An access road beyond the tower was clogged with stalled cars, and three parking lots close to the large and nearby terminal building were full. The Coast Guard’s Air Station was coming up next. People were wandering all over, like it was normal behavior to roam around flight lines and restricted areas. The helicopter was low enough now to see several of them look up and raise their arms.
Booth didn’t think they were signaling for help.
They rapidly lost height. Booth estimated that they were about two hundred feet up when just ahead he saw two large Coast Guard planes in front of several huge aircraft hangars. The pilots changed course again, bearing more to the left. With the planes about a hundred yards away, the helicopter hovered, then descended in a slow spiral.
The colonel cleared his throat. He cradled a short, stubby MP-5 submachine gun. “I want you two to head into the hangar with Lassiter here and look for those external tanks. If you find them, bring ‘em on back. Either way, we need to fuel up also, but I think the pilots got that covered. Any questions?”
Booth and Hicks both answered, “No, sir.”
The helicopter set down on the edge of the pad, near the grass. Quite a mess covered most of the pad. Two wrecked helicopters were there, and looked as if one may have crashed into the other. Both were surrounded by debris and the concrete itself looked scorched all around them in a wide area.
“Get a move on!” the colonel ordered. The two soldiers were up immediately, and Lassiter wasn’t far behind. All three exited the chopper, staying stooped over, and hustled away from the wash. Booth turned back briefly once they were clear and saw the colonel follow them out, but stop.
Booth suspected he was taking guard duty.
None of them stuck around to see what happened next, and Booth took point. He motioned to Hicks to take the left flank, Lassiter to take the right, and then they moved out in a wedge formation with Booth at the point.
The grass was getting high, probably due to be mowed when everything went to hell. Going through it was quicker than trying to stick to the tarmac, though. Booth spotted a body almost immediately, curled up in the fetal position. It may have been a man, but the corpse was burned to a crisp, one foot still wearing an intact military style boot.
“Nothing moving around here, thank God,” Lassiter remarked. Booth noticed that he looked jumpy, and his eyes were bloodshot. He’d rather have the guy in front of him, where he could keep an eye on him, but he didn’t trust him to do a good job on point.
“Be sure that something isn’t lurking around here,” Hicks replied. “There’s a helluva lot of cars over in the parking lot. Hope they’re all cooped up over at the airport concourse.”
Booth was skeptical. Something bad was going to happen. He was sure of it.
24. Janicea
Janicea sprinted around to the back and saw Ralls on his back with a big hole in his chest. While she stood there, his left hand twitched, then his head moved.
He was dead.
But not really.
She stepped past him, glanced briefly into the house through the doorway, then ran toward the neighboring house and the gate that hung open.
She spotted another body, a woman’s— not Sinclair—stepped over it, and ran straight into the arms of a large woman in sweat pants, a sleeveless t-shirt, and sneakers.
“Gotcha,” she said, while pulling Janicea tighter into her embrace.
She twisted frantically, trying to free herself. She lifted her leg, stomped down on the woman’s left foot, and was suddenly free. She finally got a good look at her. She was big, tall, and her stomach was peeking out from under her too small shirt. Her brutish, square-jawed face was flushed, and she was reaching out to grab her again. Janicea backpedaled and tried to point the rifle at her. The barrel was still pointed at the ground when her finger found the trigger and jerked it. The barrel climbed as bullets spewed, working their way up and across the woman’s body. The woman fell backward, arms wind milling, and Janicea realized that the gun must be empty. She felt along the weapon near the ammo clip or whatever it was called, found the release button, and pushed it. The clip fell with a clatter to the ground. I should save that, she thought randomly, but was already feeling for another one in a pouch hanging from her belt. She had only two clips left.
The big woman was making blood bubbles as she sucked wind, and Janicea thought she’d taken a round through the lungs, or something.
