Desolation

by Mark Campbell

  Jerri frowned and waited for a few minutes before finally standing up. He reached under her blanket and pulled out the small pair of scissors she had managed to take from the first aid kit just seconds before Andrew had walked in earlier.

  She stared down at the scissors and mulled over her thoughts. They were short but had a point; they weren’t the ideal weapon but they would have to do.

  Jerri staggered along the side of the cargo hold, supporting herself on the Lazarus devices as she walked. Each step made her dizzy and her stomach was consumed with a ravenous hunger. After several minutes, she finally reached the bulkhead door that led into the rest of the plane.

  She held the scissors between her teeth and grabbed the latch bar with both hands.

  The door was locked. She was trapped.

  41

  Andrew swayed as he stumbled along the center of the second partition of the plane. The area was shorter than the main cargo area in the rear of the aircraft and was empty. Windows were sparse. Gunmetal benches lined both sides of the plane with nylon seat belts to accommodate troop transport. Numerous empty army duffel bags were stuffed underneath the benches. At the far end of the area were male and female restroom stalls. In-between the two stalls stood the door that led into the massive cockpit.

  Andrew glanced over at the female restroom stall; it was where he stashed the soldier he killed. A minuscule puddle of blood seeped out from underneath the door but he didn’t think anybody would notice.

  Coughing, Andrew staggered his way to the cockpit door, turned the handle, and stepped inside. He made sure to hide his swollen hand inside his flight jacket.

  The cockpit was much larger than that of a typical commercial airliner. There was a communications station on the right side and a map desk on the left; both stations were unmanned. Two pilots sat behind the controls at the front of the plane and both looked haggard and tired as they stared blankly at the illuminated gauges and instruments.

  Both of the pilots seemed to ignore the amber fuel warning light that flashed on the display.

  One of the pilots turned and gave a passing glance towards Andrew before focusing ahead once again.

  “Everything kosher back there?” one of the pilots, Jonathan, asked.

  “Yeah, nothing seems to be shifting around so I think the straps are going to hold,” Andrew replied, voice raspy through the gas mask. The second pilot, Wayne, chuckled.

  “I think it’s safe to take that thing off by now,” Wayne said. “If one of those tanks was going to rupture it would have done it by now.” “I feel safer keeping it on,” Andrew replied quietly. “I don’t see how,” Jonathan said. “I hate those fucking things. My visor gets all fogged up and it feels like a sauna in there. I’d rather take my chance with the gas. If it’s my time it’s my time.”

  “Yeah, well, you know…” Andrew said, coughing.

  “You don’t have to explain. We get it,” Wayne interrupted with a smirk. “You’re a pussy. But that’s okay.” Jonathan laughed.

  “You’re such an asshole sometimes,” Jonathan said. Wayne chuckled.

  “I’m just messing with him,” Wayne said passively.

  Ignoring them both, Andrew peered out the window. The world below looked lush and green. Tall trees towered into the sky and small towns were overgrown with vegetation. Toppled trees and rusted vehicles speckled the interstate below. In the distance he saw snow capped mountains enshrouded by fog. In its desolation there was a certain beauty. One thing was for sure, he knew they were a long away from Arizona.

  Andrew winced as his hand throbbed and pain radiated up his arm.

  “How much longer?” Andrew asked, gritting his teeth through the pain. They had been flying for what felt like an eternity.

  “We should be there within the next hour,” Jonathan said. “Which is good…” Wayne said as he tapped the fuel gauge. “Otherwise we’d be doing a permanent layover in the forest.” Andrew looked over at the empty communication’s desk. “Any word from the Capital yet?”

  Jonathan and Wayne both shook their heads.

  “The coms have been down on this bird for months,” Jonathan said. “We’d have better luck sending them smoke signals.”

  Andrew coughed violently and stumbled backwards. “Are you okay? You’ve been coughing an awful lot,” Wayne said with slight hesitation. “I’m fine… I just have an infection,” Andrew explained. The pilots looked at each other with concern.

