Shareware Supreme Volume 6 #1/swsii.zip/swsii/201/RUBYV20.ZIP/RUBY20-5

Text File | 1993-03-21 | 4KB | 65 lines

Copyright 1993(c)         CONCOURSE M
                         By Michael Hahn

     Chicago's O'Hare International Airport is said to be the
busiest in the world. Its concourses are usually filled with
travellers, and today I was one of them. My flight from
Indianapolis arrived at Gate C-32, and the connecting flight to
Washington was due to leave Gate B-18 in just over two hours. I
had some time to kill, so as I walked through the terminal I read
the novel I'd started on the flights out.
     It's a very large airport, and getting from one concourse to
another can be quite a walk. They have slidewalks, though; they're
like horizontal escalators. Between sections of the airport are
paired slidewalks, one labelled `Walk' and the other labelled
`Stand'. I stepped on the latter, leaned against the handrail, and
let it carry me forward as I read my book. As each slidewalk ended,
I glanced up only long enough to sight the next one.
     Maybe the book was too engrossing, or maybe I was just tired.
The change in illumination and the thinning of the crowd wasn't
immediately apparent to me. I only noticed the change when the
slidewalk gave way to a true escalator, moving downward. At the
bottom was a dimly-lit hallway, and a sign that read simply,
"Concourse M".
     I frowned, glanced around for an airport directory. The
hallway was lit by a single strip of light running down the center
of the hallway's ceiling, a cold, dim fluorescent tube. At the
other end I thought I could see an information desk, and I began
to walk in that direction.
     A black-clad couple rounded the corner next to the desk as I
approached, and hurried past me in the other direction. As I
passed them, they seemed to glance away. A pale man sat behind
the desk, regarded me curiously as I approached. A half-frown
danced about his lips as I began to speak.
     "Excuse me," I said. "Can you tell me how to reach Concourse
B?"
     "Oh, dear," he began, "you really shouldn't be here. Turn
around and return to the escalator as quickly as you can."
     I assumed this must be some sort of private terminal for
VIP's. "Look," I said, "I just took a wrong turn somewhere. How
do I get back to Concourse B?"
     The clerk glanced to his right. A man was approaching from
that direction. The clerk looked frightened as he turned to me.
"Go!" he hissed. "Go now. Turn around and go as fast as you
can."
     I was staring at the man coming down the hall. He smiled at
me. I turned and ran. I stumbled up the escalator, dropped my
novel as I sprinted along the slidewalk. I shot a hurried glance
over my shoulder--the smiling man, the one with the dead-white
face and shining red eyes, was still behind me. I ran on as
though my life depended on it. It probably did.
     I'm not sure how long I ran. What I am sure of is that
somewhere along the way the lights got brighter, the crowds
returned, and the smiling vampire vanished. A security guard
snagged me coming around a corner. "Whoa, buddy," he said,
catching my arm. "What's your hurry?"
     "A man's been chasing me all the way from Concourse M,"
I stammered. "What kind of people are down there, anyway?"
     "Concourse M?" the guard said, puzzled, then shook his head.
"You'd better stay out of the bars, buddy. There's no Concourse M
at this airport." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the
directory on the wall.
     I stared at the map. Concourse A was on the right. Concourse
L was on the left. There was no Concourse M.
                               END