by Henson, Lynn
“Somebody help me get Tiffany inside!” he yelled, attempting to hide none of his anxiety. Then he turned tail and ran back out. Tiffany had not been molested in the brief time he ran inside and he got behind her shoulders again. Herbie stomped down the stairs and quickly moved to get Tiffany’s feet. They lifted together and Herbie backed into the plane taking the steps slowly by getting both feet on a step before tackling the next one. Blake was able to handle the easier job of supporting Tiffany’s weight and pushing her up into the plane. “Come on Bob!” he called back to the cat as he climbed the last step and moved Tiffany to a free seat. The cat ran past them and into the cockpit, much to Blake’s relief as that was one less thing to worry about. Herbie pulled the door shut and walked quickly back to his place next to Cammy. Blake checked Tiffany quickly again to make sure she was properly strapped in and then took a seat next to her, occupying himself with the safety features of his seat.
He panicked a little when the plane started moving forward as he hadn’t yet finished with his harness. He fumbled around with it further wondering why he felt that once it was all hooked up it would save him from crashing in a few hours because their pilot’s experience with flying was limited to claiming to understand the theory behind it. But he still felt a little better once he was all tied in. A glance at Tiffany confirmed that she was still blissfully unconscious. He looked around and everyone was scared. He could see it in their eyes.
That’s why when after about a minute the plane suddenly screeched to a halt, everyone screamed. Everyone looked around, confused when Carrey came out of the cockpit, “Sorry about that,” he said with a little bow of his head, “There’s a problem.”
Everyone groaned at that.
“What’s going on?” Kim asked.
“We’re concerned about the amount of zombies on the runway,” Carrey explained.
“Just hit them,” Gao suggested like that should’ve been completely obvious.
“This isn’t a movie, idiot,” Kim pointed out.
“I don’t think we can risk it,” Carrey agreed, “If they slow us down too much we won’t get airborne and we could run off the runway and crash into something.”
“Then we’d really be screwed,” Kim agreed.
“You can’t be hitting stuff anyway,” Lisa added, “Taking off requires that the plane needs to be going straight, right?”
“What about going down the runway in the opposite direction?” Blake suggested.
“That is stupid,” Gao pointed out, “There is not enough runway to take off.”
“Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” Carrey said suddenly thoughtful.
“What part of not enough runway do you not get?” Gao persisted.
“That’s true, from here we wouldn’t have enough runway,” Carrey admitted, “But if we go in the direction the zombies are coming from and then turn around when it starts getting too dense, then maybe we would be able to take off going the other way.”
No one said anything after a moment, then Gao said, “Shit.”
“We’d better start if that’s what we’re doing,” Blake said, “If the zombies get too far down the runway our slim chance turns into no chance.”
“I, uh, hate to say this, because by doing so I guess I’m volunteering for it,” Curtis said reluctantly, “But I think our chances will go up if we escort the plane.”
“Escort? How?” Carrey wanted to know.
“We need to get out and walk with the plane down the runway as far as we can get. If we can clear out the ones in front maybe we’ll be able to buy more space for a takeoff,” Curtis explained.
“What about the people doing the escorting?” Lisa asked.
“When the plane turns around, stop it just long enough to let us in. Then we close it up and take off,” Curtis further explained. No one said anything after that. Then Blake sighed and said, “I’ll go with you,” and the tension perceptibly fell a notch.
“We’ll go too,” Kim said, patting Bree on the shoulder. After a beat, everyone started unhooking their harnesses to go out as well. “We’re all in this together,” Clayton observed, “If it’s going to work we all have to pitch in.” Even Gao had an atypical look of purpose as the group headed outside.
Everyone armed themselves and started exiting the plane. Blake hung back as the other three filed out of the door. “Keep an eye on Tiffany. Please?” he asked Cammy who after a moment nodded seriously at him. “Don’t be scared. We’ll be back soon,” he added then followed the group outside.
“Everyone space yourselves out equally in front of the plane! If you get in trouble, call it out!” Curtis yelled to them.
Everyone fanned out in front of the plane and started walking towards the end of the runway. Blake fired off a shot which rocked back the head of an undead police officer, sending an arc of gore onto the ground. The former officer crumpled to the ground, lifeless. From where he stood, it was clear that Carrey was absolutely correct regarding the runway situation. The number of zombies that were walking on the tarmac would definitely throw off their attempt to get the plane off the ground.
They walked forward shooting the zombies ahead of them. The plane followed slowly behind them, the engines making a whole lot of noise as they went. Every now and then, a pair of them would have to move a corpse out of the airplane’s path. The work got progressively harder as they got further down the runway because there was more and more undead coming towards them. Gradually they started to find their formation pushed closer to each other until finally the realization set in that they weren’t going to get any further than this. Blake ran back towards the plane and waved his flashlight in a circle. Kyle must’ve got the message, as the plane started to turn around. The group held their position as the plane slowly turned to face the opposite direction. Blake shot zombie after zombie, but there was no end to them. With the sheer amount of them pushing the group slowly closer together, he felt strongly that they were going to be surrounded.