  “It’s nothing serious so calm down. It’s… stupid really,” Andrew reassured. “I cut myself and it got infected. It’s my fault for being a klutz.” “Well after we land they’ll have you pumped out of your head with antibiotics so you’ll be fine,” Jonathan said.

  Andrew nodded.

  “That’s what I’m counting on. I’m going to go keep an eye on things back there until we land,” Andrew said. “See you in a bit.” Andrew lurched out of the room and shut the door behind him. “I think it’s a good thing that he’s keeping his mask on after all,” Wayne whispered to Jonathan. “Do you buy that bullshit story?” Jonathan shrugged. “I don’t have to buy it one way or the other,” Jonathan said. “When we land they’ll strip us down and medically screen us. That’s the protocol. If he’s lying and was bit and they find out…”

  “Bang,” Wayne said, nodding.

  “Exactly,” Jonathan said. “If he turns before we land in the next twenty minutes or so then I’ll shoot him myself.”

  Wayne laughed.

  “Now that I don’t believe,” Wayne said with a smirk. “You’re a liberal bitch when it comes to shit like that.”

  “Keep talking shit, Wayne, and I’ll save a bullet for you,” Jonathan said as he glared over at him.

  Both men burst out laughing and then fell back into an uneasy silence.

  Andrew sat on one of the benches outside the cockpit and folded his arms across his chest.

  He looked over at the bulkhead door that led into the rear storage compartment of the plane. He felt guilty about locking Jerri in there but he really couldn’t risk having her run around and blowing his cover. He tried to think of a good way to smuggle her into the Capital but he had trouble keeping his thoughts straight.

  He had to deal with his own problems before he could deal with hers. Andrew closed his eyes and massaged his temples. He knew that his infection was probably worse than he realized, but he also knew that he wasn’t technically bitten so he stood a chance. All he really needed was some strong drugs and he knew that the Capital could provide them.

  He knew he would have to lie to get access to the drugs but in the grand scheme of things fooling a few soldiers and doctors would be child’s play.

  He was too close and he had come too far to fail.

  42

  Wayne stepped out of the cockpit scratching his flabby stomach. Once a portly man, malnutrition and starvation had whittled away at him and left large flaps of skin hanging off of his gangly frame.

  He looked over at Andrew and frowned. Andrew was slouched on the bench with his eyes closed. How anybody could sleep through the rough ride was beyond Wayne’s understanding.

  Wayne walked over to Andrew and tapped his shoulder. “Get up,” Wayne grumbled.

  Andrew kept his head slouched down and his eyes closed, unconscious. His clothes were soaked with sweat.

  “Wake up!” Wayne shouted.

  Andrew startled awake and erupted into a coughing spasm. His gas mask instantly fogged with spittle. Wayne stepped back in revulsion.

  “Nasty son of a bitch,” Wayne grumbled, shaking his head.

  “I’m sorry,” Andrew slurred through his mask. “Is everything okay?” “I just came to tell you to strap your ass down. We’ll be landing shortly,” Wayne said. “We’re about ten minutes away and about to break through the clouds.”

  “Thanks for the heads up,” Andrew replied.

  Wayne mumbled and shook his head and sauntered back into the cockpit. He slammed the door shut behind him.

  A
ndrew’s scattered thoughts turned towards Jerri. “Shit,” he murmured. He was angry at himself for being so sloppy and careless. Instead of napping he knew that he should have done something about the girl. Never mind the corpse he left hidden in one of the bathroom stalls; given Andrew’s scrambled feverish mental state, he had forgotten all about it.

  He glanced out one of the plane’s small circular windows and saw that the sun was beginning to set. He looked down underneath the bench he was sitting on and stared at the empty green army duffel bags that were stuffed under the expanse of the benches on both sides of the plane.

  It was a sloppy hiding space but it would have to do. Andrew forced himself off of the bench and stumbled towards the cargo bulkhead door. He threw himself against the large locking bar and slid it aside, coughing all the while.

  The heavy door cracked open. “Jerri,” Andrew whispered hoarsely into the dark room, trying to peer through the shadows. He squinted but couldn’t get his eyes to adjust. “Come out of there! I have to hide you. We’re almost there.”

  There was no response.

