by David Bourne
“Say good-bye, mom. I’m going to bury dad in the garden,” he said bitterly.
She entered the room, knelt in front of his corpse and prayed for several minutes. The she grasped her husband’s hand and left the room.
Ray (14)
Ray was quite surprised when they turned into the driveway of Chris’ vacation home. He had expected a small, one-story log cabin, but this dwelling could hardly be called a cabin. The massive log home with a pitched roof had two stories and a garage with a workshop, which is where they parked the pickup. Chris Foster must have won the lottery or come from a rich family. Otherwise, Ray couldn’t conclude how a young man like him could afford such a house. He estimated Chris was probably in his mid-twenties.
The downstairs bedroom became a makeshift hospital. A man named Greg had broken his right leg, and it was put in a makeshift splint, but he certainly couldn’t walk. He was in a single bed, like the man whose condition Cathy had stabilized in the clearing. He was a retiree named Howard who had collapsed.
The other passengers were more or less alright, though many still felt the effects of shock. The wet clothes were placed over radiators and near the fireplace, which Chris had lit in the living room. He also distributed water bottles and blankets. They all sat together, but hardly anyone said a word. Chris finally broke the silence.
“Okay everybody. My name is Chris Foster. As you are now my guests—what exactly happened?”
A pretty blonde named Pam cleared her throat. “A passenger on board went berserk. First he attacked a flight attendant, then the copilot... Luckily, Captain Thompson–”
“We crashed, that’s what happened.” A morose man with amazingly wide shoulders interrupted her.
“Don’t misunderstand me, Sir. I saw that part. I’m interested in the background,” Chris said. “After all, I’m not blind.”
The man looked at Chris. “Sure, the only blind one seems to be Captain Hooch Hound here.”
Ray looked up. “Excuse me, Sir?”
“An excuse won’t be enough, you drunken ass wipe.”
Ray felt the hair on his neck stand up. That’s the last thing I need.
“Listen, I can understand you’re upset, but such insults are not helpful now. Maybe you should just–”
“The hell I will! Everyone should have noticed that you stink like an entire distillery. Captain.”
Ray felt he had been busted. At the same time, he really, really needed a drink. How appropriate.
“Mister, just calm down,” Cathy intervened. “Without Captain Thompson you probably wouldn’t be alive.”
The man stood up. His blanket slid from his shoulders revealing that he was only dressed in his boxer shorts. He cut an impressive figure with muscles that seemed to compete for space on his body. He took a step towards Ray, but he looked right at Cathy.
“Thanks to Captain Thompson, I will never ever see my wife again, honey, because she is no longer alive. If you all had done your jobs properly while on board the plane during the flight, we wouldn’t all be sitting here now.”
“He may be right there,” a slim, bespectacled man named Danny interjected.
“I agree,” said a dark-haired man named Cain.
“Then you are free to go, Mister,” said Chris and placed himself between the muscle-bound man and Cathy. “I can understand your anger and frustration, but as long as you are in my house, you follow my rules—and one of them is no one threatens violence.”
Ray wouldn’t have expected Chris to be so calm. He himself had been close to calling this Neanderthal a stupid asshole.
The man snorted derisively as he hesitated for a moment, and then finally sat down again.
“You all should get some rest first,” Chris said. “There are two additional bedrooms upstairs. Some of you can sleep here in the living room. It’s going to be crowded, but at least it’ll be warm. If you want to eat something, there should be some food in the fridge. I’m going to keep an eye on the road. We should eventually hear the emergency vehicles.”
“Don’t you have a TV set? There might be something in the news about our plane—at least that it’s missing,” said Phil Brook, the father who had opened the emergency exit of the plane.
“We don’t get TV reception out here. I’m glad I have a landline, but right now it seems to be out of order. I’ll keep you updated if something happens,” Chris said. “Just lie down and try to get some sleep.”
Sleep—this sounded wonderful to Ray’s ears, maybe with a little nightcap beforehand. However, after the quarrel with the Neanderthal, he didn’t dare to ask Chris for one. Instead, he and Cathy went upstairs to lie down.
They shared the bedroom with Phil Brook and his two children. The girl, Fiona, was nine years old, and her younger brother Robbie was seven. The Brook family had originally planned to visit grandparents in Washington during their vacation. Now the three of them were lying in a queen-sized bed located in the White Mountain National Forest.
Ray and Cathy shared the sofa bed, and when the members of the Brook family were finally asleep, Cathy whispered to him:
“What the hell happened on the plane today, Ray?”
“I wish I could tell you.”
“I never saw anything like that before. The guy seemed to be possessed. I mean, he actually tried to devour Mia!”
Thinking of Mia hit Ray like a punch to the pit of his stomach. He would miss her even though she often got on his nerves. He felt the same about Nick, too, whom he had worked beside on countless flights.
“Cathy, I can’t understand it myself. Whatever it was, it seems to be contagious. I cannot explain it otherwise because Nick also went berserk. As soon as the emergency crews are here, there will be an investigation of these events. Now let’s go to sleep.” Ray thought he didn’t sound very convincing even to himself.
