Shelter for Now

by Bob Howard

  The last time we had come to Green Cavern, there was a unique hazard we were hoping had run its course. Bodies were falling over the cliff from above.

  Just like Mud Island and Lake Norman, every shelter had something outside that appeared to be a place of refuge for survivors. That way, the survivors wouldn’t investigate any further. The mountain that hid the shelter inside Green Cavern had a small town built on top of it, and the town had been populated by survivors when the infection spread. The problem was that someone made a hole in the wall that surrounded the town, and the infected were thrown through the hole. Eventually, there were too many infected outside the walls, and they began falling into the lake right in front of the entrance to Green Cavern.

  Getting in or out of the Cavern meant dodging falling bodies, not an easy thing to do in a boat or seaplane. The soldiers were told to approach carefully, and hopefully the body storm had abated over time.

  They were also warned that the infected that landed close enough to shore could walk up the gentle slope of the bank at the cavern entrance, and some could be either in the water or already inside the cavern.

  We listened to their radio reports as they approached, and there were no bodies dropping from above. There also didn’t appear to be any inside the cavern. That meant they were either in the water or had wandered too far into the cavern.

  Since our maps and reference information showed there were one hundred and eight square miles of lakes, time had allowed the infected to become spread out as they filled the lake. That was almost as big as Atlanta, so they had plenty of room to spread out. None of us would recommend swimming there, but it was becoming less likely that you could run into the infected in the water.

  The soldiers found the remote and had lowered the ceiling elevator. We waited until we got a radio transmission that they were safely inside, and then the signal was given to begin our trip to Columbus.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  STAYING WARM WAS possible during their first winter in John Glenn International Airport, but that didn’t make the crew of Executive One feel lucky. Before the infection some people who lived in Columbus would talk about anything except winter. That was an off-limits subject. There were colder places in the world, but that didn’t make them feel better, either.

  When the temperature started getting down below freezing, they added layers of clothing. They all knew their feet needed to be kept warm, but they almost learned the hard way that your feet will sweat and get cold, so they had to change their socks more often. Fortunately, there were plenty of socks and pantyhose in airport luggage. The men balked at first, but the women convinced them to try the pantyhose, and they finally gave in.

  When it got even colder, which was hard for them to believe, they used some of their precious battery power in their plane to run the microwave.

  Mike liked to camp during his off time between flights, and he had learned some crazy survival techniques. There was an Asian restaurant in the terminal, so they weren’t surprised when they found a tremendous supply of rice. Susan had joked about them not going hungry, but Mike was the one who told them it would help them stay warm in the winter. He searched the terminal and found enough fleece to sew together a pile of small bags filled with rice. He warmed the bags in the microwave and then shoved them into the bottoms of the sleeping bags they had made from coats and blankets. Surprisingly, the rice bags stayed warm most of the night, and so did they.

  On sunny days, the large windows of the terminal would heat small sections for the survivors, but the ceilings were so high that the heat was quickly lost. They were forced to put doors over their access points in the ceilings because of the updrafts they created. In the end, they stayed covered at night and moved around during the day to stay warm.

  The security office was a treasure trove of useful equipment, and when they found binoculars they didn’t seem half as important as the guns, flashlights, or foul weather gear. They were added to the inventory the crew had compiled.

  When Sim remembered the binoculars, he knew how much he needed them. He also had to get as high as he could to be able to see in all directions. He had navigated planes for so long that it was only natural for him to map the ceilings of the terminal, but when he finished that chore, he wanted to start learning more about the area around the airport.

  When he talked it over with Jon, the copilot wasn’t too sure it was going to make a difference if they learned the terrain or not. He pointed out to Sim that there were just as many of the infected out there now as there had been when they first landed.

  Sim wasn’t sold on the idea that there were more infected, but he was sold on the idea of knowing which way they should go if they ever tried to leave the airport.

  The open area over the security office gave him what he needed. He went there because he knew he could at least see the runways without the infected seeing him. Once he had managed to scale the low wall that kept the unsightly air conditioning and heating units hidden, he was able to begin circling the terminal, and he was surprised to find maintenance doors that gave him access to other parts of the roof even higher than before.

  Sim spent weeks during the warmer weather circling the top of the airport and making notes on a stack of maps. When the weather got colder, he was so busy mapping that he didn’t realize it at first, but the infected were moving slower. Not only that, there weren’t as many as before.

  When he told the rest of the crew about what he had seen, there had been several days of debates about making a break for it when the weather got really cold. He was convinced that they could find a place that was much more secure than the airport, and that their supplies couldn’t last forever.

  When they put it to a vote, they were tied at three votes for and three votes against leaving, but Anne hadn’t voted yet. In a lot of ways, she was even more experienced than the pilot, and at the age of fifty she was so used to people asking for her opinion that she seldom ever offered it unless she was asked.

