by Henson, Lynn
“Guess we go see if the others turned anything up,” he shrugged. They left the house and walked back towards the truck. Everyone had gotten out and had unloaded the supplies. Gao was staying out of sight of the others, leaning against the back of the truck while picking shit out of his nails. He hadn’t noticed that one of the zombies that had been stuck to the truck’s grill had worked its way free and was crawling towards him. Blake jogged forward and struggled to get his rifle off his shoulder and into a useful position. “Gao! Get away from there!” he yelled. He finally got his rifle up and was aiming at the zombie. Gao looked at him with the commonplace annoyance in his face, which was replaced with sheer terror as he realized what had been sneaking up on him. Blake fired a three round burst and managed to put one of the bullets into the zombie’s head, while the other two went into the asphalt. The top of the zombie’s head exploded in a fountain of gore that showered all over Gao. “Aw... fuck!” Gao complained as he shook bits of brain and bone from his arms. Blake walked over to check on the corpse and then over to where Gao was standing. Doris, Cammy, Herbie, Clayton, and a middle-aged guy all rushed over, attracted by the gunshots and profanity. “This is disgusting,” Gao complained, “You probably did that on purpose.”
“You’re welcome,” Blake replied.
“You should pay more attention you lazy shit,” Clayton suggested.
“Yeah, yeah...” Gao agreed, unimpressed.
There was a sudden scream from behind Blake and he whirled to see Tiffany clutching at her leg, her face a mix of pain and horror. A woman was lying underneath their truck and had grabbed her calf with both hands, tearing into it with her teeth creating a dark patch that discolored the fabric of her pants leg.
“Oh no! Tiffany!” Blake yelled frantically. He raised his weapon and tried to aim at the zombie but Tiffany was thrashing around so much, he couldn’t safely get a shot off. Tiffany grabbed the zombie by the head and wrenched it off, the spine pulling free of the body with it and she launched it out into the darkness. The headless body flopped to the ground and she slid herself away from it one hand on her calf, crying. Blake dropped the rifle and rushed to her side, sliding to his knees. He pulled her hand gently away from the wound and looked at it. The flesh at the back of her calf had been brutally torn away, blood ran freely down her leg and into her boot. “Somebody help!” he screamed, and suddenly people surrounded them. Blake lifted her up with the help of Herbie and Curtis and they quickly went into the small house and laid her down on one of the couches. Herbie calmly gave one-word commands as he tended to her leg, asking for things like water, cloth, and the like. Everyone helped to look through the house and found the items needed. Cammy sat quietly to one side watching everything transpire, tears in her eyes. Eventually, Herbie got everything he needed and calmly continued to dress her wound. Clayton slipped out after a few minutes, mumbling awkwardly about how it would probably be best to continue with the supplies. The rest of them slowly trickled out uncomfortably until only Herbie, Blake, and Cammy were left. Blake watched as Herbie applied the finishing touches to a dressing made from paper towels, duct tape, and little gauze pads. He placed a hand on Tiffany’s shoulder and she nodded in thanks. Herbie walked over to Cammy and took her by the hand and walked her outside. Tiffany moved to sit up and Blake helped her. “Maybe...” he began. She put her finger over his mouth immediately.
“Don’t,” she said kindly. “I don’t know how much time I have left, but I want to spend it living.”
He stared at her, not knowing what to say. His eyes teared up and he had to shut them. He felt a hand caress his cheek and he just stayed like that for a moment, savoring the soft, cool feeling. He took her hand and opened his eyes. She had moved her face close to his, her deep blue eyes searching his. For an instant, he saw sadness in those eyes, so much that he felt like it was drowning him. Then suddenly her arm went behind his neck and she pulled him close and kissed him. It felt full of life and vigor, but as she drew away it also felt fleeting. He suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to hug her, so he did and they held on to each other for not nearly long enough. She pulled away and they looked at each other. “Um...” he said. “Let’s go?”
She nodded and followed him back outside.
