“Do we have walkie-talkies?” Cliff asked, surprised at the suggestion.
“I think we have everything we need,” Chuck stated matter-of-factly. “At least for a week or so.”
“So we have a small buffer of supplies,” Tom agreed. “Makes it even more important to get this beast off the ground. Mike, it looks like BB has the problem solved but we won’t know for sure until you start her up.”
“Really? If you’ve fixed it BB, I’m seriously impressed. We couldn’t find anything causing it so my hat’s off to ya.”
*
Mike walked around to the starboard side and opened the door. Climbing in, he looked around, checking the state of the cockpit. Satisfied he called out. “Sergeant, let’s do a walk around and pre-flight.”
Getting out again he and Cliff walked around the aircraft doing the checks and unsecured the blades, checking all hatches were closed and locked into place. Cliff kept everyone clear of the aircraft as a satisfied Mike climbed back in, while BB hauled himself into the co-pilot seat. Both donned flight helmets. BB’s was a little loose for comfort as Bill Mitchum’s head was larger, but by adjusting the chin strap he held it firmly in place.
“Let’s do this,” Mike said. Pre-flight checks complete, he flicked the master switch and the gyros spun up. “Well, that bodes well.”
BB smiled as the engine began its whine into action. The blades began rotating and were soon up to speed. Pulling on the collective, Mike allowed the chopper to lift a couple of feet off the ground. All needles were in the green and so they rose higher. Making a slow circuit of the area to check all the systems, he brought it back in to land and powered it down.
“Wow,” Mike said, smiling as he turned to BB. “I don’t know what to say. Do you want a place on our crew?”
“I’d be honoured, Mike,” BB replied. “Why don’t we get the rest of your crew and check out the town. I think you’ll find it pretty much uninhabitable though. From what we saw when we drove from the airport, Denver is ablaze and there didn’t seem to be a single uninfected person in sight.”
“I hope you’re wrong, buddy. I really hope there’s someone to report too,” Mike finished, trying to sound optimistic. This appeared to be personal deception, wishful thinking even, and on a massive scale. One of the reasons Mike had done the small test flight was so that he could try the radio from the air. Flicking through the main frequencies they hadn’t heard a single voice on the airwaves other than their own. There had been nothing but static. In fact, if BB wasn’t much mistaken, he was pretty sure he could smell the burning city, the view across it from up there made hazy and impenetrable by smoke.
By now a crowd of the survivors had gathered, excited by the resurrection of the helicopter; it seemed to offer so much to their morale at this point. Cliff had done his job well and kept them safely clear of the hurricane speed winds it generated. Mike beckoned him over.
“Get Zoë, we’re going to have a look-see, and bring Bill. If we can, I’d like to get him some medical attention. We’ll also get some more fuel while we’re down there, and see if we can report in.”
“Sure, Boss. Back in a minute.” With that he ran over to the Warrant Officer; she had been standing with the others watching the test run, anticipating finally being able to get back to work. “Come on, let’s arm up. We’re going to do a recon.”
Pleasure at getting back into the air and to her job showed all over her face as she beamed a brilliant smile in reply. Running into the cabin she returned with a holstered pistol and a couple of rifles, throwing one to the sergeant. Her pockets bulged with ammo clips; Cliff had not taken his pistol off since the engine had failed. Leading Bill Mitchum to the far side of the chopper, she pulled the far waist door open, while making sure none of the civvies saw the corpse lying there frozen and strapped to a stretcher. Carefully she helped him aboard and secured him into a pull-down seat. Cliff pulled the door closed as the engine spooled up again. In no time they were airborne and on their way down the mountain towards Denver.
No-one spoke as they flew towards their previous reporting point, staring at the massive column of smoke rising from the city. The fires had diminished somewhat since yesterday but the horizon was still being punctuated by an occasional orange firework display as yet another source of fuel ignited. Looking down they saw no vehicular traffic at all and very little movement, the vast open spaces interspersed with small clusters of awkwardly moving civilians who ignored them as they flew overhead.
