Frazer Lee - Panic Button

“No, don’t,” Jo pleaded, “You’ll just piss him off!”

This was a red rag to a bull for Dave, who swivelled his monitor around and, still standing up, tried to access his mail. Just as he was about to tap the email log-in button, all their screens went blank.

“Max has breached the rules by attempting to contact people regarding the game.”

Max leapt to his feet, pleading skyward. “How can using All2gethr be breaking the rules mate? That’s insane!”

“It was in the Terms and Conditions,” Alligator replied, his voice laden with officiousness.

Jo groaned and rolled her eyes.

“To make amends I’m going to have to initiate another forfeit.”

The winners glanced at each other nervously.

“Max,” Alligator continued, “is going to have to lose a friend.”

Max spluttered and ruffled his hair with his fingers in frustration. His All2gethr friend list appeared on the monitor screens, scrolling up the screen rapidly.

“My, you’ve got quite a few to choose from haven’t you Max? You probably wouldn’t notice if a trimmed a few of these people off the list…”

The list stopped scrolling at the name of one of his friends. A profile photo was there for all the passengers to see. It showed a smiling man in his twenties, not much older than Max.

“Alan Williams. He’ll do. Bear with us.”

The monitors snapped off again, black screens reflecting the taught faces of the passengers.

They all turned to Max, looking tense.

Max tried to explain. “Look I had to try something, didn’t I? Thought I could contact someone at All2gethr…”

“And what, exactly? Lodge a formal complaint?” Dave said, incredulous.

“Can’t really blame him — after what they did to your friend Rory…” Jo said.

Dave looked at her blankly. “Come on love! They’re filming this for some reality TV show, it’s just a colossal wind-up! Hello Mum!” He waved into the tiny webcam embedded in the top of the touch screen’s casing then turned back to Jo. “Listen, there are probably a million people out there, laughing their arses off at us right now!”

Jo shook her head. “Dave, shut up! It looked real to me. Really real. I think we’re in serious trouble!”

“‘Serious trouble’?” he mocked, “He’s a bloody cartoon alligator!”

Right on cue, the Alligator’s voice oozed from the speakers again.

“I’d listen to Jo if I were you. She’s the expert. She likes to watch people put to death…”

Dave snorted. “He’s got your number, love…”

Jo lowered her eyes guiltily. “Don’t you start, and if you call me ‘love’ one more time…”

“You’ll what?” Dave said.

“You’re not even worth it. We’ve all heard about the kind of filth you get off on.”

Dave’s eyes glowered at her. For a moment he looked like he might actually raise a fist, then he turned away.

“Gwen thinks it’s real, don’t you Gwen?” Alligator countered.

Gwen remained in shocked silence, body stiffly upright in her seat.

“But still you watched didn’t you?” he went on, “Turned the other cheek like a good God-fearing girl…”

“What the hell is your problem?” Max spat.

Alligator rounded on him again.

“Max. You broke the rules. It is time to catch up with your friend Alan…”

Max and the other passengers watched as their screens pulled up a video-cam feed.

This time, the cameraman was in the corridor of an office building. Drab utilitarian decor was swamped in cold light from overhead fluorescents. The intruder peered around a corner, giving the passengers a camera-eye view of the corridor ahead. He must have been wearing the device on a headset.

Alan, his face recognisable from his All2gethr profile, was a few metres away, dragging a cleaning trolley up to the closed doors of an elevator. Bottles of cleaning fluid jostled next to cloths and refuse sacks on the trolley. He yawned, scratching his head as he pushed the call button. Without warning, the assailant sped towards Alan, camera-view shaking with each stride.

Whack!

The intruder swung his weapon, a heavy baseball bat, into the backs of Alan’s legs. His victim fell to the floor, crying out in agony.

“No! No!” Alan cried, as the attacker stabbed the end of the bat hard into his face, shattering his nose.

Blood gushed from the wound and Alan wiped at it pathetically as the intruder lifted the bat again. His cries were ignored again as his assailant rained heavy blows down on his legs, sharp cracks echoing across the empty corridor.

Alan lay on the floor, writhing in agony, his face stunned and his body contorted. He tried to move, but his limbs wouldn’t work. His attacker stomped on his shoulder before shaking an object in his free hand. It rattled loudly. An aerosol can — spray paint. He then bent over Alan and sprayed something across Alan’s chest, before roughly dragging him to his feet and shoving him through an emergency exit door to the side of the elevator doors.

The door smashed open, rebounding off the wall loudly as the attacker frogmarched Alan over to a metal railing atop a stairwell. His legs now broken and useless, Alan tried helplessly to beat at his attacker with his fists as the man behind the camera shoved him against the railing, hard. Alan’s throat emitted a terrified yelping sound as the attacker grabbed his broken legs painfully and flipped him clean over the railing. There was a hideous snapping sound and the attacker peered over the edge of the railing, still filming. The gentle whir of the zoom lens accompanied the cameraman’s sharp breaths as he zoomed in on the motionless form several floors below.

Alan’s body was like a broken doll, legs splayed out either side of him, bent back on themselves in a grotesque mockery of the human form. His smashed and contorted limbs were slowly being engulfed in the growing stain of his blood. The camera whirred again as the killer zoomed in on Alan’s chest — the letters ‘ROFL’ spray-painted there.

The video feed clicked off.

Max sat in brooding silence. Dave wiped a film of sweat from his furrowed brow. Gwen made a little heaving sound from behind her hand — she looked like she might throw up.

“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.