“It’s probably about time to uh,” Marty starts, biting his lip nervously, “to discuss what we do if we get there, and they’re already gone. I know you don’t want to, but it’s a scenario we have to face. Getting here has been a shitshow, and I think if we continue on, if they’re already gone and we try to fly to New York on our own, it’s gonna be more of the same. Are we really up for that?”
His question is met with silence. The truth is, I don’t think any of us know. How do you plan the rest of your life in a moment? Because that’s what we’re going to have to do. Do we chase a dream, or accept reality?
Something tells me, when those scientists touch down on the east coast, that’s it for America. They got who they needed, they’re packing up and leaving. How many lives must they have lost trying to defend the airport or military base or wherever it is they’re flying people out of? They’re not staying in this hellhole any longer than is absolutely necessary.
And there’s no way we can beat a jet to New York. If they’ve already left, we’re trapped here. I’m trying to come to terms with that now rather than later because news like that is what makes a person shut down.
“If Caylee’s not there,” Felecia says, fiddling with her fingers, unable to look up, “me, Noah, we’re gonna go search for her. We know the route they were planning on taking, we’ll follow it in reverse. Then head back to meet Norwood and Neil at the base.”
“I’ll fly you there,” Maxwell says in the brief moment she stops cursing at the dashboard. “We’ll cover more ground that way, fly low enough to scout the area.”
“Yeah.” Sami gives us a little half smile, resting her hand on Felecia’s knee. “Yeah, I wanna go with you guys and help you find Cayles. We’re a family now. I already lost one, and I’m not gonna lose another.”
“You know I’m down.” Marty shifts his gaze out the window, looking into the early morning sunrise. “Guys…”
He doesn’t need to say more, that one word says enough. Not the word itself, but the tone. The timing.
That’s it. In a valley between two shoulders of the mountain range, the airstrip. The classified military base. It’s built into the hillside, shrouded in the shadow of the mountains.
Jets! Jets, those are jets! Military aircraft, on the runway. With lights on. I can see blinking lights! They didn’t leave yet. We fucking did it. We won.
A warmth takes over me. It stings my eyelids and makes my lips tremble. My heartrate doubles what it was already doing, but in the best way possible. I feel at peace. Even if Caylee’s not onboard, if they left her behind somewhere, we can go back for her. We can make the military personnel wait for us. I don’t care if I have to hold every scientist we rescued hostage, they’re waiting until we all board that plane.
It takes a minute or so to sink in, but when it does, the confined space of our helicopter erupts in excitement, so loud I can barely hear my own thoughts. The cheering, the screaming, the laughing, the crying, we finally have reason to celebrate. There’s so many arms around so many shoulders, I don’t even know who I’m touching but it doesn’t matter, whoever it is, it’s family.
I don’t know how we did it, but we beat them here. We beat all the odds. Somehow, together, we did it. There are no words. Oh believe me, everyone’s trying, but it’s just coming out like garbled jibberish over trembling lips.
I don’t know what to think. I’m overwhelmed with emotions right now. We just did the impossible. Our ticket out of here is sitting right there on the runway. We’re there. I realize things can still go wrong, but even if America’s abandoned ship by the time we hit New York, we can refuel and make the transatlantic flight. If we have to go raid a library and find a flight instruction manual and teach ourselves how to fly that beast, we can.
“Okay, okay, okay,” Maxwell shouts, fanning her eyes until Felecia takes over for her, letting her get back to the control console. “I’m bringing us down. Everybody hang tight, this is probably gonna get bumpy, because I don’t know what in the hell I’m doing. Everyone, quiet time, I need to concentrate.”
“I’ll be damned,” Marty sighs, still shaking his head in disbelief as the lights from the airstrip grow closer.
“I said quiet,” Maxwell screeches, her entire body trembling like Mom’s back massager when it accidentally turns on in the nightstand next… to… her bed. And oh my god, that wasn’t a massager, was it? No, oh, gross. I thought because she had long days at work she’d need… I am an idiot.
