“How could they…?” Jo struggled to find the words. “You… sick bastards!”
Grabbing the champagne bucket just in time Gwen wretched and vomited, on the rocks.
“Now I assure you that what you just witnessed is very real. Breach the rules again and I will just kill someone else. It’s time to play the game.”
Dave reached out, trying to comfort Gwen.
“Don’t touch me!” She shrugged off his hand angrily, still clutching onto the ice bucket.
“I was just trying…” Dave’s voice was like an open wound.
“Well don’t. Keep your dirty hands to yourself.”
Jo watched Dave as he retreated to the rear of the aircraft; disturbed by the violence she sensed bubbling just beneath his surface.
Max stood up, pacing the aisle and looking up at the ceiling lights.
“You just killed an innocent man in cold blood for no fucking reason,” he snarled, barely suppressing his anger.
“I disagree,” Alligator replied, as calm and matter-of-fact as ever, “You implicated your friend when you broke the rules. And I will kill plenty more ‘innocent’ people if you don’t follow them — to the letter.”
His green face grinned from the monitors. “Thank you for your kind co-operation.”
Alligator’s words hung heavy in the air as the computer displays blinked off again.
Jo took a napkin from the bar and handed it to Gwen who took it and wiped bile from her mouth. Turning to face Dave, Jo narrowed her eyes angrily.
“So you think that was faked too?”
Dave shook his head, eyes vacant. “I don’t know what to believe anymore…”
Jo approached Max, who was glancing around the cabin with an expression of pure paranoia.
“Why are they doing this… to us?” she asked. “What’s going on here?”
Max shook his head, taking deep breaths and drowning his anger in recycled oxygen. He glanced over Jo’s shoulder at the others. Gwen looked dreadful, her face pale and drawn after her ablutions. Dave seemed more on edge than ever — his clown’s facade had slipped and gone.
“Got to keep our heads…” Max whispered.
Jo nodded her silent agreement.
Blink, blink, flash.
Something beyond the darkened porthole window nearest Max caught her eye.
Jo moved toward the glass, zombie-like and numb, peering outside. Her quick breath fogged the window. Through the haze she saw distant lights, glittering in the dark beyond the clouds.
“We’re close to land,” she realised.
“What?!” Max turned sharply.
Dave and Gwen moved to the window nearest them, on the same side of the plane as Jo, peering out, curious.
“We should be over the Atlantic now. But we’re not. Look — there’s land, over there.”
“What does that mean?” Gwen asked.
Max answered. “Whatever our destination is…”
“It’s not New York,” Jo finished.
“So where are we going then?” Dave asked. “Jesus.”
They all looked to one another, mortal fear in their eyes. Alligator’s games had diverted all their focus onto the victims of their forfeits. It hadn’t occurred to them that they themselves might be in danger aboard the jet — until now.
Max turned and looked at the flat panel TV screen on the wall at the front of the plane. Maybe, just maybe, he thought. The thing had been inactive for the duration of the flight so far. He approached the screen, tapping the power button a couple of times. Dead, totally dead — yes, maybe.
His fingertips found the groove behind the screen’s casing. He pressed with his fingers, working them down into the gap, and pulled. The wall bracket moved, only a centimetre or two, but enough for him to get a purchase on it. He twisted and pulled with all his might, wrenching the bracket back out of the cavity wall. The screen tipped forward into his arms, heavy all of a sudden, and he crouched, dropping it to the floor.
Gwen looked horrified. “Don’t! You’ll piss Alligator off and he’ll…”
But Max was intent on his newfound task. “No power cable,” he said, excitement in his voice as he checked both the hole in the wall and the cable ports in the back of the TV.
“What are you doing?” Dave asked.
“This screen should show our flight path, ETA, weather systems, all that stuff…”
His eyes, sharpened with purpose, darted around the cabin and settled on Dave’s touch screen.
“The lead,” Max said.
Dave looked dumbfounded.
“Disconnect the lead,” Max clarified. “Pass it to me!”
Dave disconnected the power lead from the back of his screen and tried to hand it Max. It didn’t quite reach.
“I said don’t! You shouldn’t be doing this,” Gwen said, her voice laden with dread.
Ignoring her pleas, Max wrested the monitor from its bracket and dragged it across the floor, closer to the power cable. Still a couple of inches too far.
Dave yanked at the cable, snapping it away from its wall housing, pulling with all his might until he could plug it into the monitor. The screen fizzed into life, the Deppart Airlines logo appearing briefly before dissolving to a computer-generated map display.
“What?” Max said, as a GPS flight path marker appeared over the map, a little pixelated plane showing their position.
“Where the fuck are we?” Dave asked.
“We’re over Denmark,” Jo said.
Max nodded. “According to this we’re bound for Oslo. What the hell is in Oslo?”
Jo cut in. “All2gethr headquarters are in Oslo.”
“Why are they doing this to us?” Gwen asked, lip trembling.
“I don’t think this is All2gethr,” Max said.
“What?” Dave snapped.
“You think a social network is doing this? No, it can’t be them, can’t be.”
“Who is it then?” Dave railed on, “It’s all legit — this trip…”
“You read it in an email did you? It’s got to be legit then hasn’t it!?” Dave’s idiocy was beginning to grate with Max.
“This is their competition — we were contacted through their site, remember.”
“You think a social network is out there killing people? For what reason? Profit margins not high enough so they’ve moved into hit jobs? Snuff videos? No mate, whoever it is, it isn’t All2gethr.”
Dave shook his head in disbelief. Max looked past him at the cockpit door.
“We’ve got to get to that pilot,” Max said.
Dave looked defeated. “I bloody tried, door’s sealed tight.”
“People are dying because we broke the rules.” Gwen was now at the bar, helping herself to some chilled water. “Maybe we should just think about playing along before someone else gets hurt.”
“They can’t wipe out everybody can they? I’ve got over a thousand people on my friend list…”
“Oh, go you, Dave. This isn’t a bloody popularity contest!” Gwen shouted.
“That’s not what I…”
“Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats…”
Alligator’s voice interrupted Dave’s protest, the reptilian voice making the speakers rattle.
“It is time for Round Three.”
Ten
“Why the hell are we flying to Oslo?” Max demanded.
He was standing in the aisle next to Jo, both of them looking defiant.
“All in good time,” Alligator teased.
Gwen began to sob from her seat, pleading with them to sit down, to just do as Alligator said.
“No more,” Jo said, “We’re not playing any more.”
The speakers crackled faintly, then Alligator made his next move.
“Very well, you give me no choice but to initiate another forfeit. Let’s see…”
The touch screens flickered into life, rifling through Jo’s friend profiles. She watched in abject terror as familiar names and faces scrolled across the screen. So many innocent people.