“They must be infected,” Cliff observed to no-one in particular. No-one replied; they could see it too.
Before long they arrived at the makeshift site that had been set up as the outbreak began. A couple of camouflaged green bowsers sat idly off to one side with landing markers laid out next to them; this had been their refuelling point for the action. Several bodies lay on the ground and a few uniformed people wandered around aimlessly, seemingly oblivious of the helicopter’s approach. Even from a few hundred feet it was obvious the site had been compromised. There was also another Blackhawk parked near the bowsers. Dust had settled covering the canopy and implying it had been stationary for a good few hours and no-one was looking after it. It had stanchions protruding from the upper levels on each side and torpedo-like tanks attached.
“With luck there should be fuel available still. We’ll set down and switch off,” the Captain announced. “I want you, Zoë and Cliff, to set up a perimeter and shoot anything that looks like it’s infected and heading our way. BB and I will refuel the chopper. We will be vulnerable while we do this and I want to be back in the air before we attract any real attention. From the fighting we saw yesterday, the fast ones are a particular threat. Just keep your eyes peeled, guys. If in doubt, shoot.”
“Yes sir,” both replied and readied themselves to disembark. Zoë shouted their plans to Bill who nodded meekly. She felt sorry for him; if the world was going to shit, being blind was the last disability anyone would want. Looking at the dead woman she made a mental note to drop the body off as soon as they were refuelled and safe. A little less weight would mean they would also burn less gas.
The helicopter made a slow circuit of the site looking for obvious threats before they came in and set down next to a bowser. The engines faded to silence, the hot metal clicking as it cooled. In the distance came another noise, sounding for all the world like the moaning of a thousand people. Warily Zoë and Cliff exited and jumped to the ground, guns ready. Wearing their helmets and visors to protect their heads and faces they adopted kneeling firing positions and swept the area for movement. After a moment Cliff signalled and the two pilots descended and ran to the closest bowser. BB began to roll out the fuel hose and yellow earthing wire while Mike fired up the diesel engine pump. It started first time.
By the time Mike returned to the helicopter BB had found the starboard gravity feed port and taken off the cap.
“We have two tanks; one for each engine,” Mike commented. “We can carry a hundred and eighty gallons.”
“That’s quite a load,” BB replied, adding the information to his understanding of the aircraft. His experience was limited to smaller civilian aircraft, none of which had anything like the capabilities of this one. If it wasn’t for the urgent nagging at the back of his mind of the need to get to his wife, he’d be having the time of his life.
“It’ll give us shy of two and a half hours flight before we have to put down for more juice. With a lighter load it might give us even more. I wouldn’t want to be flying more than two without a nearby destination for fuel.”
“So two hours between fill-ups,” BB said, calculating how he would get to Sausalito and his beautiful Kimberley. That was a thousand nautical mile journey and with the range of these beasts of about three hundred and twenty nautical miles it would require at least three stops each way for refuelling. He would definitely need the help of the others. Waiting for the fuel to load, he looked idly across to the other chopper and realised the two torpedoes were a
ctually external fuel tanks. His heart raced; they would make his upcoming journey much more easily achievable. “Shouldn’t we check to see if that chopper is airworthy? We can never have too few of them, especially if we need to cannibalise for spares.”
“BB, I know what you’re thinking. You don’t have to make up excuses; I know about your wife, Sandy told me.”
“I really need to get to her, you know. We may not have long before she’s in real danger.”
“I get it. Look, I can refuel this bird on my own. You take Zoë over with you; Cliff and I can secure this one. Check it out. You handled this one pretty well before we landed so I’m sure you can handle that one, it’ll just feel a little heavier, that’s all. When I’m done I’ll come over and check her over too.” He turned to the Warrant Officer. “Zoë. Go with BB and check out that chopper, will you?”
“Sure Captain,” she replied standing up. “Come on BB, let’s move.”
