“We need some transport. The car parks are probably the best bet for that. Which side of the airport are we on, Captain?” Rob asked, unable to fix their position.
“We’re at the end of runway 34Right. If we headed in that direction,” he said, pointing, “we would get to the third terminal and the tower.”
“So, considering there are those zombie creatures all around us, I think it’s safe to say it isn’t a good idea to try for a terminal. Especially as there appear to be no lights visible over there. Agreed?”
“Sounds like good logic,” Morgan responded. “If it wasn’t for the fire, we could head down the runway, then across towards the main terminal; that would take us close to the parking lots. But I don’t want to be silhouetted against the fires, we’d be sitting ducks. We don’t know what’s out there.”
“So what do you suggest?” Daniel asked, anxious to get out of the open, to somewhere they could protect themselves. If they remained here much longer, then by morning, a mere few hours away, they would be exposed. With the vast expanse of airport they had to cross, there would be nothing to offer them protection or cover; even from the few times Daniel had been to Denver, he knew that much about the lay of the land.
The captain thought for a moment. “Head towards the terminals, we’ll find a taxiway that goes southwards. That will take us close to the parking lots.”
“It’s a risk going close to the terminals, don’t you think?” Daniel challenged, afraid of jumping from the frying pan just yet.
“It’s a risk wherever we go; it’s pitch black in all directions, so I think it’s a bit of a crap shoot, whatever we choose.” The captain had always been frank in his assessments, believing the truth was better than soft-soaping the survivors.
“Okay, I’m sold. Let’s do it. You okay with that, Janet, Rob, BB?” This had to be a joint decision, everyone’s life was at stake.
Agreeing, they began the long walk towards the terminals. As they moved away from the crackle of the fires, they became aware of the sounds of their own footsteps which were beginning to sound overly loud. Taking their time, they worked at being as quiet as possible; they could still hear a lot of movement all around them. Oskar’s ears were flat back on his head, his fear evident. Without bidding, the dog stayed glued to Daniel’s side. The children walked with Janet, holding her hands as they moved into the darkness. Daniel was determined they would stay in front of him, where he could see and protect them; his position as tail end Charlie would ensure that. He was banking on the supposition that the dog would alert him of any approach from behind; that was the theory, at least. His rifle at the ready now, he wouldn’t go down easily, whatever happened.
Rob, the captain, and BB walked ahead, navigating the semi-darkness. The night wasn’t as pitch black as they had originally thought; soon they could see the ground ahead of them, as their eyes adjusted to the new environment. The sky was clear, there was no moon, but the abundance of stars above gave them a lot more light than Daniel had ever thought possible; he was a city boy after all. As his vision improved, he began to see dark shapes, people blundering around as if blind. Unwittingly, they had passed by several, some mere feet away, so closely that they surely must have detected the group’s presence. Maybe night time was a bad time for the Infected, they certainly appeared to be docile enough; of course, he wasn’t about to put it to the test.
The children had noticed the mass of stars above; being city dwellers, they, too, were fascinated by the sheer numbers visible on this cold, dark night. Thank God they had a distraction from their current misery, Daniel thought.
He peered ahead, trying to see the terminal buildings. In this light, by now they should at least have been able to see the white, tent-like, billowing roof-tops of the Jeppesen Building. Concerned that he couldn’t see any structure at all, the thought was popping into his head that they were going in the wrong direction. He blinked, trying to make out something recognisable. The way the men up front were peering forwards, it was clear they were having the same problem. All they could see was irregular shapes of something dark, with the odd protrusion of a tall pole or column, all that was visible. They arrived at the taxiway Morgan had told them about. They couldn’t have been more than two hundred yards from the terminal building, but still there was nothing.
The captain stopped and the group bunched up, unsure which way they should turn without his guidance. He looked bemused, almost frightened by the unknown. For Daniel, this was a first, seeing the captain actually unsure of himself. That thought alone worried Daniel more than the dead walking around the field.
“It’s not here,” he murmured.
“That can’t be right,” BB agreed, “we’ve walked in the right direction, there’s the North Star,” he said pointing upwards and to their right.
“Where?” Penny asked, unable to understand how he could see it among all those other stars. BB bent down, and with his shoulder next to her face, pointed upwards. She smiled as she saw it, and coyly thanked him.
