Drawing back the curtain, she stumbled away in sudden fright, and fell against the wall, knocking the back of her head. Sue’s face came abruptly into view. She had turned completely, her skin drawn and sallow in a cadaverous, high cheek-bone look that would not be out of place in Hollywood, apart from the drool and the white eyes, of course. Her mouth open, she gurgled unintelligible words as her hands stretched out like claws, trying to grab hold of Becky.
Rob, quick to react, punched her hard in the chest, pushing her back into the berth. He couldn’t bring himself to strike her in the face, but the blow had the same effect.
“Where are the restraints?” Daniel called to the purser. Mutely, she pointed to an overhead compartment. Daniel reached up and pulled down a large bag of white ties. Pulling out a handful, he and Rob struggled, trying to grab the girl’s flailing arms, all the while trying not be bitten by the gnashing teeth. All of a sudden she went limp, and both were able to grab a wrist each. That was when she attacked again, her teeth snapping at their hands. She had feigned resignation. Clunk, her teeth connected with Rob’s wrist watch, securing themselves to it with the vice-like grip of a bull terrier.
“Shit!” Rob shouted in fear, “get her off me!”
Sue’s focus on Rob had enabled Daniel to tie her right hand to the edge anti-roll bar, so he was now able to help his friend. Drawing his pistol, he smashed her over the head with the butt. She fell back onto the bed, cold-cocked.
Rob jumped back, a look of revulsion and fear on his face, and watched Daniel secure her remaining limbs to the same rail.
“God dammit,” Rob exclaimed, “this is the last one we try to secure. If they’ve turned, I’m gonna kill them, and no more messing-the-fuck-about!”
Daniel agreed; the risks seemed too great to warrant this folly, especially if they couldn’t even be cured, so what was the point of saving them? Still, she was a crew member, and the duo needed the crew’s help, so capping one of their number probably wasn’t the best option; not yet.
“You okay? Let’s see your wrist.” Daniel asked. Rob took off his watch and threw it down; it was dripping with saliva and blood. His wrist showed no signs of the skin being broken, he had been really lucky.
“Your long-suffering guardian angel has just popped out to the pub for a nerve steadier,” Daniel joked.
As a precaution, he wanted Rob’s wrist washed with disinfectant. Rifling through a first aid kit that had been stored with the ties, he found an antiseptic lotion.
“Here you go,” he said, handing the tube over. Rob rubbed it in like there was no tomorrow. The look of revulsion was gone, but Daniel could tell he was still deeply shaken and disturbed by what had just happened.
“No more risks. I have to get back to Sandra, man.” He blinked away a tear, his eyes moist with the effort of keeping his emotions in check.
“No more risks.” Daniel said, clapping his hand on his friend’s shoulder.
The struggle over, Becky stood up once more and, shaking visibly, her face pale, she walked unsteadily out of the sleeping quarters. She had to get a grip on her fear, she thought, rubbing the back of her head. It was still sore and throbbed from the impact with the wall. She breathed deeply, resisting the urge to throw up; never had she felt so at risk on a plane, and she had been doing this job for over twenty years.
“You okay?” Daniel asked, putting his hand on her shoulder.
“I will be,” she replied, coughing to clear her throat.
“And that was just a slow one,” Rob said. “Let’s get the rest restrained. And now.”
Becky had been thinking of the best place to put the high risk passengers. “I think we should put the infected passengers upstairs, and towards the back. We can tie them to the seats.” If she placed the other crew and passengers forward, it would also maintain some weight balance for the plane, although with so few passengers, it was more of an excuse than a real issue. Her main and overriding desire was that seating them like this would also ensure those things remained as far away as possible.
“Sounds good to me. If we split up, we can have this thing done quickly. Rob and I can each accompany one of your guys, so we have the authority to get people to move; you can tie them down as we bring them to you.”
