Stage 3: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller Read Online Free

feral cat. He shoved her away and stepped back, cursing.
    "Yeah, you're welcome, honey," he spat as she fell back and collapsed to the floor.
    As he turned away, he noticed that the drink cart hadn't been stowed properly and had rolled to one side, wedging itself against the sink. He helped himself to a double-handful of bottles, filled his pockets, and shoved through the maddening crowd to the closest door. The sirens outside had stopped, and red and yellow lights were flashing through the tiny window in the door. Well, thank Christ! A few seconds later, a face appeared in the window and the door cracked open. A set of stairs had been wheeled up, and a gruff older man was standing on the platform.
    "They're all blind, and they're all batshit crazy," Mason told him plainly and shoved rudely past him.
    "Are you Mr Tenby?" the man huffed.
    Mason rolled his eyes. "The name's Mason. And by the way, the copilot's sick, and those two up front are the only people on this whole damn plane who deserve your help."
    "Alright, Mr Tenby, we'll take it from here. See one of the fellows in the white shirts down there, and he'll give you the once-over."
    Mason side-stepped several men rushing to the top of the stairs and avoided the EMT's eager to lend a hand down below. He found a quiet little corner of the chaos, reached into his pocket for a bottle of scotch, and unscrewed the cap with practiced efficiency. Turning away from the tumult, he downed the drink in a swallow. His head still ached, but now it wasn't all from the alcohol. Now it ached from a general disgust of his fellow man. The derisive words of Hamlet came suddenly to his mind, and he mentally recited them with a grimace on his face and antipathy in his heart.
    What a piece of work is man…..
    Here, he'd helped save a planeload of idiots from an ignoble death, and they thanked him by beating the hell out of each other.
    How noble in reason, how infinite in faculties…… In form and moving, how express and admirable…..
    Yeah, okay, the pilots seemed okay, but he'd bet money that if they ever met again, he'd be dismissed with a fake-polite handshake and a 'maybe see you around'. Hell, they didn't even bother to know his goddam name! 
    In action, how like an angel….. In apprehension, how like a God!  The paragon of animals! 
    He thought of cute little Katie, all smiles and sweetness one minute, and a jungle cat with a burr up her butt the next. Just like Becks. He fished another bottle out of his pocket and snapped it open.
    And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me….. No, nor woman neither….
    With a raising of the bottle in silent toast to the creatures he'd spent a lifetime coming to loathe, he put the bottle to his lips and tossed it back with a shudder.

 
    CHAPTER II
     
    He stuck around just long enough to see that he was within walking distance of the terminal and that everyone in a uniform was far too busy to bother with someone who didn't seem like he needed assistance. With one last furtive glance back over his shoulder, then, he began to make his way away across a series of access roads toward the terminal and home. He came across a door standing open, guarded by a group of guys in reflective vests and smokes on the go, but he strolled right past them as if he owned the place and found himself in the staff area below the terminal. No one stopped him, and no one questioned him, so he looked around, found a stairwell, and was soon on the main floor. Passing into the terminal proper, he saw a sign pointing to something-or-other Bar and followed the arrows. Within minutes, he was seated in a corner booth, drink in hand and watching the drama unfold through a huge window overlooking the runway.
    No one willing to try parking that big beautiful girl, huh, Katherine?
    The plane was just where he'd left it. People were being helped down the stairs to waiting EMT's, but things didn't appear to be going smoothly. More than one