  This was one of those times. She listened to the debates without saying anything, weighing one side then the other. It made sense that the airport was limited to whatever they could find, but it also made sense when Jon, their copilot, said there were a lot of people out there who would love to have a place like the airport to hole up.

  When Susan voted that they should leave the airport, Anne knew it was only because Susan wanted to try to reach home where she would be safe with her husband and three-year-old son. Anne doubted Susan would ever see home again, and neither would she, for that matter.

  Addison also sided with Sim, but Anne noticed how the young flight attendant seemed to hang on to every word that Sim said, and she especially liked calling him by his nickname. Anne didn’t believe the attraction was enough reason to give up the safety of the airport terminal, but she tried not to let that be her deciding factor.

  The pilot and copilot were sticking together, and Sim tried to make an issue of that, saying it was only because they had flown together so many times, but even Susan and Addison didn’t agree with his reasoning.

  Sim was ready to leave the airport on his own when Garrett asked Anne what she thought.

  “How long have we been here?” asked Anne.

  “Several months,” answered Sim a bit more harshly than he intended.

  “I’m sorry, Anne. This place is getting to me, and it’s getting colder every day.”

  “That was my reason for asking, Sim. Ever been through an Ohio winter before? There are lots of places that get colder, but it always feels colder here.”

  “What are you getting at, Anne?” asked Mike.

  The lone male flight attendant had sided with the pilot and copilot and been accused of siding with the men, but the expressions on the faces of the entire crew had been enough for Sim to apologize immediately.

  “I think we wouldn’t last a day out there because we wouldn’t be just trying to keep from being bitten. We would be freezing to the bone at the same time. It’
s kind of hard to stop and build a campfire when Jack Frost is nipping at your nose and dead people are nipping at everything else.”

  The rest of the crew was totally quiet. Most of them were inspecting their fingernails or some spot on a piece of clothing, but it was Sim who broke the silence.

  “Jack Frost?”

  He didn’t think he would ever quit laughing, and everyone was wiping tears away from their cheeks by the time they got done.

  “Where did you come up with that, Anne? I have to admit, the visual even had me changing my mind. Too cold to go. I get it.”

  The decision was made that they would stay, but once it got warmer they would talk about it again. They also agreed it would give them time to be rescued, and it would give them time to figure out where they should go if they weren’t rescued. They also would have a chance to find out if those creatures could freeze to death, and if they did, they could consider whether or not they should go further north to the Great Lakes.

  As the seasons changed, the crew of Executive One became more and more like family and neighbors, and just like any family or neighbor, there were disagreements and changes in the relationships.

  Garrett Carson had been a pilot for too long to be anything except the father figure he had always been toward his crews. No matter how long the flight or how many times he flew with the same people, he felt a sense of responsibility that kept him from feeling attractions. Addison Yancy had become his daughter. When she started thinking too much about her parents or the young boyfriend she had left behind, Garrett’s broad shoulders were where she would turn.

  Eventually she and Mike Wood began spending more time together, and the prospect of romance was enough to keep both of them going.

  Anne Hill had maintained the composure for the group on more than one occasion. Sim had accepted the agreement to wait through the winter before trying to venture out from the airport, but he was like a caged animal at times. He didn’t mean to take his frustrations out on everyone else, but sometimes his temper just boiled over. Anne couldn’t help but notice she had far more gray hair than the day when they had taken off from Andrews Air Force Base with the President of the United States on board. It seemed like yesterday at times, and it was also such a distant memory that sometimes she felt like it didn’t happen.

  One night when they were all bundled up and huddled together inside a makeshift shelter they had built in the corner of one of the restaurants, Sim confessed to them that he had decided to leave without any of them knowing it.

  They were all surprised, especially since they could still see the infected wandering around outside. There weren’t as many, and they were moving slower because it was so cold, but there were still far too many to get far without being seen by them.

  Jon King and Susan Morris were close to each other in age, so it wasn’t really a surprise to anyone that their common losses and grief had made them close to each other. When Sim made his confession, Jon and Susan were together under a blanket sharing their body warmth.

  “Why would you do that?” asked Jon. “You know what it’s like out there. If the infected don’t get you, the cold will.”

  “I’m the odd man out,” said Sim. “I’m not saying you guys wouldn’t be glad to get back to your families, but at least you have each other.”

  “You have all of us, too, Sim. You know that,” said Garrett.

  “You know what I mean, boss. It’s not the same thing.”

  All of them called Garrett “boss” when they wanted to make a point about who was in charge. Even now, Sim didn’t say it in a derogatory way. It was more of a sad sounding term of respect.

  No one could really find a way to make it sound like Sim was wrong. Each of them searched in vain to come up with a way to say that he had as much to live for as they did, but no matter how they said it, Sim said it had nothing to do with living. It had everything to do with how they lived.

