Chapter 1: Pilot

Rebecca Alison
Friday 6, February 2015
20:53 Hours
Phoenix, Arizona

“MOVE IT!”

She shoved the people out of her way only to find yet another guard in her way. She cursed under her breath and heaved her bag around him, but he tapped her shoulder lightly and, when she turned, he gestured calmly to return to the Waiting Room. She rolled her eyes widely and, insulting the man with a whisper he couldn't hear, she returned to her seat. All around, people struggled to see if their plane had finally been scheduled to fly off, but to no avail: no planes would fly today. The announcer said there were weather reports indicating the possibility of storms coming in, but people knew better, there would be no problems in the flight there.

“Ugh, these airports are a pain in the butt...” The woman said to no one in particular. “They sure as heck make one's life hard...”

“Tell me about it...” A man said. She turned and realized he was, in fact, quite handsome: Over six feet tall, with short-cut black hair and honey brown eyes, the man wore a trench coat and carried a briefcase. He sat besides her and took a sip of coffee. “I've been waiting here for hours.”

“Oh, well, let's hope it all gets sorted out soon, right?” She said, her attitude changed. She pushed her black hair back and, unconsciously, leaned towards him, and he caught this.

“Yeah, hopefully.” He said, leaning back and crossing his legs. “I just hope nothing bad happens.”

“What do you mean?” She was startled at his coldness.

“With a crowd like this, things could get rough.” He said, his tone sounded bored, like he was hoping for something to happen. “Sure, the guards will interfere quick, so there's no problem if something happens.”

“What, exactly, do you mean?” She repeated the question.

“I mean-”

“James.” A woman said. She was small and slender, with long blond hair tied back in a ponytail and piercing blue eyes. “Where were you?”

“I was getting a coffee and having a nice little chat with...” He stopped. “I never quite caught your name.”

“Rebecca.” She said, smiling.

Rebecca Alison. Attorney at Law. At the age of thirty six, she's been a lawyer for years. Known as a prodigy and a genius, she's proven her smarts over and over both in the courtroom and out of it, where she has been famed as a writer. She stiffened when James stood and kissed the blond woman, and something made her want to throw up, but it wasn't the kiss. It was a smell. A smell she had smelled quite a few times when working. The smell of rotten flesh. She stood and turned, trying to determine where the smell came from, but was attentive enough to spot a man walking down towards the crowd, a hand on his arm and a steady streak of blood dripping from his arm. She then realized the clothes he was wearing: A pilot uniform.

“James look-” She turned, only to notice he was gone.

She turned back to look at the pilot, but he wasn't there anymore. Was it an illusion? No, it couldn't be. She knew it wasn't one, because of the smell. Instantly, she picked up her purse, left the bag there, and she walked swiftly to where he had been. Reaching the area, she spotted what made her belief true: Blood. Dipping the tip of her finger in it, she smelled it and, just as expected, it was human, and fresh, but had a hint of putrid to it. She whipped her finger off on a napkin and, dropping it to the ground, followed a trail of blood to it's destination, which turned out to be the Men's Bathroom. She poked the door open.

“Is anyone in here?” She said, but her voice choked. She was completely alone in that part of the airport and, for some unknown reason, she was shuddering. Fear filled her as she took a step forward. “Is anyone there?” She spoke more clearly, but her voice seemed to echo without meaning against the walls. There was a creak at the end of the bathroom, but no voice answered. “Hello? Are you okay?” No answer. Another step into the bathroom, and the door swung closed. Gulping, she spoke once again: “I'm Rebecca. I'm here to help. Come out?” It sounded more like a question than anything else. Suddenly, though, the door at the end creaked open, and she froze. Turning to run, she slammed into someone, and screamed out in fear.

“Oi, I didn't know I was THAT bad looking.” He said, smiling. Then frowned when he noticed how afraid she really was. “Is something the matter?”

“I- I- I think there's someone hurt in here.” She said, pointing behind her.

“Really?” He asked, looking towards the open door at the end. “Huh. Probably an old man. I'll check.”

He pushed her back behind himself and slowly, cautiously, walked to the door. Taking a look inside, he roared out in pain, and she jumped, slammed against the wall, and cowered, covering her eyes from whatever was making such a huge guy scream out like that. Silence surrounded her when, suddenly, she heard him laugh. Not an evil laugh, but an I-got-you laugh. So, she took a peek, and spotted him there, leaning on the wall, laughing heartily. She stood and, with renewed bravery from his laughter, walked to the end and looked inside. Empty. But how? She had seen someone open the door. Or, had she?

“Nothing.” She whispered.

“Nothing at all.” He said, still grinning. “Should've seen your face, though. Worth a million.”

“Pulling pranks on people you don't know, huh.” She said, trying to get angry at him, but she found his laugh, and his smile, too charming to move her to anger. Suddenly, someone shouted out in horrifying pain in the distance, but she looked at him: “Another prank of yours?”

“Not at all.” He frowned and dashed for the door without another word.

She followed, feeling braver with him than alone, even if he WAS running to a dangerous place. She shook her head. Why are you so afraid, Rebecca, she thought, you've handled situations like this before! She skidded to a halt right behind James, who had stopped. They were in an dark, dimly lit part of the airport, far from the bustle of the Waiting Room. She realized the area was farther than she had intended to go, and was about to point it out when she realized why James had stopped. He was crouching next to a body and was checking for vitals. In a second, he finished, and, before he even said it, she knew.

“Dead.”

“Yes. And fresh too.” He said, pointing at the blood that surrounded the victim. “The criminal could still be around, he might even be watching us...”

“Don't say things like that!” She said, looking around. It was impossible to be watched from anywhere without being spotted. “Anyway, what do you think happened?”

“No idea.” He said, standing. “But-”

Suddenly, the body rears up and, with a huge bite, sinks its teeth into James' leg. Crying out in pain, he falls, and the once-dead body climb on, slowly gnawing at James' body as he wrestles to push him off. With a grunt, he slammed his fist into the small body's face and it stopped moving. James pushed the body off, but he was already half-gone, so he gestured her to approach. She did so, careful not to touch his wounds, nor the dead body besides him, and, as she kneed besides him, he whispered:

“I'm... A... Follower......” and, as the last breath left his body, she ran off.