Heading toward the next hangar, an explosion suddenly erupted from the airport terminals. « BOOM! »
They were both used to that kind of thing.
« At least London is still alive, even if almost no place is safe anymore. »
Yumiel's curiosity was getting the better of her; she absolutely wanted to go check where the explosions were coming from.
« Can we go take a quick look? »
Jack was in the middle of smashing one of the hangar doors.
« We need to stay focused, the objective is the Werewolf. As we speak, he's probably being hunted by the Seraphim, it's only a matter of time. »
Yumiel sulked slightly, but understood.
« You could at least have made new walkie-talkies. »
Jack entered the hangar, Yumiel right beside him, following.
« I did, I tuned it to the same frequency as the old one. »
Seeing no plane, Jack opened the central door and moved on to the next hangar.
« Ah you did… Jack, it might be that I didn't take mine… »
Jack pulled a walkie-talkie out of his loose tracksuit and handed it to Yumiel.
« I made two just in case, take one. »
Yumiel took the walkie-talkie and headed toward the explosions.
« Thanks, keep me posted, good luck with the plane. »
Jack turned around and saw Yumiel heading straight for the explosions.
« No—HEY YUMIEL! YUMIEL! »
She was already too far away to hear him, running toward the source of all the noise. It didn't take her long to reach it without Jack, running much faster.
Inside the airport, there were many bodies piled up, the floor sticky with dried blood. Countless bullet impacts were visible everywhere, not to mention holes all over the place, debris and trash littering the ground.
It reminded her of the train station—no surprise. People want to flee the massacre, but not everyone can.
Walking through the airport, she came across a wall with words written in human blood.
« Heaven has abandoned you. I open my arms to you. »
Yumiel looked at the writing; one might think a demon had written it. She simply said out loud:
« Charming. »
Continuing toward the explosions, Yumiel's radio crackled to life.
« Kshhh. Yumiel, I found a Falcon but it's out of service, the controls aren't responding. I could repair it, but I'd need about 1 to 2 hours. »
« Boom. » An explosion went off near Yumiel, destroying a wall in front of her, several hundred meters away.
« Kshhh. Understood, either repair it or look elsewhere, I trust you. »
Yumiel ran toward the shattered wall; by the time she reached the fallen block, she heard an "okay" over the radio.
The wall had collapsed into a single massive chunk.
Entering through the breach, she saw men and women fighting to the death with whatever they had at hand.
It didn't really interest her; she moved aside. Next to her stood a human who also seemed to be staying out of it. Intrigued, she went to talk to him.
« Hey, tell me, what's going on here, why are these people killing each other? »
The man looked her up and down.
« You're pretty decent-looking, just missing a bit in the chest. Which gang are you from? »
A strong urge to kill rose within her, but she held herself back.
« I'm not affiliated with any gang or group, I just want to know why they're killing each other. »
« Why, huh? Well, there's a commercial airliner still intact and flight-ready, but there are only 200 to 250 seats at most. »
Yumiel looked back; people were trampling over one another. But there weren't 200 people—barely 100.
« Why are they still killing each other? There are barely a hundred of them. »
The man took out a cigarette and calmly lit it, watching the carnage.
« Because there are over a thousand people total, and this is just a small group. The other nine hundred are probably scattered throughout the airport. »
« But why are they so desperate to leave the country? And you—why is no one attacking you? »
The man took deep drags, blowing smoke toward Yumiel.
« Haven't you seen the news? London is classified as a red zone. And good question, but they can't do anything to me—I'm the pilot. If I die, no one gets out of here. »
Yumiel smiled when she heard he was a pilot.
« Perfect. I'm looking for one. You're coming with me. »
The man raised an eyebrow. « And why would I follow you? »
Yumiel sent her seven daggers into the crowd, slicing through everyone in their path. After a few minutes, almost no one was left, the last ones fleeing.
Then she tore out their hearts one by one, all right in front of the pilot, who watched calmly, smoking. Once finished, she returned to him.
« Better now? »
The man crushed his cigarette, stood up, and extended his hand to Yumiel. She took it as he introduced himself.
« Flight Lieutenant Alan Wright. »
« Yumiel. I understand better now why you seem so blasé and jaded—you barely reacted when I slaughtered them. »
Alan walked over to the bodies, picked up a pack of cigarettes, took one, slipped the pack into his jacket, pulled out a lighter, and lit it.
« I fought quite a few times in Africa, so I'm used to human cruelty. »
Yumiel pulled out her radio.
« Kshhh. Jack, are you there? »
« Kshhh. Yes. »
« Kshhh. I found a pilot, I'm bringing him back after doing a bit of cleanup. »
« Kshhh. Copy that, have fun. »
She put away the walkie-talkie and looked at Alan smoking.
« Do you know where the others are? »
« Why, to kill them? »
Yumiel's cold gaze met Alan's indifferent one.
« Exactly, like the monster I am in the eyes of the new world order. »
He took a drag with a « fsshh », then exhaled the smoke—« ffff… ».
« Monster or human, I don't see much of a difference. »
Taking one last drag, he tossed the cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his boots, then walked off without a word. Yumiel simply followed him. In the long corridors of the airport.