“Well, if we’re in the right place, we need to go along this taxiway for about half a mile.”
They moved off along the concrete road, a yellow painted line showing them the way. As they walked, they noticed large dark blocks littering their way ahead, one even obstructing their intended route. Getting closer, BB let out a cry of dismay.
“It’s a goddam military troop carrier!” His time in the service enabled him to recognise the mangled metal lumps for what they were. “Look at them all, there’s loads of them.” He ran to each one nearby, but there was no denying what he was seeing. Looking back at the group, they could see his face, which was even more pale in the starlight. A streak of a tear could be seen as it ran down his cheek. He wiped it away angrily.
Captain Morgan went to him and put a hand on his shoulder. He, too, had joined the dots to the puzzle, and the look on his face was like a thunder cloud. They didn’t need words to share what they were thinking, as they suddenly understood what they were seeing in the weak light.
“We have to leave this place, and quickly. Come on,” he beckoned to the group. Moving around the destroyed trucks, Daniel caught up with him.
“They’ve nuked the place, haven’t they? Normal bombs couldn’t have done that to all these trucks. And there are no craters. That, and the fact we can’t see the bloody terminals. I’m right, aren’t I?” The England they had left behind was looking more appealing right now. The captain just nodded.
Daniel hung back, waiting for Janet and the kids, once more taking up his position at the rear. In silence they covered the distance to the parking area.
“There’s no point trying any of the cars, their electronics will have been fried by those fuckers,” BB announced, his anger still burning brightly. The parking lot looked like the hand of God had swept the cars to one side, piling them up in a heap in the corner. “We need to keep on moving, away from here. Perhaps we’ll pick one up on the road, further away.”
With no arguments from anyone, they continued their walk southwards. They soon left the metalled taxiway strips behind, crossing sandy, rock strewn, but ploughed fields instead. At least they saw no more Infected to contend with; most appeared to be happy to remain within the airport bounds. On their way across the fields, they encountered a shuttle parking zone. They found many cars with keys in the ignition, doors open, as if the occupants had just gotten up and walked away; which they probably had. Unfortunately, they were still too near the epicentre of the nuclear detonation; they may have had the keys, but all the electrics were fried. Every car they found with a key paid no attention to gentle coaxing or abuse. They would have to keep on walking.
Out to the east, the sky was beginning to brighten. They could hear the sound of coyotes fighting over their prey, they were clearly not far away; it sounded like there had to be at least twenty of them in the pack, attracted by the offering of easy meat. Daniel held his rifle more tightly, these animals were perfectly capable of attacking people; he
just hoped they had enough alternatives out there to leave this group alone. In less than an hour it would be dawn, by which time they anticipated finding a suitable vehicle, for their safety, and to make better progress.
Penny was flagging by now, her pale little face showing the pain she felt in her tummy. She had retched twice so far, all prayed it had nothing to do with their proximity to the blast zone, preferring to think it was stress and fear causing her stomach to misbehave. Although she wouldn’t eat any of the sandwiches Becky had thoughtfully packed into the rucksacks, she did sip the water, much to Janet’s relief. Sam was stoically keeping an eye on his sister; he must have been exhausted, too, but refused to show it. The little guy was a survivor, and he would die rather than lose his sibling. Rob and Daniel took it in turns carrying her, allowing her to rest, and hopefully recover.
Forty five minutes later they climbed over the fencing alongside the main airport access road. Exhausted from walking across such rough terrain, combined with the constant adrenaline high of their plight, they collapsed at the side of the road. Penny had recovered a little, thanks to the respite; her colour had returned, and she was becoming more her old self. She was patting Oskar, and even smiled a little. Oskar didn’t complain at the attention either.
The sun was definitely on its way up now; its glow, even though still below the horizon, had replaced the starlight, and was improving everyone’s spirits.
“Right, can everyone make sure they’ve had some water, please.” The captain had looked through their supplies, and seen that there was plenty of water to go around. There was enough to last for a few hours yet. His survival training, something all long haul pilots underwent, dictated that it was better to use water properly while you had it, rather than to eke it out over a longer period.
Refreshed from the rest, and eating sandwiches while they walked, they set off down the main access road. Much to their relief, they appeared to have left the dead, including the walking ones, behind at the airport. It did seem to be a recognisable trait that the zombie would, if left undisturbed, try and continue the purpose or activity foremost in its mind before it turned.
