I smiled at him, remembering the nervous moment the instructor had stepped from the plane for the first time and let me loose on my own. I mulled it over for a moment before replying, “I suppose if you put it like that, it’s nothing we haven’t both done before, and at least we’ll have each other to remind ourselves what to do.”
I looked him in the eye. “Are you happy to give it a go?”
He looked at Nicky, who took his hand in hers and nodded to him. He smiled, “Well, the boss says okay, so let’s do it. And look out the window, the weather’s about as good as it can get for flying.”
I stood and shook his hand, grinning in relief. If he’d been as nervous as me, it was a good sign. We would both be taking it very seriously and not letting overconfidence or complacency mar our judgment to the detriment of safety.
“Okay, mate, let’s go and get ready with the others.” Then I couldn’t help myself and added now that my nerves had faded a little, “But I’m still Maverick.”
Steve and his sergeants planned to use most of us for the mission. Five soldiers would stay behind to protect the castle, supported by all the children as sentries who would be overseen by Maud, Charles the vicar and Nicky, because her pregnancy ruled her out of going anywhere dangerous, by universal agreement. Everyone else was told to arm up and get ready to leave.
The airfield at Wellesbourne was only about fifteen minutes’ drive away under normal circumstances and we didn’t expect it to take much longer than that as we knew the vehicles we were taking could plough through most things we came across.
Waving goodbye to those remaining, after we’d loaded the last few items onto both Willie’s and Shawn’s trailers, both tractors and the armoured car drove once more through the castle grounds to the world beyond our sanctuary. Only a few more zombies had gathered at the entrance gate and they were quickly dispatched, although the smell emanating from the piles of rotting corpses surrounding it reminded us that we needed to do something about them, or they would become a health hazard. I looked horrified as swarms of rats scattered from our engine noise, skittering away to dive down drains or into the undergrowth.
Grim looks were exchanged. All the rotting the corpses would make ideal conditions for an explosion in the rat population as food for the voracious scavengers was now plentiful, combined with no local authority anymore to deal with it. Only us.
Another item to add to the list, I thought grimly.
The airfield was a former World War two base that had survived the closures and now operated as a private airfield for light aircraft. Several flying schools operated from it, including the one I’d used all those years ago. Following my directions, we skirted around the village that bore the airfield’s name and drove down the road that accessed it.
The area was eerily quiet, we’d only encountered a few undead on the journey and they’d been dealt with in the usual way; either by being run over or stabbed with a spear. Thanks to the castle, we now had a range of better spears, rather than the tried and trusted sharpened metal stakes we’d previously been using. The long hardwood-handled lances and boar spears that had adorned the walls of the castle proved once again that ancient weapons now had a firm place in the world we were living in. Training had already begun under the tutelage of the knights, on using them as well as the heavier pikes, which some had found too cumbersome to wield. We were all learning and inventing new and better ways for us to fight our new enemy.
The main carpark was thankfully deserted as our convoy drove into it. I suppose on the morning the apocalypse exploded across the United Kingdom, the last thought on anyone’s mind was to go for a pleasure flight.
I smiled nostalgically as I recognised the building that housed the flying school I’d used, remembering the many happy hours spent there.
All the drivers had been given instructions, including my roughly drawn map of the place, and knew where to go. Shawn stopped the tractor right outside the entrance to the building as the others pulled up alongside to protect us.
“Okay, guy’s, let’s do this,” I said to everyone in the trailer. The knights were first down the ramp once we’d lowered it into position and formed up around the door. A few blows from Geoff’s mace destroyed the lock and with a kick from him, the door swung open. After they’d entered and checked that the building contained no surprises, they waved me in. The place hadn’t changed in the years of my absence, so I went straight for the key safe where I knew I’d find the keys to their planes.
It wasn’t a heavy duty safe, only designed to keep all the keys in one place and it easily yielded to the crowbar I’d brought with me for this very purpose. Handily, all the keys had the model and unique registration codes of their relevant aeroplane on their labels and I sorted through them until I found several keys indicating they belonged to the type of plane that both Chris and I used to train in. We’d both chosen to use the larger four-seater low wing type rather than the smaller, more cramped two-seater high wing type. I knew the flying school had once had at least four of the type and when I was taking lessons, we used whichever one was available. The cockpit displays varied between them but the controls were all similar and so it didn’t matter which one we would use.
Once I had the keys, I searched for and found the maintenance log for the planes, hanging on a hook next to the key box. Of the three planes for which I’d found keys, one was reported in for maintenance, but two were available to fly. Looking through the window of the office that fronted the airfield, I tried to see the planes but couldn’t pick them out from the many that sat on the grass by the taxi way.
Opening cupboards, I soon found two headsets, a small folder and a laminated map. I stuffed them all into a bag I found and told the knights I had what I needed, and it was time to leave. I knew that the gate at one end of the carpark led to the airfield. The knights accompanied me, their armour chinking metallically as they walked beside me. A padlock secured it, but Jamie soon removed it with a cordless angle grinder he pulled from a bag he was carrying. Seconds later, I’d opened the gate and all the vehicles drove onto the airfield. I closed it and the knights joined me to jog beside the slow-moving vehicles until they came to a stop next to the airfield’s small control tower.