She nodded in agreement. “This is giving me the creeps,” Becky said, nervously looking over her shoulder. “Let’s get on with it.” They walked to the nearest galley, where she briefed a couple of the beefier male crew members on this thankless task. Rob and Daniel split up, and with a member of staff at their side, began to move passengers to the appropriate section of the plane. There was a small number who argued, not wanting to leave their relatives or friends to this undignified fate. The authority of the cabin crew was bolstered by the fact that Rob and Daniel were carrying weapons, the ultimate decision makers. In the end, these protesting passengers were allowed to accompany their sick to the back of the aircraft.
In less than fifteen minutes, the distressing task was completed. Becky’s cabin crew really were an efficient team, their effective manner in dealing with distraught relatives, gentle but firm, really had made this a much easier task than Daniel cold have wished for. As it turned out, four of the sick were clearly on the turn, and if they hadn’t reacted when they did to sort the situation, the aircraft’s fuselage would have become a charnel house in a few more minutes.
Tying the last one down, Becky appeared visibly relieved, and helped herself to another fortifying whiskey. Daniel walked up behind her, and helped himself to one as well.
“Is there anywhere else an infected person could be hiding?” he asked, “we’ve checked all the toilets, staff quarters. Is there anywhere we might have missed?”
“The cargo deck is the only possible place a person could hide. Oh, and the systems room, but that’s usually locked.”
“The systems room?”
“Yes, it houses the computers needed to run the plane, but as I said, it’s always locked.”
“Can we check it, and also, we need to seal off the cargo area, just in case.”
“The cargo area is sealed by customs before we take-off, well, normally.” The penny dropped, her fear rising once more. “Oh, my God, you don’t think one of those things could be hiding down there, do you?”
“It’s a possibility, it was open to the outside for quite a while when the plane was on the ground, wasn’t it?”
“I guess so.”
“So it needs to be sealed off. I’m not risking going down there unless I have to. You saw how viciously Sue fought us.”
“No more risk,” Becky said, echoing the lads’ earlier sentiment.
“Exactly. Right, let me get Rob, before we do the system room.”
“Do you think we’ll have trouble, then?”
“Who knows, but he is a systems guy, so he’d probably like to take a look.” Daniel smiled; his friend would be like a kid in a candy store.
Daniel found him in the galley nearest the infected. He had recovered the pen knife from Becky’s personal locker, and was slicing neat crosses in the heads of more bullets.
“Hey, man. I’ve got more ammo for you,” he said, handing Danny another clip. “Here, Becky, keep a hold of this, you never know when it might come in handy,” Rob said as he handed the knife over, unapologetic that he had been through her personal locker.
“So Rob, you wanna come with me?” Daniel asked. “We’re going to check out the systems room. You up for that?”
“Oh, yeah,” he replied, almost licking his lips in anticipation. Together they walked forward, descending below the level of the flight deck. Becky keyed in her passcode, and the door clicked open. Met with a loud rushing sound, mostly caused by the server cooling system, she pushed the door open, cautiously. To her left was a rack of servers, their blue, red, and yellow lights flashing quietly. Sitting on a stool in front of a computer screen was a young man, intent on the information flashing in front of him. Becky froze, this room was supposed to be clear of pers
onnel.
Rob put his hand on Becky’s arm, drawing her back to the doorway. Daniel moved forward, and together the two men stepped quietly towards the intruder, drawing their firearms in anticipation of the worst. They could see the side profile of the intruder, who was drooling and mumbling to himself.
“I’ve never yet seen a system worth drooling over,” Rob quipped quietly. “Metaphorically maybe, but not actually drooling.” Daniel couldn’t help but grin a little. Twelve hours ago they were scared out of their wits, fearing death. Now they were cracking jokes, what the hell was that about?
The man became aware of them now; his head turned towards them in a lightning-fast move.
“Shit! He’s a fast one,” Rob exclaimed. No time to say anything else, they both opened fire as the creature roared and leapt at them, with a look of pure hate in his eyes. Caught in mid-air as both shots found their target, the savage face now showed a look of surprise as one bullet entered his forehead slightly to the left, while the other took off his jaw and buried itself in the chest. Neither round had passed through the target, the cross-cuts had actually worked. The body crashed heavily to the floor, and lay still. Blood began to flow thickly across the aluminium floor, the grip moulding slowing its flow.