“Man do you get testy when you’re flying,” Marty grumbles under his breath.
“It’s fucking stressful as fucking shit! Now shut the fuck up and let me try to land this fucking thing!”
He puts up both hands and backs away. I’ve only ever flown in video games, they made it seem easy. Her hands haven’t stopped moving the entire flight, and if I’m not mistaken, her legs as well. Not sure if she’s just tapping nervously or if helicopter flying involves your feet, kinda like playing the drums. Probably why there’s supposed to be two pilots.
I don’t know how she’s doing it, but she is, we’re landing!
The helicopter touching down jostles us all around, but ha, I’m not falling, no sir, I’m down on one knee just to make sure I don’t topple over. Not this close to the end, no more concussions for me, thank you very much.
“Um, Maxwell,” I ask cautiously, looking up from my kneeling position, “should you be out of the cockpit while this thing’s still moving?”
“Gonna have to,” she says, sliding the door open, “don’t know how to stop it. It’s rolling and showing no signs of slowing down. I’m not used to wheels. We gotta jump, just roll when you hit.”
“This bitch is serious,” Felecia squeals, watching as Maxwell throws herself from the helicopter. “I am so taking a four day bubble bath when this is all over.”
“Ditto,” Marty croaks, tossing himself onto the pavement.
We’re really doing this. This is like, cruising through city streets speed, not hop off a ski lift into the fluffy snow, speed. At least it’s only a few feet to the ground, I guess.
“Well,” Sami whines, “if they did it. Here goes nothing.” She makes the leap, tucking and rolling as soon as she hits the tar.
“Our life is awesome,” Felecia groans, flashing me a smile before we jump at the same time.
It’s probably less safe this way, going in tandem, but I think we threw safety out the window days ago. Let’s face it, this is the least dangerous thing we’ve done all week. I’ve taken potty breaks that were more death defying than this. But we’re still jumping out of a moving vehicle and I don’t need to like it.
You know what, it doesn’t matter. We’re there. We made it. Bring on the ouchy pavement. We’re finally leaving this shithole!
CHAPTER 39
I hold my breath until we hit the unforgiving pavement and roll.
I’m not even gonna know how many bumps and bruises I’ll get from this because they’ll just blend in with the ones that are already there. I won’t know if these are new scratches or if it just opened up old ones. Felecia better have room in that bathtub for me, I’m gonna need it.
Do you think they have those massage chairs in England, like the ones in the mall? I’m gonna need to sit in one of those for about a week, after finally crawling out of the bathtub.
I don’t even know which foot I’m limping on when I make it back to standing position, trying to stop the world from spinning around me. This is not good for the concussion. Who’s where now?
I didn’t used to get dizzy. I was the one who could go on the spinny rides at the carnival and not get sick. I was eating fried dough while the guys were yakking behind the Gravitron. How many times have I hit my head out here in the deadlands of America?
Felecia’s hands find me, keeping me vertical as the world spins. Everything’s all jumbled and out of order, like those little sliding puzzles we used to get in gift bags at birthday parties. I hated those stupid things. If I liked the p
icture, I’d just leave it and pretend I already messed it up and put it back together.
If she wasn’t here, holding my hand, I would have faceplanted by now. But everything’s starting to slow down. I can almost put the puzzle together. Still feel like I’m gonna spew chunks behind the Gravitron with the others though.
“Thank you, it’s going away, I just need a second.”
“Are you kidding? You don’t need to thank me. We’re Nolecia, remember? That’s like thanking yourself for making dinner. Which I probably should’ve warned you about earlier, not exactly my strong suit. I think Cayles is gonna have to cook for us. God, she better be alright.”
The landscape around me is coming back together. The control tower is finally where it’s supposed to be, I was assuming it wasn’t a floating building because Felecia probably would have mentioned that, but it sure did look like it was to me.
“Sorry,” Maxwell grumbles, jogging down the runway to us as the helicopter rolls off the landing strip. “I panicked. I know what buttons I had to hit now, I just couldn’t figure it out on the spot. You okay?” she asks, looking into my eyes.
