by Frank Tayell
“I wouldn’t know what, even if I wanted,” Scott said. He raised his voice to address the group. “Come to wave us goodbye?”
“To come with you,” the professor said.
“All of you?”
“We have our tickets,” Vernadski said. “But I would advise you speak to your customs agents. They… they…” He snapped his fingers. “They let us through without once asking whether we packed our bags ourselves.”
Lev gave a dutiful laugh. Scott gave a smile. Amber glared at Starwind, while the young Frenchwoman barely managed not to break out in laughter.
“You want to come to Belfast with us?” Scott asked.
“It will be easier to negotiate in person,” the professor said.
“My daughter, it was her idea,” Claire said, turning to smile at Starwind who, in turn, bit her lip against the laughter. “She thought… ah…”
“That this is diplomacy,” the professor said. “And, for that, we should send diplomats who are dressed for the role. She found the clothes for us herself.”
With that, Starwind turned away, but managed to turn a guffaw into a cough.
“Amber, walk the runway, check it isn’t iced up,” Scott said quickly. “Starwind, you can help her.”
When they were out of earshot, Claire sighed. “I… I know this is how the villains dress. It pleased my daughter.” She shrugged.
The professor brushed down the front of her coat. “I like it,” she said with firm diplomacy. “It is presidential. Very presidential, since it is what a president is wearing.”
“The things we do for our children,” Scott said. “We’re ready to go if you are. I’ve packed weapons, ammo, and water, but we’re not planning to land today. We’ll fly over France, over the horde, across the Channel, then England, clipping Wales before crossing the Irish Sea. We’ve enough fuel to circle Belfast, but then we’ll head southwest to Kenmare Bay, buzzing them before coming back here to land. If you’ve made up your minds, you better get aboard.”
“Olga made us lunch,” Lev said, as he waited to board.
“That’s kind of her, but keep it packed until we see what the weather is like.”
He hung back as they boarded the small plane.
“I couldn’t dissuade them,” Salman whispered. “I tried, but they insisted on coming.”
“How are things in town?” Scott asked.
“People are asking what next,” Salman said. “Or where next. I don’t think Vernadski had a plan beyond getting people to those supplies. Can’t say I blame him. It’s not like we’ve much of a plan of our own. How dangerous will this get?”
“Flying is safer than driving,” Scott said. “Especially driving south to the Pyrenees.”
“Let me put that another way,” Salman said. “These are the leaders. If they die, there’ll be chaos. They’re only coming because time is running out. They want to land today, make an agreement, and get a new plan in place before fear sets in and more people disappear into the mountains.”
“Then we better get moving,” Scott said, “because they’re already aboard.”
It was glorious being in the air again. Soaring gracefully through the clouds. Serene. Tranquil. Utterly peaceful.
“Starwind,” the professor said, from the small cabin behind the cockpit, speaking in English for the benefit of everyone else. “Do you have your tablet computer with you?”
“Oui, dans mon sac,” Starwind said.
“In your bag?” the professor replied. “Oh, wonderful. On a flight, I always enjoy watching a movie. Perhaps we could all watch one of those programmes you like. That one about the vampires? You were saying we should see it, and now would be the perfect time.”
Now it was Scott’s turn attempting not to laugh.
“Um…” Starwind began, as she also began a very slow search of her bag.
“Sorry, no,” Amber said. “I… I ran the battery down and forgot to charge it.”
“Oh? A pity,” the professor said. “Another time, though, Starwind.”
“Scott,” Salman said quietly from the co-pilot’s seat. “Can you bring us lower.”
“Why?”
“I think that’s the horde below us,” the sergeant said.
Scott leaned forward, peering to the side of the cockpit window. “Are you…” He saw it. The muddy slashes torn through the countryside. Swathes of heaving icy-brown. Wispy low clouds concealed a large portion of the view, but below them was desolation.
“One hundred years ago, it can’t have looked as bad as this,” Salman said. “I can’t see any towns. Any roads. I can’t… I can’t find the rivers.”
“I can bring us down lower,” Scott said. “But we’ll burn more fuel.”