  The subject dropped, but during the night when Sim said he had to go to the bathroom, he didn’t come back. After it became a prolonged trip from the warmth of the shelter, the rest of the crew split up into pairs and began the search. It didn’t take long for them to know Sim must have gone up through one of the ceilings, and wherever he was trying to go in the middle of a cold, snowy night, he had too much of a head start for them to find him.

  Over precious cups of coffee from their dwindling supplies, the remainder of the crew spent the rest of the night talking about Terrance Simmons and hoping he found a way to be safe.

  ******

  Sim felt colder than he had ever been in his life, but he thought all he had to do was make it one day at a time. He knew he wanted to head south even though the warmer climate meant more chance of meeting with the infected, but he didn’t think there was a reason to stay where it got so cold that they could hear your teeth chattering.

  He had followed his usual path through the ceilings until he reached the spot where he had put together a small stash of supplies. He felt guilty about taking them from his friends, but he told himself he wasn’t taking more than his share. As a matter of fact, he could take less because he could find more supplies on the road.

  Sim gathered together his traveling gear and climbed out onto the broad, flat roof of the main terminal. His goal was an access ladder he had found that was originally sealed off by a steel gate and a lock. He had removed the lock well in advance and even made one exploratory trip down the ladder. In daylight he had found that it came down behind a row of luggage trams that had been parked in a way that was to his advantage. If he found there were too many infected nearby, he could climb over the trams faster than they could.

  Snow was swirling around him as he started down the ladder, and he almost slipped on the icy metal rungs several times. He felt lucky that they had found cold weather gear in abundance when they searched maintenance areas, and the gloves were keeping his fingers from freezing. He still couldn’t believe people actually chose to live in such a cold place.

  A few feet from the bottom of the ladder Sim stopped and listened for the low moaning sound those monsters made. He used to think they only made that sound when they were after people, but he had heard them from the safety of the roof many times before the cold weather came, and he knew they just made the sound because that was something they did.

  They also stood still for long periods of time for no particular reason, and that’s what scared him even more than the moaning and groaning. At least then he knew where they were.

  Satisfied that there wasn’t anything to hear, Sim went down another rung. He tried to adjust his eyes to the darkness and the swirling snow, but all he could see was big, dark shapes. He couldn’t tell if there was anything else.

  Two more rungs down, and his feet would be at the end of the ladder. That would put him just within reach of anything standing in the dark that he couldn’t see. He listened again and decided that this wouldn’t be the last chance he would have to take. He extended his left leg downward and reached for the ground with his toes. He was committed now, and if something was there, he wouldn’t be able to get away from it. He braced himself for the bite he imagined would hurt worse than the cold, and slowly got both feet onto the ground. He kept his hands above his head on the ladder and listened, but the pounding of his heart would have drowned out almost everything else.

  It was too dark for him to see the infected that were standing nearby, but it wasn’t too dark for him to see his own breath. He let it out in one big burst, not realizing that he had been holding it in. It sounded like a gust of wind, and there had been plenty of such gusts every cold night, but at the end of his exhale, he heard a groan, and he only needed to say one word.

  “No.”

  That brought out a chorus of groans from all around him, and they were close.

  The ladder wasn’t an option, and Sim knew it. His legs would have been ripped to shreds before he could pull them to safety. He felt something tugging at him from behind, but he saw movem
ent out of the corner of his right eye at the same time, so he spun in that direction first.

  He would never know how that single move had saved him from an infected dead that had grabbed his backpack. As he spun to his right to face the infected he had seen, the infected behind him had been unable to let go of the straps, so it had spun along with him until it hit hard against the metal ladder. The impact would have knocked a living person unconscious, but the emaciated head of the infected dead cracked like an egg. In the darkness Sim felt as if his backpack was lighter.

  Sim fell forward with all of his weight onto the infected that he had turned to face. They both went down hard onto the nearest luggage tram, and the infected stopped moving. Its head had hit the tram just right.

  Sim lifted his head from where he was laying on top of the grisly mess that used to be a person. All he could see was the dark shapes of the trams and the long ago unclaimed luggage that was piled with snow. He would have given anything to use his flashlight just for a moment, but he forced himself to stay calm and wait.

  There was a plane sitting on the tarmac not far away, and it seemed to blend in with the snow and the darkness at the same time, but all Sim could do was focus on the extended wheel struts. His eyes kept trying to tell him that there were people or infected dead standing still next to the wheels.

  After several moments of doubt and wondering if he could make it back up the ladder, Sim crawled off of the body and stayed on the ground. He was thinking how crazy he had been to try this at night. At least in daylight he would have been able to start covering some ground. He didn’t know how much time had passed already, but he didn’t consider this to be progress,

  He came to a gap between the trams and saw he had just enough light to be able to tell there was nothing moving in his path, so he eased himself forward and began a halfhearted jog away from the terminal. For the first time in months he felt alive.