What were Tom and Eve doing right now? He should have been with them some time ago, and now he couldn’t even explain to them why their dad had once more stood them up. Even though it really wasn’t his fault this time—or had the Neanderthal been right after all? Ray’s desire for some booze reappeared, and it took a while before he fell into a fitful sleep.
Ray (15)
The next morning, everyone met for a briefing in the living room, where Pam, Danny, Cain and the Neanderthal had spent the night. No rescue crews had arrived so far.
“If nobody comes, we just have to go and get them,” the Neanderthal said. It turned out his name was actually Duke Powell, and he worked as a truck driver for a shipping company.
“Listen, Duke, I can understand that you’re impatient, but we shouldn’t rush things. There’s still a real chance help will arrive in the next few hours,” Chris said.
“They should have been here long ago!” Duke barked angrily. “Something’s wrong here. The whole damn thing stinks to high heaven!”
“Duke is right,” said Cain, and Pam and Danny also nodded. It appeared that the “Fantastic Four” had a team meeting last night.
Ray had to admit that Duke might actually be right this time. It was more than strange that no one had shown up yet. Normally, it only took a few minutes before rescue operations were launched once a plane disappeared from the radar. It should also be easy to precisely locate the signal from the black box.
“How far is it to the next town?” he asked Chris.
Chris spread out a road map on the living room table and marked a small spot with a highlighter.
“Not really much of a town, but Muntly is a few dozen miles south of here. There’s about a hundred and forty people there.”
“We should try it. Maybe we’ll get some help there. After all, Greg and Howard can’t be transported and have to be treated here. Furthermore, we need more supplies. Your fridge is almost empty,” Ray said.
“What’s this about supplies? That sounds like you want to settle in here, Captain. I, for my part, want to get home rather than settle down!” Duke snarled. Pam, Danny and Cain also appeared skeptical.
Ray’s hand was trembling slightly. “Duke, we didn’t get off to a good start last night, so let’s put that behind us. I want to get home, too, just like you and everyone else here. However, I think we can agree that here we at least have a roof over our heads, bathrooms and a minimum of food. We can’t thank Chris enough for that, but in case we have to stay here longer, we need new supplies.”
“Just a minute—stay here longer? What do you mean by that, Captain?” Pam wanted to know.
“Not a good start?” Duke interrupted her. “We didn’t have a good landing, if I remember correctly. If you don’t stop acting like some big-headed smart aleck, I’m going to punch you in the face so hard, you’re going to have to use a sippy cup for at least a month! I’m most certainly going to leave now—if anyone wants to come along, fine! They’re free to join me.”
Fiona and Robbie Brook hid behind their father.
“You didn’t answer my question, Captain,” Pam said.
Ray’s hand was trembling more now. He didn’t want to answer any more questions, and he also didn’t want to argue with bone-headed truckers. He wanted a drink—no, he needed a drink. Now!
“I’m only considering the possibility we might not be able to go home right away,” Ray explained. Then he said what everyone else was thinking.
“It’s very unusual that rescue crews haven’t arrived yet. Unless it got damaged, the black box has been transmitting continuous signals since the crash. But even that wouldn’t explain why both the landlines and cellular networks are down. There must be a reason for this. You saw yourself what happened on the plane—the man who attacked our flight attendant and the co-pilot was sick. His behavior resembled mania or rabies—whatever it was, it must be contagious, otherwise my co-pilot wouldn’t have attacked me. I myself don’t have a logical explanation for it, so I think it would be best to search in Muntly for help and supplies first. Until we know more, we should all stay here.”
“The hell I will!” Duke growled. He pointed at the map on the table. “I’ll make my way eastward. Route 28 is only a couple of miles from here, and someone will give us a ride there.”
“I’m coming along,” Danny said.
“Me too,” Pam added. “I certainly won’t stay here. I have to be in Washington next week.”
“I’m going also,” Cain said.
Ray sighed. “Then at least ride with us to Muntly. You can continue on your own after that.”
“Don’t you realize that you’re no longer in command, Captain Butthole? We’re no longer on your plane since it sits in broken parts at the bottom of the lake—and I’m leaving now!”
Ray had finally had enough of it “Then go, you fucking smartass!”
A deadly silence fell in the room. The children crawled even further behind Phil Brook. Duke looked surprised. He had enjoyed his little performance so much that he no longer expected any resistance.
“What did you say?”
“I think you should climb up where the sun doesn’t shine, if you know what I mean, you piece of shit!” Ray snarled. “I hope you get picked up by one of your fellow truckers who cornholes you all during the trip. Then you two can play with each other’s itty bitty trucker weenies until the skin falls off your sausages!”
Nobody could really believe what Ray had just said—least of all Duke. He pushed himself past Pam and walked towards Ray.
“That was your death sentence, you wino bastard! Kiss your ass goodbye!”