“His head got a little rattled in the jump,” Felecia answers for me, rubbing my scalp like I’m a sleepy puppy. You know, it’s not so bad. I see why dogs like it.
“Want me to find you a helmet?” she asks, trying to stay straight faced before her grin breaks through.
“Oh ha ha, yeah, real mature.”
“If you do,” Felecia says, “can you make it a Barbie one?”
“I’m not wearing a Barbie helmet.” I shake my head in protest, shooing them away. “Unless it has those little floppy rubber spikes on top, like a mohawk. Otherwise, don’t even bother. And then you’re gonna have to find me tassels for my sword. And a pink horn. And a basket.”
“Talk about a diva complex,” Maxwell sneers through her smile. “Felecia, you got your hands full with this one… You’re a lucky girl.”
“Don’t I know it,” she whispers, pulling me into her side, cautiously eyeing the figures emerging from the building.
Are they… people? They’re not moving like they’re infected. If they were, they’d be running, arms flailing, slobber flying. Not these men, they’re walking calmly. A handful of them, all in uniform. I take that back, I think there’s a woman amongst them.
This is real. These are the military leaders Maxwell told us were waiting here, waiting for the scientists. The scientists we rescued. So why do they have their guns drawn?
“Stand down, it’s her,” one of them shouts as they close the distance between us.
“Lieutenant Maxwell? You’re… alive? Stop stop stop,” a man in a fancy military suit says, dismissing her salute. The amount of medals on his jacket means he’s got to be an extremely high ranking officer, stick another one on there and he’ll tip over. “Skip the formalities. We were told… I thought… You’re not dead?”
“With all due respect sir, me and my friends, we’re not that easy to kill.”
“Britton, Harmon?” he asks, bewildered, pointing at me and Felecia. “This is them?”
“In the flesh,” Max says, grinning from ear to ear, pulling us under her arms.
“Holy fucking shit, you’re alive. Pardon my language. Men…”
All, what must be twelve of them, stand at attention, holding their hands to their foreheads in a harmonized salute. I don’t even know how I’m supposed to respond to this. The only thing I can think to do is salute them back. Maxwell and Felecia are doing it as well so it mustn’t be too far from proper protocol.
Marty points at us with both hands and begins clapping, shaking his head in disbelief. “Son of a bitch, you guys did it. You really fucking did it,” he laughs as the others join in the ovation. “I’m not even gonna lie, I thought this was impossible.”
“I still don’t… I don’t understand,” the one who’s clearly in charge says, still clapping. “Collins and Rodriguez, they said you didn’t make it.”
“Yeah.” Maxwell nods, the fire in her eyes extinguished by pure elation. “We didn’t make it because they didn’t let us. They probably told you that under gunpoint. You’ve been in contact with them?”
“We have. What the hell’s going on here? Joseph Buckley, big gun man, he’s on there with them, and about fifteen others. We were under the impression he extracted the scientists from the Sonny Valley facility, and that you all fell in combat.”
“Oh is that what he told you?” Marty scoffs, brushing his mustache to keep him from punching something.”
“No sir,” Maxwell says with a shake of her head. “That would be these two, along with Dustin Norwood, who rescued the scientists, and damn near lost their lives in the process. Buckley snuck onto the bird and held them at gunpoint. He still has hostages. What’s their ETA?”
“Half an hour ago. We haven’t heard from them since they left a private airport just north of here, along 78. They had to stop for an emergency refueling. We lost contact. They were no more than fifteen minutes out. We were just about to send a search party, problem is, this is all of us. We’ve managed to hold off the infects, but we’ve lost a lot. They come in droves, randomly. You’ve been out there with them,” he says, turning his attention to me and Felecia, “level with me here. Is there any solution?”
“You mean, you don’t know?” Felecia asks, confused. “Buckley didn’t tell you?”