The benefit of good planning showed once those chosen for the next task had disembarked from the vehicles and formed their allocated groups, and we began phase two of the operation. While Wille drove his tractor with a team onboard the trailer around the entire airfield to check the whole place out, Shawn headed to the control tower, accompanied by two knights. Their job was to see if they could get the radio operational so that when Chris and I were flying, we could stay in contact. Chris and I, accompanied by a force of both knights and soldiers, went to find and inspect the planes.
Calling out the registration code for them, we walked down the lines of planes until we identified the two we were looking for. When we inspected them, one was easily our preferred choice. It was newer and had more up-to-date displays and instruments on the cockpit. With the others keeping watch, we inspected it carefully. As you would expect from a fully maintained flying school plane, everything seemed to be in good order. The log I had with me stated it had flown the day before the apocalypse hit, and the last act of the now probably dead or turned instructor was to top off the fuel tanks so it would be ready for the next day.
To be sure, we dipped the tanks in both wings and confirmed they were full.
I handed Chris the keys and the bag I’d filled and said, “Let’s see if we can start this baby, shall we? I’ll keep everyone away from the prop.”
Warning the others to stand clear, I watched as he climbed on board and began the starting sequence. After a few minutes, the starter motor whirred, and the propeller began it’s familiar stuttering, rotating as the engine turned over. The engine coughed a few times but after twenty seconds of trying, it failed to start. I wasn’t worried; aeroplane engines were fickle beasts at the best of times and never liked starting from cold
. I remembered a few times my instructor virtually flattening the battery attempting to start one until it eventually kicked into life.
Chris released the key, stopping the starting process, and fiddled with various settings on the cockpit before retrying. This time it sounded better as soon as he turned the key and soon the engine caught cleanly, and after Chris raised the revs for a few seconds, he pulled back the throttle and it steadied back to idle.
I could not help but cheer as the familiar engine sound excited me. I wasn’t worried or scared any more, but desperate to get in the air.
Willie drove towards us down the taxi way after completing his circuit of the airfield and I walked up to his cab. He turned off the engine and opened the door so he could speak to me.
“It’s all clear, laddie. The fence around the place has kept them out. A few can be seen wandering about beyond it and I’m sure all this noise we’re making will attract them, but I don’t think there are enough of them to worry us at the moment.” He looked at the plane that sat with its engine running and propeller turning. “You all set to go, then?” he asked with a grin. At my nod, he replied, “Rather you than me, my boy. I prefer to keep two feet on the ground now. I’ve spent more time than I like to remember sitting in the back of falling apart helicopters and planes, expecting to hit the next mountain, to be bothered with flying anymore.”
“Thank for the confidence boost,” I replied sarcastically and then turned as I spotted Shawn running towards me.
“Radio’s operational. All we had to do was wire it up to the genny we brought with us.” He, too, looked at the plane and asked the same question, “You good to go, then?”
“Yes, mate,” I replied, shrugging, nerves once more showing on my face after Willie’s comments had reminded me of the potential dangers once more. “I don’t think we can put it off anymore.”
“You’ll be fine,” he answered with more confidence than I felt and handed me a slip of paper. “It’s the frequency of the airfield. I’ll head back to the tower and we can do a comms check before you go.” He slapped me on the back as he turned and ran back to the tower.
I looked at the scrap of paper and recognised the frequency he’d written on it. It was the one I’d tuned the radio into many times in the past and I was surprised at my recollection of it.
Chris was in the left-hand pilot’s seat already with his headset on as I climbed in and put my rifle on the back seat, before sitting down in the right-hand seat and closing the door. The engine noise was muffled slightly, but he handed me my set of headphones he’d already plugged into the cockpit. Knowing it was easier to talk with them on, I waited until I’d fitted them before speaking.
“All set, mate?” I asked as I reached for the radio and turned it on.
“As good as we can be,” he answered with a nervous smile. Happily spotting that the radio was already turned to the correct frequency, I pressed the button to set the radio to broadcast on the control column and spoke.
“Maverick to tower. Can you hear me? Goose has the stick and is ready to fly.”
Shawn’s voice immediately replied, “If you two think you can get away thinking you’re in a Tomcat, when from here it looks like a child’s toy, then good luck to you.”
“Aw, come on man,” Chris said, laughing. “Let us dream, can you?”
“Have it your way, you idiots,” came the reply through our headsets. “We’re reading you loud and clear. Let me just get everyone out of the way and then Steve will escort you to the runway.”
This was the next part of the plan. We would be vulnerable on the ground so the armoured vehicle would stay close to us until we were airborne. They would then continue patrolling the airfield, keeping it clear until we returned.
“Give us five minutes to familiarise ourselves first, please,” replied Chris.