“Alright! That’s it, get in!” Curtis yelled as he continued to fire into the undead mass, walking back towards the plane. About half of the group immediately turned tail and ran to the plane as soon as they heard this, but Bree and Kim acted as Curtis did, walking back while still firing their weapons. Blake did this as well, unwilling to get back on the plane until he was sure everyone else did. When the first people got on board, Kim and Bree stopped shooting and ran all out to get on the plane. Blake fired several more shots at the closest zombies and then ran for it as well.
He saw Kim get on followed closely by Bree. He followed them in, feeling an incredible rush of relief as he stepped into the aircraft. Inside, people were scrambling to strap themselves in. Blake looked out and saw Curtis was running towards him, zombies without end mindlessly giving chase.
The engine noise got even louder as they went to full power. The plane started to pull away, and Blake could see the horror in Curtis’s eyes. “Come on! You can make it!” Blake yelled to him. Curtis hurled his rifle away and ran as hard as he could. Blake grabbed the side of the door and held his free hand out to him. Curtis grabbed it and Blake shifted his weight backward, pulling the soldier inside. They got to their feet and closed the door. “Strap in! Hurry!” Kim yelled at them from her seat.
Blake walked forward looking at Tiffany who was still blissfully unconscious and felt worry tinged with sadness on his way towards the cockpit. Curtis had found a seat and his right leg was twitching with nervous energy, his face was slick with sweat and blood splatter. “What are you doing? Sit down!” Kim yelled at him.
“I’m going to tell Kyle we’re all in and ready!” he yelled back as he passed into the front. One less thing for them to worry about. He walked forward and unexpectedly saw the familiar looking woman from earlier slowly walking towards the front of the cockpit. He was about to warn her to be seated but held his tongue when he saw the knife in her hand. “Hey! What are you doing?!” he called, moving deeper into the cockpit.
The
woman looked back at him and he finally realized why she looked so familiar. She wasn’t dressed like a biker’s bitch anymore, but it was definitely Angel. She had a crazed look in her eyes as she plunged her knife into the brother who was sitting in the left seat. Carrey screamed in pain, raising his hands protectively at her as she pulled the knife out and tried to drive it into him again. He ran forward to try to stop her when the plane lurched to one side, sending him into the radio operator niche.
When he regained his balance and unsteadily continued walking to the front, he saw Kyle had released himself from his seat and was wrestling with Angel. He had caught her knife-wielding hand by the wrist and was holding it up high. She had her free hand in his face as she shifted around, trying to upset his balance. He managed to push her hand out of his face with a yell and followed it up with a vicious hook to her head. She fell to one knee but grabbed him by the crotch and yanked down. He howled in pain and released her knife hand.
She saw the opening and brought the knife down on his head. Blake closed the little remaining distance and rammed into her, upsetting her aim but still managed to connect with Kyle’s shoulder. Kyle shrieked, falling back and away from her as he tried to remove the blade from himself.
Blake tackled her, sending them both to the floor. She writhed around furiously with a strength he could barely believe given a woman of her size. “You fuckers! You killed Jed! You all deserve to go to fucking hell!” she screamed at him. He kept his head down as she thrashed around, unable to do anything but hold her down. Suddenly, he felt movement next to him and looked up in time to see Bree slam the butt of her rifle into Angel’s face, knocking her out cold. He let go of her and stood up, “Get control of the plane! The twins have been injured!”
Bree got into Kyle’s seat as Kyle rushed over to his brother. Blake felt the plane turn, and he looked out the front to see that they were in danger of rolling completely off the runway. “Bree!” he exclaimed.
“I see it!” she yelled as she continued to manipulate the controls to orient the plane back in the correct direction.
“Blake! He’s hurt really bad! Help me with him!” Kyle pleaded, panic in his voice.
Blake tore himself away from what was happening with the plane and looked over at Carrey. Blood was spurting out of Carrey’s neck, and his face had turned a pale shade of white. “Fuck! I need something to stop the bleeding!” he yelled as he tried to cover the wound with his hands. A moment later a shirt landed on the console in front of him. He grabbed it and used it to apply pressure to his neck. Within seconds, the shirt turned dark red. “Let’s lay him down!” Blake hurriedly told Kyle. Together they released him from his seat and moved him a little ways back where they gently laid him on the floor. Blake maintained the pressure on his neck while Kyle held his hand. “Come on Carrey! Stay with me!” Kyle said desperately.
“Hold this here, keep pressure on it!” Blake ordered, moving Kyle’s hands to the blood-soaked shirt. “I’m going back to get Herbie!” Kyle did as asked and Blake ran to the back.
He exploded into the cargo area and pointed at Herbie. “We need you up front!”
Herbie gave him a nod and swiftly undid his safety paraphernalia.
“What is going on?!” Gao wanted to know.
“Later,” Blake said in a rush as he headed back to the cockpit with Herbie right behind him.
