The Dying of the Light (Book 2): Interval

by Jason Kristopher

  Jennifer had remained silent through his tirade, and stayed that way for a moment or two after he finished. “What about Duncan?” she asked, to no one in particular.

  I glanced at Anderson, but he shook his head, and we looked at Shaw, who shrugged, too. “We know he wasn’t on the planes; we had our guys go over them twice before takeoff,” said Anderson. “He never showed up, and we didn’t do anything to him. There’s no telling what happened.”

  Shaw reached for his wife, but she flinched back, looking up at him. “I don’t know who you are anymore. Maybe I never did. I… I need to not see you for a while.” She walked off, her cane clacking on the concrete.

  Shaw started to go after her, but Reynolds laid a restraining hand on his arm. When Shaw turned on him, he didn’t flinch. “Let her go, man. She needs to work this out.”

  I could see him resisting, but finally he gave in and leaned against the side of the plane, hands on his knees and head down. “I lost her for six years,” he said. “I finally get her back, and now I’m going to lose her again?”

  I said nothing, just laid a hand on his shoulder. I had my own wife to worry about. I could see Anderson was thinking the same thing.

  Hopefully, we’re worrying for nothing.

  I banged a coffee cup on one of the tables in the passenger lounge to get everyone’s attention. The area wasn’t particularly small, but there were a lot of folks inside. We’d asked that only the leaders of the various contingents from each country be present, to keep the size manageable, but it was still quite a few people. And they were loud.

  “The plan so far has been to get you all back to what remains of civilization, rather than freezing your asses off. So we’ve done that. Now the hurdle is actually getting there. I’m going to turn it over now to Colonel Williams, who’ll explain more.”

  The pilot stood and addressed the crowd. “Here’s the deal, folks: we’re going to be cutting it down to the wire with our fuel getting back. There is zero margin for error, here. We need to lighten our loads as much as possible, so that means anything that isn’t absolutely one hundred percent necessary goes out the doors of those planes before they ever start rolling. You’ll notice we didn’t bring much of anything from McMurdo. This is why.”

  “But we will make it?” asked a voice from the back.

  “We have every intention of landing you folks safe and sound at LAX in just over twelve hours from takeoff. But, if something does happen, there is a plan in place to divert to Hawai’i.” There were more than a few hoots and hollers and some good-natured cheering, and Williams grinned. “Sounds good, doesn’t it? Lots of sun, lots of waves?”

  “Damn right it does!” Another anonymous contributor.

  Williams’s grin faded fast. “Well, forget it. The only place we could possibly land these planes is Honolulu. That’s a city about ten miles long by two wide with over a million people in it. Or at least, there used to be that many people. Which means there could easily be that many walkers. And with space and weight at a premium, we’re not going to have the niceties of our Humvees or anything else to clear them out. Assuming, of course, that there’s not a wreck on the runway—”

  Anderson coughed, and Williams settled down. “The point is, it’s not going to be all beaches and boogie-boarding. If we have to divert, there’s no way of knowing when we’ll make it back, or even if. So get rid of anything you’re carrying that is not vital to your continued survival.”

  Williams sat down, and I started to stand, when one of the bearded, grizzly older men stood up, instead. “Jake Wattersly, New Zealand contingent, sir,” he said, and I nodded and waved for him to go ahead. “Thank you, sir. I just wanted to say that you’re going to be a bit lighter than you thought, sir.”

  “Oh? Why is that, Mr. Wattersly?”

  “Doctor, sir.”

  I laughed. “Of course, my apologies. I should just call you all ‘doctor’ by default.”

  He smiled. “Probably so. You’re going to be a bit lighter because we New Zealanders aren’t going with you.”

  It was so quiet, I don’t think anyone was even breathing in that moment. I stammered when I broke the silence. “You… you’re not going with us?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Why the hell not?” asked Anderson, before I could respond.