As they made their way back to the vehicles, they noticed several figures slowly approaching them from every direction. Blake jogged faster but slowed down again when he realized Tiffany was having trouble trying to keep up. He got under her shoulder and she leaned her weight onto him as they hurried over to join the others who were forming a defensive circle. Their relatively quick movement hadn’t gone unnoticed and they were now being pursued by several zombies that had been moving near the airport office.
Blake kept an eye on the closest ones and waved at the others to make sure they knew he was still human. One of them waved back and started running out to meet them. Blake paused to unsling his rifle and fired at one of the zombies that was walking in a direction that would cause them problems. At least one of his three bullets found the thing’s head and it crumpled to the floor docilely. Herbie reached them then got under her other arm. They quickly closed the distance to the group and joined their defensive circle.
“Why are you guys huddled up like this? We’ve got to go,” Blake asked them when they finally got there.
“What? Go where?” Clayton objected. “We followed your lead, so what now genius?”
Before he could come up with an answer that wouldn’t make him look crazy or stupid, he heard honking from behind him. He and everyone else turned to see two pairs of headlights coming in their direction. “They’re back!” Blake changed the subject, “Just hold the zeds off for a few minutes.”
This jarred the people back to attention and they looked around in every direction again, killing the zombies that were getting too close. More kept coming out of the darkness and for every one they dropped, three more appeared at the edge of their vision. I hope those guys found something. Bree’s GT-S rolled to a stop next to the group and Lisa jumped out of the passenger side, trotting over. “We found a way out of here! Everyone get into a car and follow us!” she said excitedly. Everyone scrambled, quickly loading up what was left of the supplies. Blake sat in the back of Gao’s truck with his arm around Tiffany, everyone else from Blake’s truck squeezed into the back with them. Any zombies that were starting to get close were pointed out and gunned down. During the short trip, the group handled encroaching zombies with ease. That makes sense. It seems like the bulk of them hit the depot from the east and the north. After about a fifteen minute trip, they left the runway onto a side road, arriving at what could only be hangers. Bree led them to one in particular and parked close by.
The group assembled and Bree ushered them into the hanger. She turned on her flashlight and pointed it inside, others followed her lead and shined their lights in as well. It was an airplane, an old one from the looks of it. Blake was reminded of the planes used in World War II movies that the American soldiers parachuted out of during the Normandy Beach invasion. “THAT’S our way out of here?” Clayton asked in disbelief.
“I think it’s perfect actually,” Carrey observed, “It’s big enough for everyone and our stuff. Getting out by car would be difficult as there seem to be large numbers of infected coming in both directions of the highway. Escaping by air makes the most sense.”
“Um... I don’t really like flying,” Doris protested meekly.
“I don’t think we have any other option,” Carrey countered.
“I do think this is the best way,” Blake said, suddenly sure that what he said was absolutely true. “Who here can fly?”
Everyone waited for someone to answer in the affirmative. After about ten seconds of silence, Clayton snorted and said, “Well, that’s fucking perfect.”
fifty-eight
“Honestly, how hard can it be?” Kyle argued, “Doesn’t seem too hard in flight simulators. Go straight as fast as you can, flaps down, when you’re almost out of runway
, pull up.”
“We’re talking about FLYING,” Kim reminded him, “Like if you screw up we could die.”
“Come on, it can’t be that hard if they give out pilot’s licenses to regular people,” Kyle pointed out.
“I’m sure they don’t just hand them out,” Lisa countered, “There must be like tests. Flight time with a teacher. Probably even more stuff that we don’t have any idea about because we’re not pilots!”
“It’s an old plane as well,” Kyle continued, “I’m sure there’s nothing to it. It’s not like we’ll be getting into a passenger jet.”
“This is crazy,” Bree observed.
“Are you volunteering to fly?” Clayton said looking at Kyle.
“Yeah, I guess I am. Again, how hard could it be?” Kyle replied confidently.
“Ok, maybe you get the plane off the ground,” Gao said, “The hardest part is landing, no?”
“I guess so. But I still know the theory behind it,” Kyle admitted, “Slow down, flaps down, landing gear down, gently set her down, cut the engines and step on the brakes.”