Ray stood up. Just as Duke reached him, everyone heard a loud “click.”
“STOP RIGHT THERE! One more step and I will shoot your knees apart!” It was Chris, pointing a .357 Magnum at Duke.
“I told you I won’t allow any violence in my house. If you want to go, then go. Those who want to join you can do so—now!”
Ray could see in Duke’s eyes he was considering whether an attack on Chris would be worth it. After a few seconds, Danny and Cain finally made the decision for him.
“We’re going,” Danny said and took Duke by the arm. Pam followed them outside.
“We’ll meet again, Captain, and then you won’t have your nanny to protect you,” Duke huffed as he left with the others.
Ray didn’t even look at him.
“That was close,” Phil Brook said. Meanwhile, his two children had crawled out from behind his back.
“Indeed, and for someone who doesn’t tolerate any violence in his house, you got quite some weapon there,” Ray said to Chris.
“Only for self-defense—and for defending my guests,” said Chris, grinning.
“So, what’s the plan?” Cathy asked.
“Chris and I are taking the pickup truck to Muntly to look for help, or at least get some answers. Cathy, please take care of Greg and Howard in your little hospital. Phil, keep an eye on the road.”
“No problem. Fiona and Robbie, get your old man a bottle of water from the kitchen.”
After the two children left for the kitchen, Phil whispered, “Ray, how long do you think it will take before we can leave? The children are holding up well so far, but I’m not sure, how long they can put up with this. They miss their mom. She didn’t fly with us because she wasn’t feeling well. I need to call my wife to see if she is alright.”
“I understand, Phil, but I can’t give you a definite answer. I promise that we’ll do everything we can to get help as quickly as possible.”
“Daaaad, that was the last bottle,” Fiona called as she came running at full speed from the kitchen. Hot on her heels Robbie followed, who almost slipped on the smooth wooden floor, but then caught himself and kept following her. As she passed him, she tossed the bottle to her father.
Phil nodded to Ray. “If you can’t find any help, at least try to get some food for us.”
Scott (16)
Scott wrapped his father’s body in an old blanket. He carried him outside and placed him carefully on the patio. He quickly looked at the spot he had chosen for his father’s final resting place in the large and beautiful garden. Martha and Jane used to compete to see who had more of a green thumb. One summer, Ben got the idea of digging a pond, and Scott had helped him. Near the pond was a sturdy wooden bench where in the summer, Scott often sat and talked with his father. Behind it stood an ash tree Scott had helped his father plant as a boy, and which provided shade to those sitting on the bench. Scott had later built the bench himself as a Christmas present for his parents. He would never forget the conversations he had with his father while they sat on this bench. When Scott was a little kid, Ben Gerber had been strict with him, and he expected quite a bit from his son. Scott knew it was for his own good, though. His dad had always been a good listener who took him seriously and gave him sound advice. He hoped he would be able to pass those qualities on to his own son, someday.
The garden shed held a lot of tools. Scott grabbed a spade and dug a hole near the ash tree. When the grave was finished, he carefully lowered his father’s body into it. Deep in thought, he stared at the cold soil he had piled up. If one of those monsters had appeared at this moment, that probably would have meant the end of Scott Gerber.
He tried to recall as many stories as he could about how his dad used to be, and he would make sure that Ben Gerber would never be forgotten. Then he started filling in the grave.
He went back to the shed and fabricated a simple cross out of two boards. He cut the lower end at a slant and used a paint stick to write on the cross:
BENJAMIN GERBER
Beloved father, grandfather, and husband.
That was all, and he fetched his mother. Scott looked around, but couldn’t detect any present dangers—it was as if God wanted to give them a moment of peace. He hammered the cross deep into the ground until he was sure it would stay put. They paused for a moment, and each of them said a prayer. Scott cast a last glance at the grave when they said their good-byes, then both of them went into the house.
Once inside, Scott gathered up a few things, including some food and so
me of his father’s clothes. He wanted to get his mother out of here as soon as possible and find a safe hiding place for her, Jane and Sam. A quick glance out the window made him hurry because more and more monsters were gathering in the street right in front of the house. They probably were slowly running out of easy prey and were looking for more victims. Scott turned away and thought about what else they might need. In all of his life, he never had to make these kind of decisions. It was only a few weeks ago that his wife used to pick out matching shirts for him.
Martha Gerber was upstairs in the bedroom, packing clothes into a travel bag. She tried her best to ignore the terrible images going through her mind. She slowly looked at the bible before finally taking it.
Scott rummaged through the pantry for a few minutes in order to find some supplies. Canned food would be best. Suddenly, he heard a scratching sound at the front door. Sounds like that damned asshole out there is awake again. His mother was now upstairs in the bathroom to pack a few items for their trip.
“Mom, only take things that are absolutely necessary. I want to get going, and...”
Scott couldn’t finish his sentence. The glass panes in the front door suddenly burst, and in a frenzy, two bloody hands reached inside the house.