People assumed there was safety in numbers. It was time to test that theory.
Nina Banerjee leaned towards a group of students heading off to Spain and laughed at something one of them said… in a language she didn’t understand.
All the while, her eyes tracked two men standing by the entrance of Glasgow’s international airport. The man on the left had his head buried in a woollen cap. His jacket sat unzipped, showing off a mermaid T-shirt stretched across his rounded belly.
It took Nina one nanosecond to recognise him – he’d been the cabbie who’d driven her to the airport.
His companion – another familiar face – was sporting a leather jacket, a spiky hairdo and combat boots. This guy was the creep who’d followed and attacked Nina that night.
She shook her head, clearing it of those memories. Strands of her black bob brushed against her cheek. She couldn’t afford to lose her focus. Those men weren’t about to hop on a wee plane. No, they were here looking… for her. Shite!
Nina got off the escalator on the top floor, struggling with her twisted backpack strap. She scanned her ticket at the gates, which beeped and spilled her into an area packed with people and alive with the screams of scanners.
Of all the times this airport could’ve been busy, it had to be now? Glasgow’s airport might be serving international passengers, but it appeared half the size of just one of Heathrow’s terminals. So where the hell had all these people come from?
Cursing, she joined the queue at the last security station and turned to keep an eye on the entrance, waiting for the men to push through. She expected them to come at her like bulls at the red flag. All she could rely on were the cameras scanning everything and everyone…
But fuck! She dipped her chin low, knowing that even though she was staring at her feet, a camera or a trained eye could be watching her.
And after waking up covered in someone else’s blood, surely multiple policing agencies would be looking for her.
Nina stared at her fingers and gasped. She hadn’t grabbed a shower before running out of her flat, and scrubbing her hands under the cold trickle of a tap hadn’t done the trick. Blood was still lodged beneath her nails, dried now into a sickening shade of dark chocolate.
Did they scan passengers at airports for human blood? Could she pretend she’d eaten a Snickers bar earlier and hadn’t wiped her hands clean?
Nina balled her hands into fists and stepped towards the conveyor belt. The security guard gave her a once-over as if to say, ‘Well, are you just going to stand there?’
Come on, Nina! The weirder you act, the more you draw attention!
She tucked her coat into the rectangular basket, then settled her backpack and Jonas’s camera bag next to it. Jonas… Had she killed him too?
Nina swallowed. For fuck’s sake, focus! She set her black boots into the next container. Then she pushed both onto the conveyor belt and stepped through. The scanner buzzed. The official asked, ‘Are you wearing a belt, ma’am?’
No, but she’d forgotten to take off her watch. Damn it! Her things were still queued, so she dropped her watch into her backpack and, clutching her passport and tickets, stepped through once more.
The scanner buzzed again.
Nina curled her fingers around the passport, trying her best to hide the blood. She peered over her shoulder. Mr Cabbie and Mr Creep had lined up at the security counter beside hers, their hands devoid of any luggage. Their queue moved up.
More passengers walked past Nina while she was instructed to, ‘Please step on here.’
Nina’s things disappeared into the X-ray baggage scanner, and she stood for a quick body scan – legs shoulder-width apart and hands to the side, elbows pointed away from her.
By this time, Creep had breezed through security, and his pal was next up.
So much for being safe at security.
‘Come through, ma’am.’