Together they trotted over to the abandoned helicopter. The waist doors were closed but the starboard pilot’s door was ajar, swinging slightly in the breeze. There was blood on the Perspex windows and some more on the canopy. BB held his breath and raised his pistol to cover Zoë as she moved to check out the cockpit. It was empty. Touching the blood it was found to be tacky and probably a few hours old. Gesturing towards the rear of the fuselage, they made their way to the waist doors. As Zoë came alongside a loud thwack made them jump in surprise as a helmeted head connected with the window. The man wearing it had blood all over his visor and so his face was hard to make out. Mad, staring eyes could be seen, darting from side to side behind the now rose-tinted visor and his teeth gnashed as if he was chewing on a toffee and talking at the same time.
“Zoë,” BB caught her attention. “You pull the door open and I’ll deal with him. On three.”
As he counted down Zoë grabbed the handle and pulled. The creature seemed surprised by the lack of door in front of him and paused for a moment. Realising it now had access to the breathers outside it crouched down ready to launch itself. The single shot surprised it, a small hole appearing in the visor. A spray of blood escaped behind as the round exited the head and helmet and dug itself into the metal behind. The creature fell forward and lay still. Without checking his handiwork, BB raced over and checked the cabin for more hostiles. It had been alone apart from a male corpse with a neat hole drilled into its forehead, powder burns on the skin betraying the close quarter execution. The corpse wore the flight suit of the Army Air Force and had once been a pilot. Between them they dragged the body out and laid it reverently on the ground.
“Do your thing, BB,” Zoë instructed. “I’ll keep you covered.”
Brad leapt into the cabin and unscrewed the same metal covers under which he had found the problem on the other chopper. It was clean and uncompromised. Excellent, he thought, as he screwed the plate back down, this bird might actually fly. He rushed to the cockpit and flicked the master switch. The gyros spun up and the console sprang to life. The fuel indicators said all tanks were full.
“Ha! It works. And it’s fully fuelled. Sweet. It’s like they were waiting for me to drive it out of the showroom. Kim baby, here I come.” BB felt the adrenaline rush as he thought of his wife, reckoning her rescue was going to be easier than he’d dared to hope. With this one fully fuelled he would only have to make three refuelling stops or fewer on the round trip rather than six. All he had to figure out was where the stops ought to be. Maybe Mike had emergency info on this stuff.
Getting out he gave the thumbs up to Mike, indicating his success. Closing all the doors so they wouldn’t get any unwanted intruders, they both ran back to the original chopper. Mike had started filling the port tank.
“It’s fully fuelled. The poor bastard must have been jumped as he was about to go out on duty.”
“You found the pilot,” Mike said, matter-of-factly. “I heard the shot.”
“Yeah. He’d turned and was trapped in the cabin. There was another already dead inside.”
“Warrant Officer,” Mike asked Zoë, “would you care to accompany First Officer Bukowski back to the camp in that one?”
“Sure, why not.” Zoë seemed to have no fear, even when placing her life in the hands of someone she would normally regard as a rookie pilot. BB seemed to have that effect on a lot of the fairer sex.
“Thanks. I’m nearly done here, so get ready to move out. I don’t think there’s any point trying to report in, I’ve heard squat on the radio up to now. If there was any sort of organisation left, I’m sure we’d have heard something. Shame for Bill but I’m sure you can help him. With luck the damage to his eyesight is just temporary.”
“My wife’s an emergency doctor,” BB announced. “I’ll bring her back and she can help treat him, I’m sure. Perhaps we can stop off on the way back and get proper medical supplies as well.”
“Oh, man. You kept her skills quiet,” Mike admonished. “Sounds like she’d be a real asset to the group. You can trust me you know, even if we’d only had the one chopper I’d have helped you go get her.”
“Look, it’s not that I don’t trust you, Mike, not really. But until we found that other helicopter I wasn’t sure you’d let me use this one to go on a rescue mission. It is a big risk, letting someone you don’t know just piss off with your only ride.”
“Sure. I understand. Who will you take with you?”
“I don’t know. Cliff or Zoë would be the best - they are both at home with choppers. That’s if they’re willing, of course. And there’s sure as hell no substitute for their military training.”
