Time was running out fast. The zombies would be at the building any second, and the C-130 could take off any minute.
She reared her arm back and smashed the door's window. The sound echoed over the airfield. She whispered through the window. "Mark. Grant. You hear me?"
A growl answered her, and a woman in a print dress with an arm that dangled by a thread of flesh slammed into the door, knocking the blinds off. Her mouth snapped inches from Jen's face, her fetid breath causing Jen to gag.
Regaining her composure, Jen buried the axe into the woman's head. The creature collapsed.
A chorus of screeches rose from the other side of the building. She hadn't gotten to Mark and Grant in time. She flicked on her flashlight and raced through the room, catching glimpses of lockers and benches before bursting through an open doorway into a hall.
Light beams played over the walls and ceiling at the other end of the hallway. The zombie howls were louder in that direction.
"Mark. Grant."
"Jen, what are you doing here?"
They stood at a closed door. It shuddered with the force of several bodies.
"I came to warn you about the zombies coming up the highway," she said.
"Nice timing," Grant said.
Mark put up a hand. "Wait. What's that?"
Jen tilted her head, listening. Over the zombie noise, she heard the faint sounds of a car horn. Her eyes grew wide. Doc.
27
The horn blared again.
Mark craned his neck and peered past Jen. "Where's Doc?"
"He's in the truck." Jen sprinted for the door.
"You left him alone?" Grant yelled after her.
She looked out the broken window to make sure it was clear, then opened the door and stepped out. No zombies on that end of the building.
Weapons fire echoed down the hallway. The zombies were breaching the door. Jen hesitated. Who do I help?
A truck horn sounded. Jen's eyes snapped to their truck. Fifteen zombies surrounded it. Shit.
The zombies screeched, growled, and banged on the doors and windows. Another six rushed out from behind a pile of rubble and joined them.
Doc would be safe for a while if he kept his head. Jen slipped the rifle off her shoulder and took a firing position. If she could take them out from where she was, she'd still be close enough to help Mark and Grant. She aimed at a zombie that stood on the hood, stomping its feet on the windshield. It was only a matter of time before it caved in the glass.
She aimed for its ear, took a breath and held it, then squeezed the trigger. The light recoil pushed the butt into her shoulder, and the zombie's head split. It slid to the hood, and then onto the asphalt. The smell of spent powder stung her nostrils.
A screech to her left caused her to spin. Some of the highway zombies must've heard the commotion and abandoned the inside of the building. A half dozen of them sprinted for her.
Gunshots rang out from the truck. I'll get back to you as soon as I can, Doc.
She swung her rifle toward the highway zombies and shot two of them, but only killed one. The creatures were too close for a rifle, so she pulled her axe and crushed the skull of the first zombie to reach her, while ducking out of the way of the second one. She spun and brought the axe down on the back of the second zombie's head after it passed her, and it sank to the ground.
Mark would be proud of that move.
The last three zombies were slower than the others. Jen risked a glance at the truck. Two more zombies lay dead next to it, but another one stood on the truck bed and reached in the broken back window, trying to grab Doc.
More gunfire came from inside the building, then stopped. "Could use some help out here," she screamed.
Jen kicked the chest of one zombie, knocking it to the ground. She brought the axe blade down on its neck, almost severing the head from the body. A second swing completed the job. The head continued to snap its jaws silently at her.
Doc screamed, "Jen!"
The zombie had Doc's head pulled out of the truck's back window. Jen picked up her rifle and aimed at the son of a bitch, a husky guy in a gore-soaked flannel shirt and jeans. Her finger went to the trigger. She took a deep breath and held it, then slowly squeezed the trigger.
Her head jerked back by her hair and her feet flew out from beneath her, sending her rifle shot into the sky. She slammed down on her back and the air rushed from her lungs.
A tall blonde woman with one side of her face de-skinned silently bent over Jen, her mouth wide open and heading for Jen's throat.