“Becky, can you get some paper towels? We can’t let the blood drip into any systems.” Rob asked.
Acknowledging the question with a nod, she left the room. Returning a moment later, she passed them some of rolls of absorbent paper, and they began wiping up the deck.
“Who is he?” Becky asked. Daniel looked through the dead man’s pockets and found a wallet. In it, a plastic card identified him as an airline employee, a systems analyst.
“Zombie systems analyst,” Rob replied, looking over Danny’s shoulder.
“How can you tell the difference?” Daniel responded, earning him a thump on his shoulder.
“Don’t forget, we left with no real warning,” Rob mused, “perhaps he was already aboard, and sick when we took off. They do seem to have a tendency to continue with what they did in life, at least until they are disturbed.”
“I’ve never seen anyone move like that,” Becky said, her arms wrapped tightly around her chest in a self-assuring hug. “How can anyone move that fast, especially if they are ill? And I can’t believe how casual you two are about all this.”
“We weren’t when this all kicked off, but we’ve gained a little experience today,” Rob assured her, “try not to think of what they were in life, that sort of thinking will slow you down, and get you killed - and eaten.”
“I’ll try,” she agreed, still wondering if that was really possible.
Rob was watching the information updating on the screen and, after looking over the system units, declared that the man had probably not done anything adverse, certainly as far as he could tell.
“We’d better update the captain, he may have heard the shots and is wondering what’s going on,” Daniel suggested; the cockpit was just above their heads. “Actually, Rob, can you do that? I want to check on Janet and the kids. Then we can sort the cargo hold.”
“Yeah, sure. I’d like to see the cockpit anyway.”
“Men,” Becky said, as if it explained a raft of inexplicable things in the world.
Daniel sat down next to Janet, who was just starting to wake up. The kids were still out cold, someone had covered them with blankets; he smiled, they looked peaceful for a change.
“Everything okay?” Janet asked, holding his hand. She must have woken in his absence, as she was nursing the rifle on her lap, clearly she wasn’t as relaxed as she looked. Rob and I will have to sort the rifle bullets, he thought. Right now they would be guaranteed to pass through their targets, and then through the fuselage walls.
“Yeah,” he replied, “we’ve moved the infected passengers back to the rear of the plane, and tied them down. They can’t do any harm now. The healthy ones were moved to the front, downstairs. The crew are keeping a close eye on them, in case any others get sick; if they do they will need to be taken out of that group.”
“Why didn’t we get it?” she asked, a frown on her face. “Could we still get it?”
“I’ve been asking myself that all day. I don’t have an answer, but I’ve got some ideas.”
“Yes?”
“I think our bodies were either fighting off a cold this morning, and our body’s resistance was enhanced enough to protect us, or maybe we were just fighting off this infection, pure and simple. We don’t seem to have the cold now, do we?” he asked rhetorically.
“God, you’re right,” she replied, sniffing experimentally. “So we’ve either gotten over a cold, which is unlikely in this short amount of time, or we’ve got whatever this is?”
“Well, I didn’t say that, but maybe we are immune, somehow.”
“What about Rob? Did he have a cold?”
“Not that I remember. He was indoors in the systems lab all night, Sunday night. Maybe the filtered air protected him from whatever it was. The fact that so many people had it at the same time, sort of suggests this thing was airborne. If that’s the case, the disease didn’t remain in the air very long, if that’s even how it was transmitted; I’m making an assumption on that. So when he came out, there was nothing for him to catch, because it was gone.”
“You can catch it from a bite,” Janet said, in a matter of fact tone. She’d seen Paul succumb in the library.
“Yep, I’m sorry that happened to Paul.” He squeezed her hand. “We have to be careful.”