  “Well, we’d like to find out what happened to our people, see what’s left, if anything. Maybe take back some land.” He stood tall, pride evident in his demeanor. “It’s our home, sir.”

  I looked over at Anderson, but he just nodded as he stood and walked over to the older man. “How many people do you have, Dr. Wattersly?” he asked.

  “Twenty-seven, sir.”

  “Sorry to interrupt,” said an older woman to one side. “But we’re stayin’ here, too.”

  Anderson turned. “And you are?”

  “Velma Heatherton, sir. From Australia.”

  “Ah.”

  “Yes, sir. We’d like to join up with these blokes and see if we can make a go of it. Wouldn’t feel right, leaving our country behind like this.”

  “And how many people do you have, Dr. Heatherton?”

  “Seventy-eight, sir.”

  Anderson turned to the Reynolds, Atkins and I, sitting at the head of the table. Gaines was at the back of the room, and the Shaws were conspicuously absent. Atkins had his girl Sabrina sitting next to him. I’d noticed him glance over at her when Heatherton spoke, but she just shook her head and inched closer to him. I guess she’s made her choice.

  “Well?” asked Anderson. “Thoughts?”

  The others deferred to me, so I answered from my gut. “I say we give them some supplies and let ‘em go.” The general tone of the room and the murmuring seemed to agree with me. “It’s not like we’re making anyone prisoners. The point was to rescue them. We did that. We can’t give them very much, but I think most of the rest of the MREs would be fine. We’ll have more food available once we get back Stateside, anyway.”

  “None of them are trained, though,” said Anderson. “It’s the same as leaving them to die.”

  “Point of order, Commander,” said Dr. Heatherton. “In fact, some of us are trained, in a manner of speaking. You Yanks probably wouldn’t realize it, but hunting’s actually kind of a big thing here in the Down Under. If only because nearly everything down here wants to kill ya. Most of us grew up with guns. Even if we’re not soldiers, we’ve still got some skill. We’ll be fine.”

  Heatherton looked like she was going to continue, but Anderson shook his head. “Just keep in mind that you’re not used to herds of walkers, Doctor. None of you are. But you know your capabilities better than I do, so I’m not going to keep arguing with you. We’ll also leave you with the Humvees, since we’re not taking them anyway, and a few rifles. But that’s the best we can do.”

  Heatherton and Wattersly were both nodding. “Thank you, sir,” Heatherton said, and walked over to Wattersly, holding out her hand. “We’d love to join up with you, if you’ll have us, Jake.”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake, woman, of course you can!” He pulled her into a bear hug and everyone smiled.

  Anderson walked back over to the table with the rest of us. “It’s going to go hard for them, you know, despite the ‘training’ she was talking about.”

  I nodded, as did Reynolds, who spoke up. “I think you’ll find it might not be as hard as you think, Captain. You never know what strength people have in them. After all, these people survived more than ten years in the harshest conditions known to man. Walkers might be a day in the park for them.”

  We looked over at those saying tearful goodbyes, and I just shook my head. I hope they make it. It’d be nice to know it wasn’t just the US that had some real humans left.

  It had only been a few days since Shaw had looked out these very same terminal windows at Christchurch at the new C-5 rolling down the runway towards him. He had thought for more than a few minutes that he was seeing things again, his eyes playing trick
s. But as the others had swiftly taken out the walkers, he had begun to wonder if they were real. It had taken him more than an hour to work up the courage to sneak aboard the plane with his empty gun, ready to do anything he had to get back to Jenny.

  Six years, he thought. Six years. It’s almost like a dream now. A horrible nightmare..

  The clacking sound of a cane on tiled floors brought him around, and he saw Jenny approaching, slowly, hesitantly, as though he were some sort of rabid animal she was too scared to come near.

  Perhaps I am, at that.

  He moved forward, but she held up a hand and backed up a step. He stopped, and waited for her to say whatever it was that had brought her to find him. She looked around, noticing the pile of chairs in one corner of the gate area.