Janicea took a deep breath, and smelt something awful, evacuating bowels maybe. She shoved the oblong ammo clip up into the well and slapped it home, then released the bolt, just as Bronte had showed her. She was ready now.
The dying woman’s eyes followed Janicea as she edged around her. No aggression was left in her expression now, just fear.
Janicea ignored her and resumed running for the open gate hanging in the side yard of the house. The gate creaked and swung closed with a gust of wind. She slowed, cursing to herself, and grabbed the gate latch. She almost kicked the door open in her haste, and stumbled on a sprinkler donut when she entered the front yard of the house.
She saw two women and a man running down the road to her right, disappearing around a curb as she heaved for breath. Was that the way Sinclair and the kids went?
Had to be, she told herself, and followed them.
25. Jacobs
“So, do you have a plan, mister?” Leo asked.
Jacobs didn’t answer right away. He finished lifting Sussu into the motorcycle’s sidecar, first. She sat there and panted, appearing happy, anyway. He rubbed her right ear and her tail wagged.
“No plan, son. Not yet. Just ideas.”
“I figure us joining you changed your plan, eh?”
Jacobs grinned at him. “You might say that.”
The truth was, he didn’t have an idea of what to do. What was he going to do with a bunch of untrained kids? It was foolish of him to even try helping them. He had no idea what they were capable of. Would all of them listen to him? They were still alive at this point though, so maybe they weren’t a bunch of dumbasses.
Of course that incident with the old lady didn’t impress him at all. It was immature and cruel.
Jacobs gave the kid the once over, trying to gauge his character. “Listen, Leo, can I trust you?”
Leo nodded again. “I want to help. I know Kyle does too.”
“That’s great, son, but what about the rest of them? Do you know everyone well?”
“Most of them are too scared to do anything else. We were in school when things got really crazy. We all lost our parents. We’ve been doing okay, but three people got killed yesterday. They know you give us a better chance. You know stuff we have no clue about.”
“That’s good, Leo, because if any of them are trouble, I’d be better off on my own. They need to know that I don’t have time for bullshit. Tomorrow we could all be dead. Understand what I’m saying, boy?”
He looked Leo in the eyes, and held the stare until the younger man looked away.
“I understand, sir. Like I said, they’ll do as you say.”
Jacobs grinned. “That’s good. People who cross me don’t have happy endings.”
“I believe you.”
Jacobs felt the boy was telling the truth, but that didn’t mean that he trusted him. Until he knew what this teenager was capable of, it would be smarter to reveal his plans piecemeal.
“Now that that’s out of the way,” Jacobs said, “let’s discuss the next step. We need to establish a safe haven and then gather supplies. All this needs to be done while maintaining as low a profile as we can. I’m okay with taking in other survivors, but we have to be careful. Other groups are competition if they won’t join with us. There’s only so much food and water to go around. Ultimately we’ll need clear land and a fresh water supply. Probably would be best if we establish a base and then plan where we go afterwards. You with me on this, son?”
“Sounds great, sir. We thought of some of this, but it felt like I was treading
water.”
Jacobs winked. “Our biggest worry isn’t the zombies. It’s other survivors and disease. If we stay here very long, we’ll have serious problems.”
The boy was rapt. Jacobs thought he might have found his right hand man. “I want you to park all the vehicles right here on the sidewalk in front of old lady whatshername’s house, and I want everyone to go in there and be quiet. I want you to stay there, and take charge. I’ll take your friend Kyle with me and see what he’s made of. We’re gonna do a recon of the area. I wanna see what we’re facing, and find out what’s nearby. Any questions?”
Leo grimaced. “I probably have a million of them, but I just need to use my brain and figure it out.”
Jacobs clapped him on the back. “Good thinking! Send Kyle to me, and take my dog with you, please.”
“Yes, sir.”
The motorcycle cranked right up. A moment later, Kyle climbed into the sidecar. Thankfully the muffler noise was minimal. The two of them could go almost anywhere, and if necessary, the sidecar could be ditched, quickly and easily.
