guilt at the memory of the execution viral she had forwarded to her friends.

It’s not the same, she told herself, that’s what Alligator wants you to think, that you’re as bad as him. That’s how he keeps you on your toes, fighting for your loved ones.

She stared down at Callahan bitterly. Wasn’t that what he was trying to do? Fight for his loved ones? She glanced at the suitcases, spilling their human cargo out through the bathroom door. Poor fool.

“I can’t let that happen,” Callahan continued, echoing Jo’s thoughts, “I won’t let that happen. I’m only doing what I have to do, to save them.”

His self-pity was beginning to have a negative effect on Jo. Didn’t he care about what they’d been through while he was locked away in that cockpit?

“We’ve all lost people,” Jo said. “My Mother is dead. Everybody he showed us is dead!”

Callahan’s eyes hardened. He glanced around the cabin as if he was reminding himself of some dreaded purpose.

He cleared his throat. “You going to tell me what you did out here?”

Jo felt the look of guilt flash across her face before she could quell it. She glanced at Max, who lurched back toward Callahan.

“We did what we had to, mate.”

The plane dropped suddenly, losing altitude.

Jo cried out and Max fell backwards onto his seat. They steadied themselves as the plane levelled out. Jo thought of the map, the little red line showing their flight path into the All2gethr.com headquarters.

“You have to land this plane. If you crash into All2gethr, you’ll kill hundreds of innocent people.”

“Innocent people I don’t know,” Callahan said. “People die every day… but not my family, not today. He already took my youngest, my Jacob, from me. You don’t have any idea what that’s like.”

“Oh, believe me, I do know. He killed my mother. He has my daughter.”

Jo knelt down next to Callahan. Behind her, Max was doubled over his seat, coughing hard.

“Please,” Jo’s voice was as calm as she could make it. “God knows what he’s going to do with her. She’s only eight years old…”

Her words looked to be hitting home.

Callahan’s eyes softened. But Max’s coughing grew louder still, distracting him. Jo looked over her shoulder at Max, who looked to be on the verge of collapse.

He was in the throes of an unstoppable torrent of agonised hacking coughs. As the coughing grew more intense, he started to gag and splutter. Horribly, specks of blood and bile sprayed from his mouth as he fell to his knees. He dropped the taser gun and clutched at his throat. His eyes looked like bursting plums as he slumped back onto the floor, rasping.

“What’s the hell’s wrong with him?” Callahan asked, afraid.

Still clutching the axe, Jo dashed over to Max. She kneeled over him and placed her hand on his forehead.

“Oh no. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

She looked mortified, tears leaking from her eyes as Max tugged desperately at her clothing.

“What-did-you-do-to-me?” he rasped.

“It was… I thought it was the only way…”

Bloody spittle coated Max’s lips in a noxious foam as he tried to draw painful breaths, each intake of oxygen like a knife blade to his chest.

Jo was desperately trying to cradle him, but he used the last of his strength to fight her off, shoving at her like she was attacking him.

She heard Callahan’s outraged voice from over her shoulder.

“What did you do to him?”

Max uttered two sharp, final, breaths. He fell silent, eyes fixed in silent horror at Jo’s guilty face.

Only what I had to do, to save her, thought Jo, to save my baby girl.

Callahan snatched the taser from the floor. He was standing over Jo now.

She looked down at Max, the boy she’d felt so drawn to when they’d first met at the airport. The boy who was now dead from the poison she had poured into the champagne under Alligator’s instruction. Max had downed all the glasses. She’d meant for the others to partake too. Jo gripped the crash axe. Alligator had made a murderess of her. That’s how far she’d go to save her little Sophie.

“Oh Bravo, Jo.” Alligator’s voice, razor sharp, cut through the tension in the cabin. “Beautiful work. You’re the only one who has actually managed to complete their assignment.”

Jo stood up and locked eyes with Callahan. He was pointing the taser gun right at her.

She was ready for the fight.

“Time for the final round,” Alligator sneered.