“Then don’t,” the professor said from the rear. Their voices had clearly carried. Scott turned around. Everyone was peering through the plane’s small porthole windows.
“No,” the professor continued. “We must remain focused on the future. But tomorrow, when we return, can we have cameras attached to the wings?”
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Scott said. “I’m sure I can rig something.”
He turned forward, leaning back in the chair so that he, personally, could only see clouds disappearing into the horizon.
“What happens next?” Salman asked.
“Hmm? What’s that?” Scott asked.
“Did I say that aloud?” Salman said. “I was just thinking about what’ll happen after we land.”
There was a click and clunk behind them, then footsteps.
“I was wondering the same,” Vernadski said. “Sergeant, perhaps I could swap with you for a few minutes?”
“Of course, sir,” Salman said, getting up, and making way for Vernadski.
“Where are we, Mr Higson?” Vernadski said.
“Over England,” Scott said. “We’ve not long to go.”
“And what does happen then?” Vernadski asked.
“You’re the leader,” he said. “You and the professor. I’m just the pilot.”
“Indeed,” Vernadski said. “And as a pilot, an… an…” He snapped his fingers. “As an expert, your opinion is valued, and so I am seeking it now. Can we fly everyone from Bern to Belfast?”
“Theoretically?” Scott mulled it over for a few minutes and a few dozen miles. “Maybe. It all comes down to finding the least amount of risk to achieve the sought-for goal in the shortest amount of time. Counting Belfast and your own people, or those I’ve met, I’d say we’ve got eight pilots I’d trust to run an airlift. There aren’t any planes in Belfast we can use. In Bern, I think I can repair that 737. Maybe the Airbus. Maybe a few more of the smaller jets, but they’re as small as this, so the time isn’t worth the effort. Call it a week to get the larger planes in the air. Assume a hundred and twenty on the 737, six hundred on the Airbus, and the passengers can bring their gear with them, too. Call it seven-fifty each flight, and we’d need to make at least thirty trips to get everyone to Belfast.”
“Do we have the fuel?” Vernadski asked.
“Nope. And we don’t have the runway,” Scott said. “Not in Belfast. That road will do for a couple of landings, but not by anything as big as an Airbus.”
“We need a proper airport?” Vernadski said.
“We do,” Scott said. “But if you want my opinion…”
“That is why I am asking.”
“Then forget Belfast,” Scott said.
“Since that is our current destination, that would be… be… it is counterintuitive.”
“The way we get everyone to Belfast is by sea,” Scott said. “They did it before, with the trip from Anglesey. We need to get everyone from Bern to the coast.”
“To Spain?”
“The Mediterranean,” Scott said.
“They believe it was a target during the nuclear war,” Vernadski said.
“The Mediterranean is a big place,” Scott said. “We’ve got the planes, so we can use them to find a runway on one of the islan
ds. Use the helicopter to ferry in troops to clear it of the undead, use the planes to fly in more. We’ve only got to hold the island until the ships arrive, but maybe we’ll find somewhere we can hold a lot longer. Somewhere with better weather than Ireland. It’d be the same effort as flying people to Belfast, but with more of a prize at the end.”
“An interesting idea,” Vernadski said. “Though it presupposes that there is an island in the Mediterranean which is habitable.”
“True, but life is a gamble,” Scott said. “And you can only lose once.”
“But if we lost, now,” Vernadski said, “that is the end of our species. Thank you, I will consider what you said.”
“Buckle up,” Scott said. “We’re coming up on Ireland. I’ll bring her in low, following the coast.”
“You know what to look for?” Vernadski asked.
“A city,” Scott said. “Shouldn’t be hard to miss. Eyes open for… oh.”
He saw Belfast. What remained of it.
“A fire,” Vernadski said. “Is that the harbour? It burned down.”
“Must have done,” Scott said, bringing the plane lower. “I’ll bring her around, and over the city again. Keep an eye out for smoke. For people.”
The fire was long since burned out, and not even a wisp of smoke rose from the dead city. There were figures, though. A handful, rising from the ashes as the roaring plane soared overhead.
“It’s gone,” Scott said, bringing the plane up and into another turn. “They left.”
“I can not see any… any… ships,” Vernadski said. “They had ships, yes?”