  He grew increasingly annoyed.

  Just as he was about to step into the room, the cockpit door flung open and Jonathan stared at him with a pale expression.

  “You better come see this,” Jonathan said anxiously. Andrew startled and spun towards the cockpit. He nodded and pulled the bulkhead door shut again and made his way towards the cockpit taking labored breaths, curious. In his haste he forgot to slide the locking bar back in place.

  When Andrew reached the cockpit he almost fell onto the floor as a wave of nausea and dizziness overwhelmed him. He managed to catch himself on the doorway and tried to steady his breathing.

  Andrew walked up between the two pilot seats and stared down at the ground below. The shadowy remnants of Bismarck, North Dakota sprawled across the land for miles. The few buildings that once composed Bismarck’s skyline had been ravaged by artillery fire and were reduced to decaying husks. Nature reclaimed the fractured city streets as vines entombed the countless abandoned vehicles and encroached up the sides of the vacant buildings.

  A few miles north of the city Andrew spotted Camp 7. The majority of Camp 7’s complex was composed of row after row of featureless concrete tenements with an expansive monolithic control tower centered in the middle. The tower was crowned with antennas and satellite dishes. On the left side of the tower sat the dining hall, a hospital, and the gallows. Running down the middle of the camp was a runway complete with multiple aircraft hangers. A towering concrete wall complete with guard towers and topped with triple rows of razorwire encircled the entire complex.

  The massive facility made Camp 6 look miniscule in comparison. Just outside the camp’s walls stood two large grain silos adorned with the FEMA logo and acres of wheat, corn, and other plants that Andrew couldn’t make out. A series of irrigation piping covered the seemingly endless fields and numerous tractors and farm equipment peppered the landscape.

  Andrew’s eyes welted with tears and his hands shook uncontrollably. The Capital was everything he had hoped for. “I did it,” Andrew said in awe, coughing. “I… I made it. I’m here. Everything is going to be okay…” Wayne cocked an eyebrow and looked up at Andrew. Curious as to why the deranged man was so elated, he stared out the window in apprehensive silence.

  Vines had snaked their way up the sides of Camp 7’s derelict perimeter wall and the guard towers appeared to have been abandoned for quite some time. Moss and debris was ensnared in the rusty razorwire and large sections of the wall had crumbled away. Aside from a few scattered lights, the moldy concrete tenements looked dark and most of their windows were shattered. Fire appeared to have gutted the massive control tower standing in the center of the camp and the hospital looked abandoned. The streets were piled with garbage and the light poles stood askew, many toppled. The landing strip was covered with mud and most of the hangers had collapsed in on themselves.

  Outside of the camp, two empty weather-beaten grain silos stood crooked and covered with mildew. Acres of dead fields, twisted irrigation piping, and broken-down farm equipment covered the arid land.

  The pilots stared in disappointment while Andrew’s eyes welted with tears.

  As the pilots contemplated their next move, the low-fuel alarm started chiming steadily.

  Begrudgingly, the pilots started the craft’s descent with sunken expressions.

  As the plane’s altitude lowered, a series of red runway lights lit up the landing strip below, beckoning the plane closer.

  “See? They’re waiting for us,” Andrew said, delighted. Wayne and Jonathan exchanged an uneasy glance and fastened their belts.

  “Just…. go strap in,” Wayne told Andrew in a listless, defeated voice.

  A chill ran up the back of Andrew’s spine and his blood turned icy as sudden realization dawned on him once more.

  “Fuck,” Andrew cursed between his clenched teeth. He had to get to the back and hide the girl fast. Coughing loudly, he spun around… Jerri was standing there, waiting. In her hand she held the scissors she had managed to take from the first aid kit. Before Andrew could react, Jerri quickly brought the scissors up against the side of his neck and pressed the blade into his skin just enough to draw a bead of blood.

  Andrew winced and quickly held his hands up in a sign of surrender. He made no attempt to reach for his pistol.

  “What are you doing, Jerri?” Andrew asked in a calm voice. The two pilots turned towards the sound of the commotion and their eyes widened.