Jacobs steered them down the driveway and took them into the alley in a cloud of dust. They drove out onto 9th Avenue North and turned east. The interstate overpass wasn’t far away. He didn’t have a specific destination but wanted to get an idea how bad it was.
They drew near to what used to be Edward White Hospital, and Jacobs realized quickly that he had made a mistake. Hospitals were focal points. It would be better to find something with a wall.
He turned abruptly in the face of hundreds of the things, and went south.
26. Julie
She was more than a little drunk. It smoothed over some of the aches and pains from the crash. It wasn’t doing anything for her mood to listen to a whiny child, though.
“I want to go outside, Mom!” George said, and finally he wore her down.
The two pilots were talking to each other over by an open hangar entrance about a hundred yards away, and the colonel was walking around with his gun slung across his chest, his finger on the trigger. He had a cigar in his mouth, but it apparently wasn’t relaxing him. He paced back and forth, and was the most obviously alert sentry she’d ever seen.
The engine was still on and the rotors were still moving, although slow enough to be readily visible.
Julie had no idea which way Booth, Lassiter and that other soldier went. That bothered her, more than she cared to admit. The colonel also made her uneasy. He was jittery and on edge about something.
Was he on something? That thought startled her.
She was so sure that his sole motivation on this trip was to kiss ass. Or more specifically, kiss her husband’s ass. A colonel looking for a star. She wasn’t sure now.
One thing was sure. So far, she wasn’t impressed. By him, anyway.
Now, that soldier, Booth…well, that was a different story. He was good at his job and courageous. He seemed friendly enough. She could probably count on him and Lassiter if something went wrong. Hicks was okay, but catching him picking his nose didn’t build her confidence in how stable he was. Odds were that he was flaking out.
She caught herself yawning, and covered her mouth. She needed time in a nice, comfortable bed. Preferably with her hot-bodied bodyguard, Booth.
It had to be the alcohol loosening her up. Maybe she needed something to take her mind off the grief of losing her child. Fear hovered at the edge of everything now. What new horror would overtake her next?
“Mommy!”
Julie jumped. George pulled her hand. She realized that she’d stopped just beyond the rotors’ sweep and stood in the knee-high grass staring toward the hangars. She was facing the direction that Booth and the two other men had gone. At least, she thought so.
“I need to go to the bathroom, Mom,” George said.
“Okay, honey, just go ahead and pee right here.”
“Not pee, Mom. I have to poop!”
“Really?” she asked, before she could stop herself. It was a dumb question. George never lied about things like that. It made sense for him to go now, anyway. God knew when he’d have a chance again, once they were airborne.
George pulled her hand again.
“Okay, honey, just let me tell the colonel where we’re going.”
“We need to hurry, Mom!” George said, and pulled her toward the soldier.
The colonel looked at them immediately. “Need to stretch your legs, ma’am?” he asked, not quite yelling, but his voice was loud enough to be heard over the helicopter.
“He needs to go to the bathroom. Do you think there’s one in that hangar over there by the pilots?”
“I’m sure there is, but can’t he just go in the grass…” The expression on her face clued him in. “I understand,” he said. “Just make sure one of the pilots go with you, okay?”
Julie frowned, but he was looking away. Obviously, he wasn’t going with them. So much for all his brave words. Was she just a free ride back to D.C. for him?
She turned away and pulled George with her. He was all too willing to go.
27. Daric
Sinclair was forced to carry Beth. The bad thing about that was it slowed them down, almost as much as Daric’s wounded leg, but not quite. They were running down the center of a two-lane road that looped around the island, and there were still dead people wandering around. The island wasn’t safe, even if those people quit chasing them.
“Shouldn’t we hide?” Beth asked. She was whining, and Daric was sure she wasn’t realizing how serious the situation was. Sinclair murmured something to her. Almost baby talk.