“I know that performing a heart transplant means cutting open the chest, cutting out the heart, putting in a new one, and then sewing the patient back up,” Kim said, “Doesn’t make me a heart surgeon.”
“You can’t compare those two things,” Kyle disagreed.
“I think flying is the way to go,” Blake said calmly, “I know it’s risky without a pilot, but I don’t think there’s a way out of this on the ground. At least in a plane, we can fly over the horde of zombies and if we can land in one piece, we’ll have a fighting chance to live.”
There was a moment of silence as they digested that, then Doris asked, “How can you be sure that just driving won’t work?”
“Well, we know for sure the road north has a huge number of infected walking towards us. And you already know that there are large numbers coming from the east,” Blake explained, “That leaves us with desert off-roading which probably wouldn’t end well, or flying.”
“Desert off-roading doesn’t sound so bad,” Doris replied.
“Actually. I’d rather take my chances flying,” Carrey disagreed, “If the cars break down and we have to walk we’re going to risk dehydration, sunstroke, heat exhaustion, not to mention the infected. If I’m going to die, I want it to be quick.”
“Well,” Blake said after an awkward moment, “It’s not like this is a dictatorship. Those that want to fly can fly and those that would rather take their chances driving can do so. Show of hands for those who want to fly?”
The twins, Blake, and Tiffany all put their hands up immediately. Then all the others did reluctantly. “Alright, we’re going to fly out of this mess. Let’s get this thing loaded up,” Carrey said. People went to unload their vehicles, and Blake noticed Bree standing next to her car looking forlornly at it.
“Watch out for zombies Tiff. I’ll be right back,” he told her. She nodded and he walked over to Bree who looked up at his approach. “What’s wrong?” he asked her.
“I have to leave my car behind,” she replied sadly.
“Just find a nice place to park it. Maybe in one of the hangers? You might even find something to cover it up with to keep it in good shape. And maybe if the world gets back to normal you can come back for it?” he suggested.
“We probably don’t have time to do all that,” she said with a small smile.
“Well, not if you’re just standing around feeling sorry for yourself,” he said reprovingly, “Better get a move on.”
She snorted and got in the car, starting it up. Blake walked over to where Tiffany stood watch in front of the hanger. She took aim at something outside her field of vision and fired a shot. He reached her as she was lowering the rifle back down and asked, “Hey. You get him?”
She looked back at him, and she was sweating. “You ok?” She closed her eyes for a moment and swallowed. Then when she opened them she answered, “Yeah. Just need a second.”
He gave her another worried look and looked out onto the runway. Figures were appearing out of the darkness moving forward with slow and determined menace. “I got it, Blake,” she reassured him. “Go help the others get the plane loaded.” She lifted her rifle again and aimed at something else in the distance. Her rifle barked a couple of times and she lowered it as she looked out there for a new target. He watched her a moment longer then jogged back over to where the group had moved the cars close to the plane and were transferring their supplies onboard. He grabbed a heavy box of canned tomatoes and took it onboard. Inside, all of the boxes and anything else was being piled up in the back. The interior itself was very spartan, with benches running along each side. Because the interior was so empty in contrast to a passenger jet with all those small uncomfortable seats crammed inside, he was reminded that these things were basically metallic tubes with wings. Everyone worked quickly despite the current safety of the hanger, the increasingly frequent number of gunshots outside reminded them that if they took too long this avenue of escape would be closed off to them too. After a few busy minutes, all of their stuff was on the plane and people were deciding where to best position themselves for the flight.
Blake walked into the cockpit where things got narrow quick. He passed by what looked like two shelves of equipment and then there was a chair to one side where a woman was seated. What? Where’d she come from? Looks familiar… must’ve been one of the depot people who tagged along with us. She nodded at him, but her eyes seemed to be full of indifference. He nodded back and moved to the very front of the plane where Carrey and Kyle were seated and studying the large amount of dials, gauges, levers, and instruments. “Hey guys,” he said in greeting. “How’s it looking?”
“Blake,” Carrey acknowledged, “We’ve got it pretty much figured out. Between the two of us, we’ve located all of the relevant controls that pertain to taking off. Do you have a destination in mind if we can get the plane off the ground?”
