“22’s a dead end,” Eric said.
In the opposite direction lay Gates 1 to 8 as well as access to Terminals Two through Five.
“We’ve checked every point on Doug’s map and haven’t found a thing,” Ann said with noticeable despair.
Eric rubbed his wife’s back. “Have faith, honey. I just know whatever it was Doug marked by Gate 16 will have something for us.”
They turned left, Eric’s words about faith echoing through her head. The ghostly figures surrounding them stared back through listless, hollow eyes. Gradually over the last few days, anger and frustration had given way to sadness and now something new: resignation. The folks in Concourse B seemed to be giving up, convinced no one, neither God nor man, was coming to save them. Holly wondered if the same level of despondency was playing out in all the other concourses and terminals.
At some point, they passed a high-end clothing store. Inside, the shelves were completely bare. Five-hundred-dollar sweaters and dresses were now being used as blankets and bedding. The ski shop they saw next was a different story. Skis and snowboards were all that remained on the shelves. Everything else was gone, especially the snow gear, which was easily spotted on people around them.
“Here it is,” Riley called out, pointing. She was trying to be helpful.
“Keep your voice down.” Johnny scolded her. “You might as well make an announcement over the intercom.”
Riley’s face filled with sadness.
“There’s no need to be mean,” Ann shot back.
“I’m not gonna get killed because someone can’t keep their mouth shut,” Johnny snapped back. He leaned in. “What do you think’s gonna happen if these people find out there might be a stash of food nearby, huh?” His eyebrows rose, flashing the whites of his eyes.
“He’s got a point,” Holly admitted, reluctantly. “Maybe we should maintain some radio silence until we find what we’re looking for.” She glanced over at Dillon, who was pretending to adjust an imaginary mic and headset.
“It’s safer when you don’t talk,” he said. That also happened to be a philosophy he lived by.
At last they came to a pair of double doors. Overhead was a sign that read ‘Airport Employees Only.’ Holly was the first to push through. She had expected them to be locked, but they gave easily. They were back in darkness, so Sandra moved ahead with the flashlight from her phone. Riley and Eric followed suit. Suddenly the narrow corridor came into full view. It was empty save for a handful of open suitcases, their contents spilled out onto the floor. Had these bags been stolen and ransacked here in private? Holly couldn’t tell, but so far this wasn’t a good sign. They passed a door on their right which read ‘Lost and Found.’
Johnny tried the handle and found it locked. “Why am I not surprised?”
Twenty feet later was another door, this time on their left. It bore another ‘Employees Only’ warning. Holly tried the knob. It turned in her hand. Would they find a pantry or food storage area on the other side of this door? She gripped one of the chef’s knives and made her way inside. Sandra, Riley and Eric swiveled their flashlights around to reveal an employee changing room. A wooden bench sat before a row of fifteen lockers. Clothing and other personal items littered the ground. In one corner were two more suitcases, both of which had been pillaged. This was what purse snatchers did, Holly thought, remembering a show she’d seen not long ago. After the theft, they tended to return to a secluded spot to take what was valuable and dump the rest.
Holly’s heart sank when she saw that all but three of the lockers had already been opened.
Eric went over and pulled at the first lock.
“There any way to pry this?” Holly asked, trying not to get her hopes up.
Eric took a moment to inspect each of the three locks. “These aren’t top grade,” he said finally. “Fact, they’re pretty cheap-looking.” He glanced down at Johnny’s feet. “Give me your shoe,” he said.
Johnny’s face became a mask of disbelief. “Bro, are you insane? These are ostrich skin. Do you have any idea how much they cost?”
Shaking her head, Holly replied for Eric. “No, but I can tell you what they’re worth now. Zero.”
“I’ll give it right back,” Eric promised.
His eyes welling with tears, Johnny removed his dress shoe and held it between them. “Not a scratch,” he insisted.
“Scout’s honor,” Eric replied, raising three fingers before he took the shoe.
A loud boom filled the small room as the heel of Johnny’s overpriced shoe impacted the body of the lock. Johnny squealed in agony, but his emotional turmoil quickly morphed into elation when the lock fell away. “Wow, I didn’t think that had a hope in hell of working.”
Eric smirked. “Let’s just say that as a teenager, I wasn’t the most law-abiding citizen around.”
Ann’s eyes went wide, flicking between her husband and their daughter. “That’s news to me.”
Holly and the others laughed. Dillon remained straight-faced, not entirely certain what was going on.
A sour dose of reality crept back in when they actually searched the locker and found a yellow airport jumpsuit and earmuffs.
After studying the jumpsuit for a brief moment, Holly tossed it back. A quick glance on the floor around them as well as the hallway right outside was proof enough that clothes were not in short supply. It was food they were after. Anything edible, no matter if it was non-organic, loaded with sugar, MSG, saturated fats, dripping with gluten. Heck, Holly was sure anyone in their group would settle for a head of cabbage right about now.
Eric repeated his little magic trick on the other two locks, both with the same result.
After a careful search, Holly held up the only item of interest.
“Looks like half a hoagie,” she said, gently spreading both halves of the sandwich, the odor of bread and meat tickling her nose. “We got pepperoni, veggies and some kind of vinaigrette. It’s probably been sitting here for a week, maybe more, but it smells okay to me.”
The others were gathered around her, eyeing the hoagie like a starving fox eyeing a hen.
On the third locker’s top shelf was a newspaper dated the day before the crash. On the wrinkled front page was a headline about rising tensions between the US and China. The following day would be the cyber-attack against the banks. Sometime in the middle of that night the power would be switched off, freezing any and maybe all future headlines.
Holly yanked out the front page and laid it on a nearby table. She then took the chef’s knife and divided the sandwich into equal parts. She handed them out one by one. Each of them, including Dillon, wolfed down their share. Licking the juice dripping from her fingers, Holly was certain this was the best hoagie she’d ever eaten.
After he was done, Dillon returned to that last locker and began poking around.
“There’s nothing else, honey,” Holly told him, saddened that he wanted more. But the truth was, they all wanted more.
He rose up on his tiptoes and then reached one hand toward the back of the locker. He came out with what looked like a large set of keys. She moved closer. “What’ve you got there?”
Dillon cupped the mass of keys in his hand, weighing them. “I don’t know.”
It was then that something occurred to her. She remembered that first door they’d passed on their way in. It had read ‘Lost and Found.’ Could one of the keys on this chain open that door? And if so, what were the chances they might find something useful inside?
Without saying another word, Holly removed her phone, turned on the flashlight and headed back into the darkened corridor.