“Good call,” I said to him over the private channel. I looked at the displays, dials and controls on the cockpit in front of me. To the untrained eye, it would be a mass of unrecognisable, confusing instruments and initially they were to me until I spotted the location of the important ones first and then went through the rest, reminding myself of their use and function.
Then I remembered the folder and map I’d found when I was searching for the headsets. Seeing Chris had put the bag on the back seat, I reached over and pulled out my finds and showed them to Chris, who immediately said, “Good find, that’ll help.” The folder contained the standard preflight checklist, setting out in order the meticulous but standardised process you went through to ensure the plane was ready and fit to fly. Eventually we had gone through the list carefully and methodically; checking everything twice, just to be sure. We both studied the windsock to work out which runway to use and spent a few minutes studying the flight map to familiarise Chris with the area. I’d spent many hours flying around the region and knew that with today’s excellent visibility, we could fly from landmark to landmark and probably not need the map at all, but it made sense to do so. I did try the satellite navigation system, but it disappointingly, though not unexpectedly, didn’t work.
Chris looked at me. “Ready mate?”
“Yes,” came my one-word reply.
He pressed the broadcast button. “Shawn we’re ready. We’ll go right and use that runway.” To emphasise that fact and knowing Shawn was most likely studying us through binoculars, I pointed in the direction we needed to go.
“Okay, guys,” he replied immediately, “Steve is ready to escort you.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Between ourselves, we’d agreed that Chris should attempt the first take-off, since he was the one with the more recent flying experience. I sat quietly by his side with my hands away from the controls as he applied power, and the aircraft picked up speed.
In no time, the familiar sensation of leaving solid ground made me smile. As we gained altitude, I felt my confidence return as memories kicked in. The plan was to perform a few circuits of the airfield to build our confidence and then we would practise a few touch-and-gos and if we were still happy, we would begin the mission.
I looked across at Chris. His face was set in a frown of deep concentration and I could see the whites of his knuckles as he held the steering column in a vice-like grip. I patted him on the leg.
“Well done, mate,” I said as I got his attention and he glanced towards me. “Now let’s do a few circuits of the airfield.”
I could see the tension flood from him at my reassurance and his grip on the column loosened and his face changed to one of accomplishment and relief.
“Thanks, pal,” he replied. “Do you want to take over?”
“No, mate, not yet, you’re doing just fine. Let’s stick to the plan and I’ll observe you for a while to fully refresh myself,” I said, my voice now full of the confidence I could feel growing inside.
Twenty minutes later, we’d both completed a few circuits of the airfield and practised a few touch-and-go landings each until we were as confident as we could be that we could fly further afield. The visibility was excellent, and I’d marked on an Ordinance Survey map the location the Royal Navy wanted us to investigate first to see if the rescue missions they hoped to undertake for the personnel trapped in them were viable.
While we were flying, we kept a continual conversation going with Shawn and the others who were monitoring the radio in the airfield’s tower. We both took the compliments about how smooth our landings had been with a pinch of salt, as I knew mine in particular had been a little bouncy.
With the map held in my hands, I checked the compass on the control panel and compared it with the handheld one I had pressed against the map.
“If we use Warwick as our marker,” I said, with my brow once more furrowed with concentration, “I’ll call out landmarks and bearings as I see them. Does that sound a good idea, Chris?”
“Sure,” he replied, “the castle will be a great marker.” He smiled as he continued, “And if we do a fly-by, it’ll let them know we
at least managed to take off.”
“You mean it’ll stop Nicky worrying, more like.”
“Yes, alright then,” he signed theatrically, “that too. Okay then, navigator, point me in the right direction, my good fellow,” he commanded, adopting his poshest Royal Airforce accent. I looked out of the window and pointed at the town of Warwick, distant but clearly visible from our height.
“That way, my dearest chap,” I replied, mimicking his accent. The plane banked and we left the airfield behind.
I waved out of the window at Stanley and Daisy, who had climbed to the highest tower on the castle along with the rest of the children when we’d first flown overhead. Our young audience looked up and waved their arms about in excitement.
Chris had slowed down as much as he could and was flying a number of slow, banked circuits of the castle while I was using my phone, which I’d charged for this purpose, to take pictures of the castle so we could study our new home from a different viewpoint and maybe see any improvements we could make.
I took control for the last circuit so Chris could wave at Nicky, who was standing in the middle of the courtyard waving back as excitedly as everyone else. Having already worked out our required heading and with a last few dips of the wings, I settled the plane on its new course. With the slight crosswind that was blowing across our nose, we knew we would have to make frequent adjustments to compensate for it and so needed to judge our progress using landmarks and the maps Chris, as the current navigator, had laid on his lap to pinpoint our current position as we flew over them.
I increased and lowered our altitude until we reached a height we both agreed gave us the best view of the land below us and the horizon in front of us, so we could plot a good way ahead to make navigation easier. We didn’t want to miss any signs of survivors.
Zombie Castle Series (Book 4): ZC Four Page 15