  “That was my home,” he said quietly. “I slept there most of the time, when I could sleep. I piled the chairs and made a fort of them, just in case walkers came after me.”

  She nodded. “Smart.”

  He said nothing as she continued to look around, moving in a circle around him, maintaining the same distance. He rotated to face her, like a sunflower. That’s kinda poetic, he thought. Who knew?

  Jenny cleared her throat. “There’s a lot we need to talk about, Billy.”

  “I know, and if you could—”

  Once more, she held up her hand, and once more, he stopped.

  “Please, just… just let me say this.” She took a deep breath, but still wouldn’t look at him. “There are… things… you need to know, things I’ve done, things I’ve had to do, to survive. I’m not proud of them, but I can’t change what’s happened.” She looked at him then, and he could see the tears in her eyes. “Any more than you can change the things you had to do while you were stuck here in your ‘fort.’ I want…” She shook her head and sat down on one of the few sections of connected chairs that he hadn’t moved.

  He eased forward, but stopped when she looked up. “I want to be with you again,” she said. “But I’m not sure how.”

  He cautiously took a step forward, and when she didn’t object, took the seat two down from hers, leaving one between them. She seemed OK with that, so he spoke softly. “Me, too. And I don’t know how, either.”

  She reached a trembling hand across the gulf that separated them, and he took it in one of his. Sitting back against the chair, she looked out the windows again. “Can we figure it out together? Are you OK with waiting?”

  He smiled, though she couldn’t see it, and squeezed her hand. He didn’t even feel the tears sliding down his cheeks.

  “Of course I can. I waited six years… I can wait a bit longer.”

  I waved to Drs. Wattersly and Heatherton as they got into one of the Humvees. Atkins stood beside me at the cargo hold side-door as Sabrina said her final goodbyes. I glanced over at Atkins as he watched. “Any regrets, Doc? Second thoughts?”

  He took a deep breath, pondering the question, then shook his head. “Nope. She’s good to me, we’re good together. I’m sad that she’s leaving her people behind, but I’m much more glad that she’s coming with us. I know it’ll take time, but I’m hoping I can make her at least a tenth as happy as she’s made me over the past few months.”

  I smiled and clapped him on the shoulder as she approached. “That’s the only way to do it, Jim. The only way.”

  He gave Sabrina a big hug as she climbed aboard, and I secured the hatch, turning away from the couple as I noticed more than a tear or two in the feisty redhead’s eye. I’ve got work to do, anyway.

  I moved through the crowd of people in the cargo hold as I made my way toward the front of the plane, and even though I knew there were fewer of them, it didn’t feel like it. I covered my ears and wished yet again that I’d remembered to bring down some ear protection.

  Three hundred-ish people in a metal tin can made a lot of noise.

  I arrived on the flight deck a moment later, and took my place at the co-pilot controls. “Everything’s ready to go, Colonel,” I said to Shaw, sitting beside me.

  From here in Christchurch, we’d be heading back to LAX to refuel, then dropping Atkins off at Bunker Seven in Santa Fe to work with Mary. Then we’d finally be going home to Bunker One.

  “Good. Mr. Myers, patch me through to Rescue One,” Shaw said.

  “You’re on, sir.”

  “Rescue One, this is Colonel Shaw. We are green for takeoff.”

  “Roger that, Colonel,” said Anderson over the radio. “We’re right behind you.”

  “Yes, sir. Rescue Two out.” Shaw looked over at me. “You ready for this?”

  I glanced down at all the controls, indicators, knobs, switches and felt a moment of profound panic. Fortunately, it was short-lived, and I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. We’ll be fine. We kept this bird in tip-top shape down at McMurdo,” he said as we taxied forward to the end of the runway.

  “Really? That’s surprising.”

  “I’m lying,” he said, laughing, as we pushed the throttles all the way forward. “But we’re in a damn sight better shape than they are.” He jerked his head toward the other plane. “I maintained this bird myself for six years, remember.”