Bree had belted herself into the other seat in the cockpit wearing military pants and a bra and was accelerating the plane down the runway trying to gain enough speed to get airborne. Kyle was kneeling next to his brother, trying to keep him from bleeding out. Angel was still passed out on the floor. Herbie took the whole situation in for a second. “Damn,” he said.
“I’m going to tie up the woman. Do what you can for the brothers,” Blake said. Herbie grunted in reply and squatted down next to Carrey. “Are we going to make it, Bree?” he said as he looked around the cockpit for rope.
“We’re about to find out,” she replied in a slightly higher pitched voice than was normal for her. They rapidly picked up speed and in a matter of fifteen seconds, Blake felt the tail come off the ground, then another fifteen seconds later, Bree gently got them airborne. Just as Blake was going to praise her, she moved suddenly with her feet and hands and the plane pulled hard to the right as she barely cleared a building past the end of the runway, throwing Blake off balance and into the side of the cockpit. There were shrieks in the back and he could hear stuff getting tossed around. Bree leveled out and nosed the plane up, gaining altitude.
“Wow!” he praised her. “I thought we were dead.”
“That’s still really possible,” Bree reminded him. “Which way do I point this thing?”
“Fly east,” he said immediately.
“Compass… compass…” she said, searching around. “Why east?” she asked as she carefully directed the plane in the specified direction.
“Don’t ask. You know why,” he replied as he walked to the back. Stuff had been thrown around everywhere, but Lisa, Doris, and Clayton had gotten up and were putting everything back. Bob had found Cammy’s lap and the girl looked up immediately when he came out of the cockpit. “Is everything ok?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Not exactly. The brothers were attacked. Herbie is helping them.” He said it loud enough so that anyone who was interested could hear it. Then in quieter voice for her, “He’ll be back as soon as he’s done.” He messed up her hair to her annoyance and walked over to look through the stuff as well, helping sort out some of the mess. It didn’t take long to find some duct tape. He grabbed it and went back up to the cockpit where he found Bree flying the plane and Herbie patching up Kyle. Angel was still face down on the floor. He straddled her, pulled some of the duct tape off the roll and bound her wrists behind her back. He wrapped the tape around ten times so that it was super secure. Then he repeated the process with her ankles. He pulled up her pants legs and applied the tape directly to her skin to further ensure that she wasn’t going anywhere. He tugged at the tape when he was done and decided she wouldn’t be getting out of that anytime soon. He rolled her on to her back and dragged her out of the cockpit. Curtis and Clayton gave him a curious look, but neither of them said anything. Lisa’s mouth fell open when she saw her.
“Is that- the biker guys wife?!” she asked, horrified. “I thought for sure she’d died when the zombies swarmed our house! Why’s she dressed like June Cleaver?!”
Blake thought about it for a beat and then responded with, “Yes. Me too. No clue, aren’t you a little young to be making that comparison?”
“Good television is good television,” she shrugged.
He didn’t have a response so he went back up front. Herbie was wiping his hands with a handkerchief, looking like a surgeon who’d just finished an operation. “How are they?” Blake asked.
“I’m... alright,” Kyle said from the pilot seat.
“That’s a relief,” Blake said brightly, “How’s Carrey?”
Kyle let out a horrible sob. Herbie cleared his throat and shook his head grimly.
“He’d just lost too much blood,” Bree said sadly.
“I’m... I’m sorry Kyle,” Blake offered after a moment.
Kyle slammed his fist against the side of the cockpit, tears leaking from his eyes.
No one said anything for what felt like a couple of minutes, and then Blake gently said, “Let me know if I can do anything for you, Kyle.”
“Fuck,” Kyle said as if in a daze.
Blake left him alone. He lost his twin brother. That has to be insanely traumatic. He’ll let us know if he needs anything. Best to get on with what we’re doing.
Kyle stood suddenly and walked over to his brother’s body, sitting down heavily next to him. He sat the body up and wrapped his arms around his chest, sobbing as he rocked back and forth.
Blake watched him for a little bit then sat down in the pilot’s seat. He looked at the instrumentation which seemed to have way more switches
and dials than would’ve seemed necessary for a plane that was designed more than sixty years ago. He watched her for a little bit as she held the plane steady, her feet manipulating the pedals. What the hell do the pedals do? “I thought you didn’t know how to fly,” he asked.
“I don’t know how to fly,” she told him.
“What? You sure could’ve fooled me,” he said in disbelief. “Look at you, you look like you’ve been doing this your whole life.”
“I can’t explain this!” she said, anger creeping into her voice, “Look... when I sat down, it all just felt... natural. But I’ve only flown like ten times my whole life, and that was in an economy seat on a jumbo jet!”
“Then... then how...?”
“Look, could you just shut up?” she asked, frustrated. “So far, I’ve figured out that that gauge,” she jabbed a finger at one of the many adorning the console, “tells you how high we are. And that’s about it. I don’t even know what these pedals do, but I’ve been pushing them and the plane does what I want it to do. And if you make me think about it too much, I’m not sure if I can keep this up!”