A shot sounded, and the top half of the zombie's head disintegrated. The lifeless hand lost its grip on Jen's hair and the zombie fell. Grant stood at the doorway, his rifle aimed her way.
"Doc," she croaked.
Jen pushed herself to her knees and pointed toward the truck. She looked back at Grant. "Doc."
Grant brought his rifle to his shoulder and shot. The zombie disappeared over the side of the truck, and Doc pulled himself back into the cab.
Jen caught her breath and stood. Another couple of zombies climbed into the truck bed and attacked the back window. Grant took out one, but the remaining one dove headfirst into the cab and had Doc in its grip. The other zombies roared as if being fed by bloodlust.
Gripping her axe tight, Jen staggered for the truck. Shots rang out from behind her, and the zombies attacking the truck fell one by one. Two zombies still remained when she reached the truck. The one in the cab was on top of Doc, who fought it bare-handed, barely managing to keep it from biting. The other zombie, a large man who looked as if he had been a bodybuilder, stood between Jen and the truck, his yellow eyes glaring at her.
Got to get to Doc.
She ducked just before reaching the bodybuilder. He reached out, but grabbed nothing more than air, sending himself off-balance. Jen gave him a glancing blow to the shoulder and sent him to the ground.
Jen grabbed the passenger door handle and yanked it open, her axe getting caught on the frame as she swung. She dropped it and grabbed the zombie's shoulders and pulled.
Doc screamed and the zombie fell onto Jen, blood splashing the windshield.
Jen rolled backward, tossing the zombie out the door. She grabbed the door and slammed it shut.
"Doc."
Doc's shirt was ripped open. Jen pulled the fabric back. His shoulder had a chunk of flesh missing and it bled steadily.
Doc gasped for breath and grabbed her hand. "Have to get this to Dr. Cartwright."
"What?"
Doc pushed a thumb drive and the vial of spores into her hand. "Has data on spores and how they spread virus. All my research. Promise me you'll get them to Fairchild and Dr. Cartwright."
Jen nodded and shoved the drive and vial into her pants pocket. She cradled Doc's head. "I'm sorry, Doc. I should've stayed with you."
He shook his head. "Not your fault." He coughed. "And tell Dr. Cartwright that I wanted to make you my assistant, and that I think she'd be right smart to take you under her wing."
"She won't believe me." Jen's eyes watered.
He coughed and closed his eyes. "Tell her I said I'd eat a bug if it wasn't true. Tell her just like that and she'll know it came from me."
"OK, Doc."
"I've wondered what the change would feel like."
"How does it feel, Doc?"
He opened his eyes. "Hurts like a bitch." His brown irises had lightened, but he smiled. "Chill, dude."
It wouldn't be long.
The remaining zombie banged on the truck door, but slumped to the ground when Mark's mace crushed the back of its skull. He opened the door. "Doc?"
Jen shook her head.
"Take care of me," Doc said.
Jen frowned. "What?"
"Like you did for your father. Will you take care of me, too?"
She caressed his head with one hand while she pulled her pistol with the other. Tears flowed down her face. "Of course, Doc. I'll take care of you."
28
/> Jen and Mark lowered Doc's body to the ground. Jen crossed his arms and closed his eyelids. "I'm going to miss you," she whispered.
The phone rang. Grant scrambled to get it out of his pocket. He pressed the answer and speaker buttons. "Yes, Colonel."
"This will be my last call. We're wheels up in ten minutes, with or without you. The situation here has become untenable."
Mark faced the others. "We can make that time. I've got three sets of keys in my pocket. We just need to find a plane that matches one of them."
The phone crackled. "Then I'll expect you here before we leave."
"We will be," Jen said. "See you then."
"Wait," the colonel said. "Dr. Wilson, the lab at Fairchild wants to know if you have any special equipment requests they can set up now so you won't have to wait once we arrive."
Jen held her breath. Grant pressed the mute button. "What do we say?"
"The truth." Mark pressed the mute button to clear it. "Colonel, I'm afraid we've lost Doc."