  “Ah, so that’s why you two assigned Archer over there.”

  “Yep. With only three pilots—” Myers coughed behind us, and Shaw ignored him with a grin. “With only three qualified pilots, we need them both over there in case something goes wrong, which is much more likely on that plane than over here. Also why Dr. Atkins is on board with us, on the safer plane.”

  I sat back, performing my flight duties by rote as I processed the information. “But then, shouldn’t Anderson be over here, too? And what about Gaines?” Logic be damned, these guys were my friends and had been for a long time. I wanted them where it was safe. At least we had Reynolds with us.

  Shaw turned to me, pitching his voice low enough that I had to take off my headset for a moment.

  And I thought it was loud before. Holy shit, those people down in the cargo bay are going through hell.

  “Look,” Shaw said. “Someone had to get the shit sandwich here. Anderson ordered me to take Rescue Two with you guys. Don’t worry so much. You did a good job putting Rescue One back together, and hey, she’s gotten this far just fine, hasn’t she?”

  I couldn’t argue with that logic, as much as I wanted to. “I just hate seeing my friends in danger, I suppose.”

  “Hey, he’s got Mahoney over there. What could go wrong?”

  I hate it when people say that.

  It wasn’t quite five hours later when those words came back to haunt us. We were scheduled to check in with the other plane every half hour, but it had only been fifteen minutes since the last check-in when Anderson called us.

  “Rescue Two, come in.”

  Shaw answered. “Rescue Two, this is Shaw. Go ahead.”

  “We, uh… we’ve got a slight problem, here, Colonel. We’re going to have to divert.”

  I looked up, startled, but Shaw was cool as a cucumber.

  “Say again, Rescue One. Divert?”

  “That’s affirmative. We’ve had a failure in at least one of the hydraulic systems, according to Mahoney. It’s causing some… discomfort.”

  I took off my headset and looked back at Reynolds, sitting across from Myers. “See if you can spot the other plane. They should be off the port side.” He unbuckled his straps and went back to the passenger compartment.

  “How bad is it?” asked Shaw.

  “Bad enough, Colonel. Mahoney says we’ve got to land pretty damn quick, or we’re going to land pretty damn quick.”

  “But where can we divert to, sir?”

  “Williams has been going over the charts we brought with us, and it looks like the closest thing we’ve got is American Samoa.”

  “You’re shittin’ me,” I said.

  Shaw paid no attention to me. “They have a strip we can set down on?” There was silence on the line, and Shaw looked over at me, but I just shrugg
ed. “Repeat, they have a strip there, sir?”

  Anderson finally came back. “Yes. But there’s no ‘we’ here, son.”

  My stomach did a slow flip as I realized what he was saying.

  “I don’t follow, sir,” Shaw said.

  “You are ordered to continue on to Los Angeles. We will divert to American Samoa.”

  I activated my own headset. “Screw that, Frank. We’re coming with you. You’ll need our help to clear the runway, and—”

  “No, David. Your first priority is the mission. You get Atkins and the rest of those people back to the States or this whole thing has been pointless.” He laughed, a hollow sound. “Besides, Kim would kill me if I let anything happen to you. We’ll make it. We’ve already talked about it. This plane is done, according to Mahoney, but we’ve got enough pilots, and we’ll just split up the group. Find a few planes and make it to Oahu or Maui from there and then find something bigger to L.A.”

  Reynolds came back up front just then. “I could see them, but they’re bobbing and weaving like crazy. Up and down… I’d be blowing chunks by now if I was over there. They started banking west. What’s going on?”

  I had to admit, it was a workable plan, in the sense that it fit right in with the craziness that is the world today. That didn’t mean I had to like it, or agree with it. “No, that’s crazy,” I said, grabbing for the yoke. “We’re not going to abandon you in the middle of the fucking Pacific Ocean.” When the yoke didn’t turn, I looked over at Shaw, who regarded me without expression. “Unlock the fucking yoke!”