Frazer Lee - Panic Button

He grinned down at his new Lucy, his teeth gleaming white as an alligator’s.

“Come on. Now you’ve had a good rest there are some people I’d like you to meet.”

Taking her tiny hand in his, he led her out of the room and up some concrete stairs.

He let go of the little girl’s hand and pushed at a trap door above their heads. He helped Sophie up via a little stepladder and into a garage. Seeing the girl’s nose wrinkle at the strong hospital smell inside the garage, he strode over to the corrugated metal door and slid it open over his head. Fresh air and blinding bright daylight flooded in.

Sophie covered her eyes with her arm in shock.

Rupert chuckled to see her look so pleased to be out and about. My little Lucy.

“Come along,” he said, “Let’s get you cleaned up. Then you can meet the rest of the family.”

“Here she is!”

Rupert Turner grinned from ear to ear as he led his new little Lucy into the kitchen.

His wife turned away from the kitchen sink, grabbing a little hand towel so she could dry off her hands.

Rupert beamed at her. She looked excited. He felt a swell of pride, recalling how brilliantly his wife had played the part of the limousine driver as he’d watched expectantly via his webcam feeds. He felt amused even now at her stern, motherly manner with the passengers, as she’d insisted they hand over their mobile phones. She would be delighted with her new daughter, especially now Soph… no, Lucy , was scrubbed up so nicely.

“Hello Lucy, I’m Annie. I’m going to be your Mum from now on — isn’t that nice?”

She smiled at Sophie, a joyful tear in her eye. Without giving the child a chance to reply, Annie called out into the adjoining room.

“Ed! Come and greet your sister!”

Rupert’s son entered the room. His gait was a little hesitant, borne of the strange tension that existed between him and his father after all they had done in recent days. His father had been judge and jury, and he the executioner. The luggage had been so heavy to load up on the private jet, once it was laden with human effluent. Ed smiled awkwardly at his father, then stooped down to greet the little girl. He ruffled her hair with his big fat fingers. His hand had the same persistent hospital smell as the odour in the garage.

Rupert corralled them into a neat group in the middle of the room.

Then he activated the little digital camera, which lay ready atop the kitchen table next to the fruit bowl. The little red light blinked three times then the room was lit with a blinding flash as the shutter activated.

Rupert dashed, excited, back to the table and picked up the camera to look. The four of them were pictured on the little view screen. A shame, their little Lucy had her eyes closed. She must have blinked when the flash went off.

No, matter, thought Rupert, there will be more family snaps to come. Enough for a lifetime.

He carried the camera over to show Lucy. They all smiled warmly at her, with great pride, as if welcoming a newborn child into the world for the very first time.

“Shall we?” Annie ventured.

Rupert put his jacket on and took Sophie firmly by the hand. He led her out of the front door, into the street. It was suburban road like any other, the branches of blossom trees swayed in the gentle breeze, little white petals raining down on them like confetti.

Annie and Ed walked alongside Sophie and Rupert. To a passer by, they would look like a normal family unit, out for a stroll.

Rupert felt his new daughter’s hand slipping from his fingers. He tightened his grip, holding her firm and thinking, I’ll never let you go, Lucy.

As they crossed the road together and walked to the playground, a plane screamed low overhead coming in to land.

Government officials are reporting that a private jet has crashed into the sea off the coast of Norway. It seems the Challenger 604 aircraft was flying at extremely low altitude in stormy weather when the cabin depressurised. Fatalities cannot so far be confirmed, and no representative from private jet Charter Company Deppart Airlines was available for comment at the time of going to press.

A viral video that apparently shows the events onboard Flight D-665 that led up to the crash has emerged online. Outbursts of extreme violence culminating in brutal bloody murder can be seen in the grainy video, which was first made available via online torrent groups. A number of Internet Service Providers have attempted to block the video, following a raft of complaints from child protection agencies and members of the public.

“These deplorable acts of violence are not the kind of material we want our children to see,” said Internet censorship campaigner Marcus Sebastian Shaw at a press conference earlier today, “Anyone watching or distributing this video is part of a larger problem and should be ashamed of themselves. The authorities should be doing more to protect us and our kids from such material.”

…an air crash investigation team official confirmed that many more bodies were found amidst the wreckage. This would apparently confirm that the air flight video is in fact genuine. With over 2 million views of the video to date, All2gethr is under increasing pressure to respond to claims that they could have prevented loss of life if they had acted sooner. News of the Planet has tried repeatedly to get a statement from an All2gethr representative, but no one has yet come forward…

Let us open a window on the world.

Zooming in, we might find a city — there, there’s one. Let’s look closer. A fleet of black cars is processing towards a large municipal building, a monument of red brick, glass and slate roof tile. Hundreds of insect forms are lining the entrance to the building, dressed in their finery.

Let’s zoom in a little closer.

The insects are mourners, crowds of them, come to share in their collective grief — over people they didn’t really, actually know. The cars stop, and the invited guests clamber out. They trail into the building — it is a church hall.

Why not open another window and take a peek inside?

Floral tributes are everywhere in great stifling bunches, sitting atop pedestals. A huge projector screen displays slide images of the passengers of Deppart Airlines Flight D-665, and their dead friends and family members. Living relatives and friends, some already sobbing into handkerchiefs, take their seats in neat rows.

The ceremony begins, and a man steps up to a lectern to address the crowd. He is in his fifties, and wears the collar and cloth of a priest. His facial expression can barely contain his pent-up anger and emotion. He glances at his dear wife, gaining strength enough to speak from the look in her eyes. He is Father Rhys — Gwen’s father.

“Our hearts go out to the families and friends of those affected by these terrible events,” he says.

He looks almost relieved to be getting the words out, his voice cracked with regret.

The slide changes on the screen to one of Mike, the unfortunate young man who had his arms hacked off.