  Jonathan, the only pilot who was armed, quickly reached for his holstered pistol. “Don’t,” Jerri warned. “If you move another inch I’ll kill him.” Jonathan froze.

  “Who the fuck are you?!” Wayne asked Jerri, really wishing he had a sidearm. “Stay calm. She’s just a civilian I picked up from the camp. She’s not going to hurt anybody. Just do what she wants,” Andrew said calmly. He kept his arms raised with his open palms facing her.

  “And you decided not to say anything about a fucking stowaway?!” Wayne shouted.

  “I promised her that I would get her to safety,” Andrew said without taking his eyes off of Jerri.

  “Imagine that,” Jerri said. She reached up and tore the gas mask off of Andrew’s face. His face was pale, soaked with sweat, and blood dribbled out of both of his nostrils. The skin around his eyes was black and puffy. His lips were ashen.

  Jonathan and Wayne briefly looked at Andrew and couldn’t place the face but didn’t really care; they had more pressing concerns at the moment.

  The craft, controls unattended, wobbled. Wayne, hands shaking, turned his attention back towards the controls with a focused intensity. He was determined to land and put an end to the theatrics unfolding behind him, attempting to ignore the altercation altogether and focus his attention where it was needed.

  The plane steadied and continued its descent.

  Jonathan left the flying to Wayne and kept his attention solely on Jerri with his hand resting on his holstered pistol.

  Andrew stared at her sternly.

  “What’s this about, Jerri?” he asked, coughing. “What do you want?” “I want you to step out of the cockpit,” Jerri replied coldly. She glared at the two pilots. “And I want them to keep this plane in the air! Don’t land at the camp!”

  Jonathan scoffed.

  “You lost your fucking mind if you think we’re going to take orders from you!” Jonathan exclaimed. Wayne didn’t respond and kept his hands wrung tightly around the yoke as the craft dropped altitude; his knuckles were turning white and sweet beaded across his forehead.

  Jerri stepped towards Andrew and pressed the blade deeper into his skin, drawing more blood.

  Andrew didn’t seem fazed.

  “Step out and get out of my way,” Jerri ordered again. “I don’t want to hurt you but I will if you don’t move.”

  Andrew grinned at her, hands still raised. “We both know that you’re not going to do anything,” Andrew said. �
��Besides… we’re almost there so just stop with the charade and give me the scissors before you end up getting hurt.”

  “I’m not going to ask you again,” Jerri said as she kept the blade pressed against him. Her hand was shaking.

  Andrew lowered his arms some and broke out into a coughing spasm, covering her face with spittle.

  “Jerri… Stop,” Andrew said in a gentle tone. “Just stop. You want to see Jacob again, right?” Jerri scowled.

  “You’re so full of shit,” she said bitterly.

  Andrew frowned.

  “Enough of this,” Andrew said. He snatched Jerri’s wrist and squeezed tightly, pulling her hand away from his neck. He dug his fingers into her skin and forced her to grip to loosen and made her drop the scissors. “I tried to be gentle with you. I tried to get you to see reason but you forced my hand. If you want to end up on the gallows then that’s your choice.”

  Jerri let out an agonizing cry as Andrew’s grip tightened around her slender wrist.

  “We could have had a new life together, you and I. But you just had to go and fuck that up too didn’t you?” Andrew angrily spat. Andrew stepped closer towards her and reached his other hand up towards her throat… As soon as Andrew stepped forward, Jerri reached for his pistol with her free hand and pried it out of his holster. She pressed the pistol barrel into his abdomen and fired four shots in rapid succession.

  Jonathan quickly fumbled with his pistol as he tried to clear it out of his holster.

  Jerri pointed the gun out towards Jonathan and fired three shots, striking him in the chest. Jonathan flung backwards into his seat and sunk down as he choked on his final breaths. He managed to pull his pistol out but quickly dropped it to the floor as his grip fell limp and his eyes hazed over.

  Wayne let out a terrified scream and kept his attention fixated on the controls. Below the craft, the landing gear lowered as the plane made final descent. The plane was moving too fast to safely land and Wayne knew it; in his panic he didn’t care about the risks, he just wanted to hurry up and get there.