Daric wanted the chance to shoot at the people following them. At the moment though, they had a head start and appeared to be getting away.
Up ahead, Daric spotted a road branching off, probably leading back south to the island’s bridge. The other road appeared to go straight for at least another block. They were running past one well-kept rich person’s house after another on either side of the road. Not many trees, other than palms, but nice yards, nice cars, and nice houses.
Daric heard a shout and looked back. A bullet plowed into the road a few feet away. Two women and a man were shouting at them, and shooting.
“This way, Daric!” Sinclair said, and he plunged off the road and behind an SUV parked in a driveway to their left. She crouched down and put Beth back on her feet; Beth was still crying.
“Come take her hand, Daric,” said Sinclair. “Go around to the back of that house and see if you can find the way back to the boats, or find Bronte or Tracks. Try to stay in backyards if you can. The others were coming this way.”
Daric didn’t want to leave Sinclair, but Beth needed him to be brave. He didn’t let himself think about it. He grabbed her hand and told her to run with him. The moment they appeared around the other side of the SUV’s rear, more bullets whizzed by and struck the nearby house, shattering a window.
Daric ran toward the side of the house, hoping there wasn’t a locked fence. The driveway was made of reddish-brown paving stones in triangle shapes, and a sidewalk of the same design bordered by flower beds to the left led around to the back of the house.
The two of them trampled right through the flower beds. When they turned the corner, Daric saw that there was a fence and a gate, but it was chain link and only about four feet high. The only problem was that he couldn’t see back there. A tall, thick hedge grew right up against the links, and the whole backyard looked like a jungle beyond it.
“Open the gate, Beth,” Daric told her, and let go of her hand.
Fortunately, she didn’t argue, and he was able to pull his pistol out and double back to the edge of the house to see what had happened to Sinclair. Bullets flew by and struck the house, but he didn’t let that stop him.
Sinclair was on her belly beneath the SUV shooting her rifle. He couldn’t see the people who were chasing them.
“Come on, Daric!” Beth hissed at him.
He forced himself to turn away, and went back to
Beth. She was waiting at the gate and looked scared and angry. She took his left hand in her right, and led the way.
“We have to find somewhere to hide!” she said.
“Yeah.”
Four zombies stood at the other side of the house, pressed up against the fence, probably trying to get out. He heard them moaning as they thrashed and pressed against the gate. Obviously, they didn’t know how to open a latch.
“Good thing we didn’t go that way,” Beth whispered. “What do we do now?”
He looked around the house for a back door or another gate. There wasn’t a back gate. Lush trees and foliage grew along the length of the fence, and he could see water beyond it but no gate. They had to pick the one house, probably on the whole island, that didn’t have a dock and a boat. As to a door to the house, he could see shattered glass all over the small patio approximately halfway behind the house, likely from a sliding glass door.
“What do we do, Daric?”
Beth was verging on panic. He was too. He knew that unless he kept it together, like he used to when his dad would go on a binge, they were going to get hurt, or even killed.
“I don’t hear any more shots, Daric. Do you think they killed her? We better go back.”
The zombies were still trying to get out. If anything, they seemed more frantic about it. He was sure someone was still out there. A little voice in his head screamed at him to make a decision.
“We’ll sneak into the house, Beth. We can’t go back now. Sinclair would call for us if she killed them.”
“But the zombies can get in there, Daric!”
“There’s an upstairs. We’ll sneak up there and lock the door. They’ll never know we’re there.”
“I can’t. They’ll get us.”
“I’m with you, Beth. I won’t let them.”
“Promise me, Daric.”
“I promise,” he said, and squeezed her hand.
She was so solemn. “Okay, but we have to real quiet. Watch where you put your feet. Stay away from leaves or sticks.”
Once again she led the way and they crept slowly through the mass of glass glittering in the sunlight. When they reached the doorway, they heard a male voice from the front of the house shout, “Got the bitch!”
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