“Tell us what? Is there a way? A weakness? We know bullets are useless…”
“Buckley doesn’t know,” I whisper slowly, more to myself than them. “Neither does Shane. We didn’t tell Paul. They don’t know, the others must not have told them. Saltwater. The ocean. Saline. It combats the infection. It causes them to deteriorate. That’s what the scientists from Preventasis used to stop the lab mice from falling to the infection.”
“Wait, hold on, you’re telling me saltwater is the solution?”
“Yes. If you take it immediately after being bitten, it stops the transformation. It doesn’t cure it after the fact, but it will stop you from turning into one of them. When it hits their open wounds, it’s like acid.”
He covers his mouth with his hand, shaking his head, unable to believe the words I’m telling him. “That’s why they’ve only crossed the ocean via airline. How did we not see this?”
“Because everyone’s too busy running, and shooting at them, trying to stay alive,” I say, resting my hand on his shoulder, mostly to steady myself. “It’s alright, we were out here fighting them for four days before we realized it, and that was only by accident. If we don’t let it hit the islands, they won’t cross the ocean. You don’t need explosives, you need firehoses full of saltwater. You need squirt guns over machine guns.”
“I’ll be damned. You’re one hundred percent sure about this?”
Felecia lifts her bandage to reveal the bite mark. “Pretty freakin’ sure.”
“You’re infected,” he gasps.
“We both are.” There is no way I’m letting them run tests on her and not me, we’re Nolecia, we do everything together. Package deal.
He stares at us for a long moment before glancing in Maxwell’s direction. She doesn’t break his gaze, standing there, legs spread, hands crossed behind her back, not a smile, not a nod, nothing. It’s like she’s testing him. I’m not sure I understand this game but there’s no doubt in my mind, it’s being played.
“Bryant,” he finally shouts, “get New York on the line. The five of you, come with me, we’ll get you cleaned up and boarded. No offense but you don’t exactly smell the freshest. Ocean, mixed with sweat, and, is that urine?”
Maxwell looks down bashfully. “We had some extremely close calls out there, sir.”
“I went number two,” he says with a subtle head nod, followed by a loud clearing of his throat. “Follow me. Chavez, we need to assemble a search party, find that chopper. We need those damn scientists, they might just be able to stop this.”
“We’ll have time to get cleaned up
later,” I say, stopping in my tracks. “Our friends are on that helicopter. We need to go find them.”
“Son, leave that to us. You’re in no shape to go back out there.”
“No, we have to,” Felecia says for me.
“Don’t bother trying to stop them.” Maxwell puts up her hands in forfeit. “Trust me, it doesn’t work. Do not leave without us. What channel are we on?” she asks, leading us to a running Hummer beside the building, presumably for their search party.
No wait, Hummer’s not exactly right, that makes it sound like it should be driven through the city streets by some douche nozzle who needs to make his little winky feel bigger. I think Humvee is the technical term, it’s got a damn machine gun popping out of the roof. The kind of machine gun that would make douche nozzle feel like he’s packing a log of salami between his legs.
“Channel twelve. Are you sure you can’t be talked out of this? Can I send someone with you?”
“Not necessary,” Maxwell smiles, tapping the hood. “Make sure everything’s ready to go. When we get back, I have a feeling we won’t be alone. We’re going to need one speedy take off.”
“Let me guess,” Sami grumbles, “kids in the back?”
“You got it Squirt.” Marty rubs her head playfully, nudging her along.
I climb in behind Felecia, careful not to bump my head on the frame. Maybe I do need a helmet. One of those cool, rock climbing ones, not a pretty pink Barbie helmet.
Maxwell hops in the passenger seat like it was preplanned, you’d expect her to want to drive. “Alright guys, it’s okay, we were prepared for this. Let’s go finish it. One more time?”
“One more time,” we echo in unison.
CHAPTER 40
These last five days have really kicked my ass. I can pretend I’m ready to keep fighting all I want, but the truth is, my body can’t go much further. Even after resting on two different flights, a few car rides, the boat, the trailer, I’m still drained. I get up feeling like I can take on the world, and two minutes later, I’m done.
Blood Type Infected (Book 5): The Departed Page 24