The claustrophobic emergency lighting clicked on, painting the jet interior a carnal red. Jo’s monitor screen flickered with digital noise, which cleared to reveal a camera-eye view of a shadowy room. On-screen, a terrified middle-aged woman and teenage boy were tied up, back-to-back, on chairs in the centre of the room, their mouths gagged with thick black duct tape.

“Ten minutes to impact, Mr. Callahan. So, the question is, are you going to listen to Jo the poisoner here, or are you going to get back on schedule and save your wife and firstborn?”

Callahan looked at the screen, distraught. The cameraman held a gleaming hunter’s knife blade up to his captives’ eyes. His wife and son’s fear was palpable through their muffled cries for help — help that wasn’t going to come unless he acted.

“Don’t listen to him,” Jo pleaded, “they’re already dead… they’re all here, all of them!”

She gestured at the piles of body parts.

Callahan glanced at her, then back at the screen.

“Which one goes first? Wifey? Or the boy?” Alligator said.

Jo fixed Callahan with imploring eyes. “Don’t listen to him!”

Callahan hesitated, hearing Jo’s urgency but unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of his wife and child on the monitor screen.

They twitched and struggled against their bonds as the camera-killer drew closer to them, knife blade gleaming.

“It’s all pre-recorded. Those suitcases back there… all the people he told us were still alive on the ground. They’re all fucking dead! All of them!”

She grabbed Callahan’s shoulder, forcing him to look toward the suitcases, at the blood and severed limbs.

He looked at her, numb at the sight of so much death and the muffled cries of his family.

“You said he has your daughter.”

“What? I…”

“If your daughter is alive then there’s a chance my family is too.”

“I looked through the suitcases, my Mum’s body was there but not my daughter’s. But all the other people were killed before we even took off — that video he’s showing you…”

Callahan’s face was resolute. “No. If there’s even the slightest chance they’re alive… I can’t take the risk of letting them die.”

“No. No! Please! They’re dead already!” Jo tried desperately to grab a hold of him, but he fended her off.

“Get in that cockpit right now Callahan, or your pretty wife loses her head.”

Alligator’s voice betrayed an anger Jo had not heard in him before. She watched, dismayed, as the pilot began to retreat towards the cockpit.

“No! Don’t do this! All those innocent lives, for nothing!”

“Too slow,” Alligator said.

Callahan’s eyes widened in pure terror as the on-screen killer pushed the tip of the blade into his wife’s neck. Blood trickled over the blade, a little flower of death blooming.

“Now get back in that cockpit or I’ll take her fucking head clean off.”

“No,” Jo said, “Please…”

She searched Callahan’s eyes, looking for that glimmer of hope that he might see reason in what she’d told him. Only pain and regret looked back at her. Callahan turned on his heels and walked back toward the cockpit door. She swallowed an angry breath, forcing it back down into her solar plexus. Jo felt it burning inside her, and drew energy from her rage.

“Stop!”

He turned, and she charged at him, lifting the axe in readiness to strike.

He flinched, trying to lift the taser gun in time, but she’d caught him by surprise. She closed in on him, almost within striking distance. The plane’s engines whined in protest as the jet buckled in the gathering storm, dropping suddenly and knocking Jo off her course. She stumbled and fell against the hull, smacking her head with a heavy thud. The edge of the seat stopped her from hitting the deck, and she pushed herself up into a standing position using the crash axe for support. The plane righted itself once more and she turned to face Callahan again, clutching the axe with both hands now.

Callahan raised his arm, taking aim, and fired the taser at her. She looked down in shock at her chest, seeing the little electrodes that had pierced her blouse and were embedded in her flesh.

Convulsing from the sudden surge of electricity through her nervous system, she staggered back into the hull again and dropped to the floor.

Callahan advanced, finger on the trigger, still pumping volts into her prone body.

Jo lay on the floor watching, sideways, as he crouched down and disconnected the taser wires from her paralysed form. Her vision blurred as she watched his shiny black shoes disappear over the threshold and into the cockpit.

Moments before she passed out, she saw the little LED light at the cockpit door flicker from green to red.