We need fuel, or I’d avoid the airport entirely. There’s still some left in the support vehicles – for now.
There’s aviation fuel too, but it went badly for the last tribe who syphoned it. The explosion was so large, it woke the twins. All those tears.
It’s the feeling of suspension that’s eerie, all the planes waiting to taxi. It’s as if the passengers just nipped off for a pint and will return any minute, sun cream packed, ready for two weeks on the beach.
What happened to them all?
At least we can hear the birds sing now.