“Amen to that.” Mike pondered for a moment. “Okay, let’s see if you scare the crap out of the Warrant Officer on the way back. If you don’t and she’s agreeable, I guess you have your second man.”
“Thanks. Listen, do any of you need to pick up any loved ones before we go back?” BB enquired. “Now’s the best time to make a decision, while we’re here and the paint is still wet on the end of the world.”
“I was just about to get to that,” Mike replied. “I don’t but…” He cast a look at Zoë, “do you have someone to collect?”
“Only the cat and by now she’s probably out on the tiles doing her thing. My parents are over in Florida on holiday. At least I hope so. I’ve no idea where exactly; they’re in a motor home. And I know they don’t like mobile phones, when they’re gone, they’re gone.”
“Okay. Sorry to hear that, Zoë.”
“Don’t worry. If my dad has any say in it they’ll be just fine,” she said with less certainty than she intended. The look on her face was concealed by the visor she had kept in place.
“What about Cliff and Bill?”
“Dunno, I’ll go ask.” Trotting off to the other side of the helicopter, she was just in time to see the sergeant put a round in the head of a zombie running straight at him. It seemed to have come from a parked car some four hundred yards away. It slithered to a halt raising a dust cloud as it flopped to the ground. “What was that, three hundred yards?” she asked, impressed by the shot.
“About three twenty,” he replied, smiling at his own accomplishment.
“Captain wants to know, do you have anyone you want to fetch to safety?”
Cliff stood up at the question and looked straight at her, no expression discernable on his features. “My wife and kids. They’re in Aurora.”
“Not so far away from here. I’ll tell the captain.” Zoë made her way over to Bill Mitchum who was sitting patiently in the helicopter.
“Hey, Bill. Looks like we don’t have anyone to report into. We haven’t been able to contact HQ and we seem to be surrounded by those things - they’re a ways off right now, so don’t worry.”
“Yeah, I heard the sergeant shoot something. I can hear what sounds like groaning out there as well. And what is that smell?”
“Don’t worry, you’re other senses aren’t yet compensating for not being able to see, the stink isn’t exactly subtle. It’s
them I reckon, they’re warming up in the sun. The groaning is them too,” she stated, her lip curling at the thought of rotting corpses wandering around. “Do you have anyone within chopper range we can go and pick up?”
Bill thought for a moment. “Nah, my old lady left me some time ago so I’m a free agent right now.” He gave her what he hoped was a lascivious grin. It almost worked; at least it made Zoë smile at him for the first time ever.
Patting him on the knee reassuringly she got out and reported back to the captain. Hearing the sergeant’s needs Mike gave the thumbs up to Cliff who now appeared happy for the first time since they’d been stranded in the mountains.
“I have to say I’m relieved, I thought the guy was a robot,” Captain Simms said. “This is the first time I’ve discovered he has a human side. BB, we’ll leave the second helo here while we get Cliff’s family. We’ll come back here and refuel and then get back to the mountains. You okay with that?”
Reluctant to leave a perfectly good vehicle behind, he nodded his head. It made more sense than him tagging along like a love-struck puppy.
“I’ll let you do the flying; it’ll be good to get some practice in under my tutelage.”
“That works,” BB replied. He caught the captain’s sleeve and looked him in the eyes. “Thanks.”
“No problem, Brad. I reckon we have to help each other more now than ever before. It may be we only have each other for the foreseeable future. Now let’s get this thing cranked up and let’s go, Cliff is waiting.”
The pilots boarded and began the brief pre-flight sequences. The engines began their familiar whine as they increased revs to their steady idle roar. Finished their guard duty, Zoë and Cliff jumped on board, unstrapped the woman’s body and gently lifted her up and deposited her remains by the bodies of the pilots they had found in the other chopper. Racing back on board, they slammed the waist door and in moments the helicopter was a thousand feet above the ground.
The Common Cold (Book 2): A Zombie Chronicle-Cabin Fever Page 5