“East,” Blake answered immediately.
“Alright,” Carrey answered, still engrossed with the airplane controls. “About five minutes. Let everyone know.”
“What about gas?” Blake asked.
“First thing we checked,” Kyle answered sounding slightly annoyed, “It’s full. Someone got this plane ready to go somewhere and didn’t end up going.”
“Ok, I’ll get out of your hair,” Blake said heading to the back again.
He emerged from the cockpit to find people were trying to settle into their chosen seats and fumbling around with their safety harnesses. Kim, Bree, and Lisa climbed into the plane and looked around. “Where’s Tiffany?” he asked.
“Still outside,” Kim answered, “As soon as we get some more ammo, we were going to head back there to help her.”
“No, I’ll go. We’re almost ready to leave. Stay here and get ready for takeoff,” he replied as he made his way to the door near the back of the plane and went back out to the hanger.
As he’d expected, the number of zombies were increasing, presumably due to the noise of the weapons fire. Tiffany stood at the hangar door, firing at a steady rate. He ran up near her and brought his weapon to the ready as he surveyed the situation outside. It wasn’t looking good, as there were now more targets than he could accurately count. “We’ve gotta go, Tiffany. Get in the plane.”
As if to punctuate the truth of that statement, the engines of the plane roared to life, propellers spinning powerfully.
“I think I’m getting worse Blake,” she replied wearily. “Maybe I can do more good here.”
“I’m not leaving without you,” he told her stubbornly as he put two rounds into a zombie wearing a suit that would have been ugly even if it wasn’t in haggard condition. “Don’t give up. Maybe you’ll heal up and be totally fine.”
“It sure doesn’t feel like it,” she said as she lowered her rifle to reload it. As she pulled the empty mag from the rifle and got a fresh one ready, she pitched forward to the floor,
her weapon and ammo fell from her hands. He tossed his own weapon aside to grab her. She was cold and clammy to the touch and her clothes were soaked through with sweat. He got behind her back, got her under the arms and started waddling backward towards the plane as quickly as he could. The closest infected continued to walk forward without anyone to cull them down as more figures bled slowly into view. “Hang on Tiff,” he said mostly to himself as he dragged the unconscious girl across the hangar floor. He got them within a few feet of the airplane when there was movement out of the corner of his eye. He recoiled away from it, taking Tiffany with him and confirmed that a zombie with half of a mangled face and wearing an ugly sweater was limping towards them. He tried to move faster, but he was already fatigued from his physical exertion throughout the night and was slowly being overtaken. “Hey! Someone help me!” he yelled towards the plane, but it was so loud he doubted that anyone could hear him. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Someone come out and check on us. Someone with a firearm. He struggled again to get his body to move faster, unwilling to sacrifice Tiffany so he could get away. But wait, she’s already infected, right? Realistically she doesn’t have much longer...
“I don’t know how much time I have left, but I want to spend it living.” Those words echoed in his brain and he banished thoughts of leaving her there to get eaten.
“Fuck!” he yelled at the zombie in frustration.
The zombie just shuffled forward, his remaining eye locked onto him and reaching out as he grunted and moaned. Blake hurled them backward and narrowly dodged the attempt by the zombie to grab onto Tiffany’s leg, but the effort on his part caused him to fall to his butt with Tiffany’s weight on his legs. He struggled with her, managing to push with his legs so that he slid back with her another couple of feet, but the zombie was only a couple of steps away. He flattened his left leg and rolled Tiffany over it pushing her out of the way and struggled to a crouch, he was about to launch himself at the attacker when he noticed something odd. The zombie was no longer looking at him and had frozen in place. He walked back carefully and almost tripped over Bob. The cat was whining and hissing with an arched back at the zombie and it was having an effect. The zombie hissed and snarled at Bob but seemed unable or unwilling to move forward any further. Blake wasted no time and got Tiffany again, dragging her to the door of the plane. A quick look back at Bob confirmed that the cat and the zombie were still stalemated and he lay Tiffany gently down and ran into the plane.