"Lost?"
Jen sucked in her lower lip. "He's dead."
Silence. Jen squinted at Grant. "Did we lose connection?"
The colonel's voice came over the speaker. "Then our mission is done here. We'll leave immediately."
"What about us?" Jen asked.
"You failed in your mission. I have no use for you."
"But Doc gave me the spores and a thumb drive with his notes on it."
The colonel's voice lowered an octave. "I never put much stock in what Dr. Wilson was to contribute, and I can't verify that you're not just saying things to save your skin. I won't risk my men any further."
Mark grabbed the phone from Grant. "Wait. What about the nukes? When will they fall?"
A light clicking sound came from the phone. "Colonel?" Grant asked.
"Standard operating procedure is two hours after we're wheels up. I suggest you get in a vehicle and get as far north on the other side of the mountains as you can. Good luck."
The phone went silent.
Grant flung the phone to the pavement, and it broke into several pieces and scattered. "If I ever catch up with him, I'll give him his good luck."
Jen hung her head. "So what do we do?"
Mark pulled the keys out of his pocket and jingled them. "We find the plane that matches one of these keys and fly south."
Jen looked at Doc's body and her chest ached. "No time to bury Doc."
Mark put a hand on her shoulder and guided her to the truck bed. "Come on."
When they reached the planes, Mark pulled out one set of keys and gazed at the tag attached to it. Jen peeked over his shoulder. The tag said "Mountain View Aviation," then underneath that was handwritten N400204.
"That's the tail number?" she asked.
Mark nodded as he scanned the planes before them. "Don't see it."
Jen pointed to one of the piles of plane debris. "There." She ran over to it and lifted what was left of the tail. It had three numbers visible, and they matched the last three numbers of the key tag.
Mark tossed the keys to the ground. "Guess that one's not flying." He pulled out another set.
The number on that tag didn't match any of the surviving aircraft, either.
"You sure there aren't any more keys in that building?" Jen asked.
Grant frowned. "We didn't have time to go through every drawer and pile of shit. These were the only keys on the board that was marked 'Keys.'"
"We did check in the desk beneath the board and around that area in case any of them fell off," Mark said.
Jen's heart thudded against her chest. Outrunning the nuke in the truck seemed like a long shot. And who knew what kinds of hordes they'd have to fight through to get there?
Mark took out the last pair of keys and read it. He looked at the three undamaged planes and shook his head. "Not here."
Jen stuck her hand out. "Can I see?"
He dropped the keys into her hand and she looked at the tag. Like the other tags, it had the name of the air service and a tail number. The damn number didn't match any of the three planes before them. "Shit."
She flipped the tag over.
"Guess we better load up, then," Grant said. "But I'd like to find something bigger than this truck."
Jen brought the tag closer and squinted. In faded ink, it said, "Ted Stevens."
Ted Stevens? The late senator?
Grant climbed into the truck and started it. Mark stood, holding the passenger door open. "Jen?"
"I know where this plane is."
29
Mark peered at the tag. "Where does it say its location?"
She pointed out the faded writing. "It says Ted Stevens."
Grant turned the truck off and ran over. "What's going on? We need to get out of here."
Mark took the airplane keys from Jen. "She says she knows where this plane is, but all it says is Ted Stevens."
Grant's eyebrows lowered. "Ted Stevens? He was Alaska's senator, but he's dead. What would he have to do with a plane?"
"Who's Anchorage International Airport named after?" Jen asked.
Grant snapped his fingers. "Of course. So the plane's out there?"
"Why not?" Jen said. "There are a ton of small planes parked out there."
Mark shook his head slowly. "I don't know. How can we be sure?"
"You can't," Jen said. "But even if this plane isn't there, a hundred more are."
Grant crossed his arms. "But that's back across town, and we have less than two hours. The drive out of town will be quicker." He jerked a thumb at the highway. "The way out's right there."
"Sure," Jen said. "And where are we going to go after we get out of town? Canada? Do you think they'll let us in? How do we know the virus hasn't spread there?"