“What are we flying into, by going to America?” Janet wondered.
“Good question, love. I’m still finding it hard to believe we’ve just thrown away fifteen years of work and home-building by getting on this plane. It’s not often I’m grateful for being an orphan, but now is really one of those times. You?”
“I’m not sure grateful is the right word, but I know what you mean. Perhaps that makes us selfish, but maybe we could look at this as a new start? I suspect ‘normality’ is just going to be a word from now on. Anyway, we do have a responsibility bigger than any house.” She nodded towards the kids. “Should we have done more to find their relatives, if they have any? I feel a bit guilty about taking them with us to America.”
“What else could we have done? England was dying in that shit storm, and we had to make an immediate decision about going with Rob. They weren’t exactly forthcoming about relatives. Maybe they are more like us than we know.”
“You might be right. I guess we’ll never know unless they tell us. So, tell me, Mr Pilgrim, where are we going?”
“It’s hard to say right now. I can’t see us landing anywhere on the east coast, the infection seemed to be rife there, at least when we took off. Perhaps we can land in the mid-west. That would sure as hell suit Rob; I hope Sandra is alright.”
“So do I.”
Daniel looked at his watch; four hours had passed, probably another four or five to go until they reached land, only another couple at most before they reached US airspace. Remembering what the captain had said about a possible welcoming committee, he shuddered at the thought.
Chapter 18
What Would Rick Do?
Gathering her wits together, Sandra looked around the living room, trying to figure out how she would remain safe; how to keep the house secure. The windows were broken, and there were holes in the walls, but the door was jammed closed, so at least the main entrance was sorted. Forget about securing the windows; it was too late anyway, she thought, those bastards firing indiscriminately towards her house had seen to that. When push comes to shove, it was only glass anyway. Windows offered no real protection, except from the cold, but with the curtains closed that problem was minimised. Sandra turned up the heating to full; she still had power, for now at least. The energy bill seemed unlikely to be delivered at any time in the foreseeable future.
She had a gun, a pathetic little snub-nosed revolver with four rounds left, but what else could be used? That thi
ng Rob had told her last time they’d spoken: attack their heads, destroy the brain? Sounded disgusting, but that officer had been shouting the same thing to his men. Before they had all been wiped out. Jesus, she thought, I don’t go to church often enough, but protect me. She shivered.
Looking at the settee in front of her, she saw her erstwhile friend, looking restful, in spite of her wide-open, milky eyes. For a moment, a pang of survivor guilt ran through her. Yes, destroying the brain does work, the evidence of the hole in Ella’s cheek was enough to prove that point. Ella would never again get up and interact at any level.
Of course, she realised, the garage. Plenty of luggage and possessions in there; in fact, they couldn’t fit the car in it because of all the stuff from their last house. She remembered that their ‘stuff’ included two machetes they’d used in the garden, a matching pair in fact, as Rob had described them when he bought them last summer. He’d even carved their initials in each one; sounded cheesy now, but it had been play-romantic at the time. What girl could ever want more from her man, other than a machete? Ironic really, considering it would probably be a girl’s best friend from hereon in; flowers could do nothing any more, other than mark a grave.
The entrance to the garage was inside the house, accessed from the hallway. Ever cautious, Sandra made her way in there; she knew exactly which box the tools were in. They had been packed with the intention of having a garage sale, yet another thing they hadn’t gotten around to since arriving at their new home.
Her way clear of intruders, she quickly found the blades and tested the edges; still sharp. She decided Ella had to go, there was no way Sandra wanted to look at her remains any longer, those eyes gave her the heebie-jeebies. To that end, she gathered up a tarpaulin which had been neatly folded and stored in a corner, and a reel of cord; she would deal with her late friend when she had a moment. Back in the house, locking the garage entrance door, and armed with the two machetes, Sandra screwed up her courage to check on the rest of the property. Downstairs was definitely clear, but the upper level was still hostile territory until checked.
The Common Cold (Book 1): A Zombie Chronicle Page 15