“They did.”
“And the ships are gone, so some survived,” he said.
“But they aren’t here,” Scott said. “I’m taking us back to Bern.”
“And this other place, in the southwest?” Vernadski said. “They might have gone there?”
“Kenmare Bay. They might,” Scott said. “But there’s nowhere to land there. The only place that we might have been able to land was that stretch of road outside Belfast. Down in Kenmare Bay, I don’t even know if there’s a road straight enough. We’d have to fly over once a day, and might use up all our fuel until they signalled a landing strip was prepared. Sorry, no. It would risk too many lives.”
“And waste too much time,” Vernadski said. “If you can hold the plane steady, I will go into the cabin and speak with the professor, but yes, I think we should return to Bern.”
Alone in the cockpit, Scott turned the plane east. It was almost homeward. Almost.
Something had happened in Belfast. Some accident that had begun a fire. How didn’t matter, because the ships were gone. They might be in Kenmare Bay, but if they were, they wouldn’t be for long. He knew where they were going: America. It was a journey on which he couldn’t join them.
He felt sorry for Bill, Sorcha, and Chester. They might not have reached Belfast. They might be down there, even now, looking up at the plane overhead. But there was nothing he could do to help them. They would have to help themselves. No, he had to stay focused on the mission. It was the same mission that had had Chester traipsing the English countryside looking for survivors; that had Starwind and Adrianna build their watchtowers; that had Sorcha Locke and Lisa Kempton devote their lives to stopping an apocalypse that had occurred despite them: save humanity, or at least enough that civilisation might stand a chance of survival.
A noble sentiment, of course, but it didn’t help decide what they should do next.
He knew what he wanted. For the first time since the outbreak, his mind was made up. In Starwind, and in Amber, he’d seen an echo of his daughter. And in that echo, he knew she could look after herself. His duty was to find his son.
He glanced at the compass. East. It wasn’t the direction of home, not quite. But he was getting closer. He wouldn’t reach Australia today, tomorrow, or even this week, and probably not in this plane, but soon. Yes, soon, he would return home.
To be continued.
Other Titles
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Other novels:
Surviving The Evacuation & Here We Stand
The outbreak began in New York. Within days, it had spread throughout the world. Nowhere is safe from the living dead. Books 1-3 are the journals of Bill Wright, a political operative trapped in London after the city is evacuated. Books 4-7 follow Nilda, a mother searching the wasteland for her son, and Chester, a criminal in search of repentance. Books 8 onward recount how humanity’s last survivors build a new society out of the ashes of the old world.
Here We Stand is the story of the North American survivors, and the collapse of the United States. Outback Outbreak begins the struggles of the survivors in the Pacific
1: London, 2: Wasteland, Zombies vs The Living Dead, 3: Family, 4: Unsafe Haven, 5: Reunion, 6: Harvest, 7: Home, Here We Stand 1: Infected, Here We Stand 2: Divided, Book 8: Anglesey, 9: Ireland, 10: The Last Candidate, 11: Search and Rescue, 12: Britain’s End, 13: Future’s Beginning, 14: Mort Vivant, 15: Where There’s Hope 16: Unwanted Visitors, Unwelcome Guests & Outback Outbreak
Post-apocalyptic Detective novels:
Strike a Match
In 2019, the AIs went to war. Millions died before a nuclear holocaust brought an end to their brief reign of terror. Billions more succumbed to radiation poisoning, disease, and the chaotic violence of that apocalypse. Some survived. They rebuilt.
Twenty years later, civilization is a dim shadow of its former self. Crime is on the rise, aided by a shadowy conspiracy. It is down to Detectives Mitchell, Riley, and Deering of the Serious Crimes Unit to unmask the conspirators and save their fragile democracy.
1. Serious Crimes, 2. Counterfeit Conspiracy, 3. Endangered Nation
Work Rest Repeat
Sixty years after The Great War, the last survivors of humanity have taken shelter in giant towers. The colony ships that will allow them to leave the diseased Earth are nearing completion when two murders are discovered. For our species to survive, the criminals must be caught, and the launch must go ahead.
Thanks for reading.