Mark slid the keys into his pocket. "Either way's a risk."
Jen pulled the thumb drive and vial from her pocket. "Here are two good reasons to fly."
"What's that?" Grant asked.
"Doc gave them to me before he died. The drive has all his data on the zombies, and the vial contains the original spores that spread it. They don't have these at the CDC. It could be important in stopping this shit."
"We could fly right to Fairchild," Mark said, "and get the information there faster. It could make a big difference."
Grant patted the truck's hood. "If we're going back across town, we need something better than this. Something bigger, more solid."
Jen put her hands on her hips and scanned the area. Where can we find something bigger than a pickup? She snapped her fingers. "I know."
"What?" Mark asked.
She pointed past the Glenn Highway. "Two blocks that way. I had a friend who worked for the city's street maintenance department. They have a storage facility over there where they keep the dump trucks and snow plows during the summer. Those bad boys are huge and heavy."
Grant smiled. "That'll be perfect."
They loaded in the truck and Grant drove onto the highway. A few zombies staggered across the road in the distance.
Jen pointed in the air. "Look."
A C-130 climbed into the sky over JBER. "There goes our ride," Mark said. "I guess the clock starts ticking."
Jen directed Grant across the highway. "Take a right there."
They drove along a road with a fifty-foot drop-off to Ship Creek on one side and warehouses on the other. The warehouses ended with a fenced-in equipment yard containing dozens of heavy vehicles.
"This is it," Jen said.
Grant stopped the truck next to a double gate and they got out. Mark grabbed the padlock and chain locking the gate. "Well that sucks."
"Use your mace," Grant said.
Jen slipped her axe into a belt loop. "Might as well ring the dinner bell." She hauled herself onto the chain link fence and scaled it ten feet to the top. "Try to keep up, fellas."
She dropped to the ground and crouched as she scanned the lot. Mark and Grant landed next to her, and she led them between a road grader an
d a sand spreader. There, backed up to the rear of the lot, was a row of big-ass yellow dump trucks.
"I think those might work," Mark said.
Grant's eyes got big. "Beautiful."
Jen grabbed his arm. "Wait." She pointed to a truck in the corner with a huge V-shaped plow on front. "Just what the doctor ordered."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Grant ran up to it. "You could plow through almost anything with that. Damn thing has to be at least sixty thousand pounds."
He climbed into the cab, looking like a kid at Christmas. Rolling down the window, he stuck his head out. "The keys are in it."
A whirring sound came from under the hood and it broke into a full-throated roar, with black smoke shooting from the pipes.
A chill-inducing grinding of gears echoed over the lot, and the truck lurched forward, stopping next to Jen and Mark. Grant turned off the truck and climbed out. "I think we've got our transportation."
"How's the fuel level?" Mark asked.
"About three fourths of the tank."
A single screech sounded from behind them. Jen whirled to face a thirty-something zombie with a heavy beard and overalls. He streaked toward her. In one motion, she pulled her axe, sidestepped the zombie, and swung the blade around, taking a chunk of the zombie's skull off. "How about a little off the top?"
Mark nodded, smiling. "You're getting pretty good with that thing."
"I've gotten a lot of practice lately."
A series of screeches sounded from several directions. Mark opened the passenger side door. "Let's see how well this thing works."
Grant started the truck as Jen hopped in and sat next to Mark. A half dozen zombies had reached the outside of the gate and pressed against it.
Jen laughed. "I forgot the gate was chained and locked. They're not getting in here soon."
Grant put the truck in gear. "That's our way out. We have to go through the gate and the zombies." The truck shuddered and bounced, the engine rumbling. A dozen zombies stared back at them from the gate.
"Damn things are multiplying," Grant said. "Better hang on."
He got the truck rolling and the point of the blade hit right between the two gates. It snapped the chain and shoved the gates to either side, knocking the zombies away.
The Gauntlet_Book Two in the Zombie Uprising Series Page 14