They all hoped to obtain a car, and soon; none had felt so mind-numbingly tired ever before, but all were too nervous and strung out to sleep, fearing what might happen while so vulnerable. It didn’t help that they were a mile high in this area; the air was thinner, and less oxygen available to their lungs than the sea level air they had been used to in London. Sharing mobile phones, Morgan, BB, and Rob began trying to get in touch with their loved ones. Sandra was hugely relieved they had landed in one piece, and was looking forward to their arrival. Hers had been a peaceful night, the odd moan and scream notwithstanding; her sleep had been fitful and unsatisfying, as she suffered much the same deprivation and fears as the rest of them. The captain’s wife had not answered the phone, which, of course, set him to worrying about her and the kids.
BB’s wife answered after the first ring. It was still night time for her, a couple of hours before dawn. She’d watched the news earlier in the evening, and had stayed up all night, waiting to hear from him. Disheartened that he was in Denver, she was pleased they hadn’t gone to Washington, DC, because it was probable that none would have survived what was going on in the capital. Apparently, the city was out of control, or lost to something that was steadily marching across America. There had been three nuclear explosions she had been informed of, one being Denver, the other two out east. The only TV channels she could get now were Californian ones, and everyone seemed to be in a blind panic. Giving her advice to stay indoors as much as possible, stocking up with food and water, and getting her to load the gun, there was little else he could offer her at this time. His position was almost as bad as the captain’s. The frustration in him was building.
Two more miles down the road, they came to a permanent security installation. It had been populated by soldiers, several of whom remained, dead, along with their weapons and a few military vehicles. The soldiers had died horribly, as if they had been routed by some vengeful force that had deconstructed most of the bodies into their constituent parts. Blood was everywhere, starkly contrasted on the brighter concrete road surface. A few zombies were walking around still. After relaxing in the early morning sun, it was difficult to come back to full alert once more, but the sight of two Infected wandering around clutching human body parts changed all that. Drawing their pistols, Rob and Daniel handed them to Morgan and BB. Janet hung back with the children, keeping them out of harm’s way, hiding behind some scrub growing at the roadside.
At about fifty feet distance, they crouched down, watching the security point, looking for activity, official or otherwise. This was their first real test since leaving the plane on the runway; Daniel suspected they were in for a lot of this in their near future, and he sure as hell didn’t need to be clairvoyant to be right about that.
The army had definitely departed, scarpered seemed to be the correct term, leaving a lot of their equipment and dead behind. From where they were, they counted four Infected; all appeared to be the slow ones. These four had spent a fruitful night devouring several soldiers, whose remains lay scattered on the ground. Slowly, the men edged closer to the check point, keeping an eye out for more of them. There were two more in a lorry cab, not doing anything in particular; one had its hands on the steering wheel. They both wore uniforms, recognisable in green, in spite of the ghastly mess on their necks and faces.
As they got closer, the vista opened up onto the field behind the check point. It was full of corpses, a mixture of military and civilian. Apart from scraps of clothing, it was hard to determine which was which, the damage done to them made their recognition even as being human more of an assumption than a certainty. The stench from the catastrophe reached them on a wisp of a breeze, and all either gagged or clutched at their noses and mouths. There had been a pitched battle fought here, the military clearly losing the struggle. Maybe that was why it was deemed necessary to use a nuclear weapon at the airport. Crows and other carrion birds were circling in huge black swirls, those on the ground bickering over the scraps. A rout of coyotes could be seen at the far side of the field, tearing at the remains of a man who had been able to get clear of the mass of bodies, before succumbing to his injuries. Instinctively covering his mouth, and resisting the urge to retch, Daniel scolded himself for his earlier uncharitable thought of the army scarpering; clearly they hadn’t. They appeared to have died, right down to the last man.
Note to self, Daniel thought, don’t take on large numbers of the undead. If the army can’t handle them, I sure as hell can’t. He brought his focus back to the zombies nearby. All told, they only counted four walking, and two in one of the trucks. He wished his gun had a silencer; when they began killing them, any still in the vicinity would be drawn to the sound.
“We have to check out what’s inside the back of the trucks,” Daniel whispered to the others. “We don’t want a surprise.”
“Guys,” Rob turned to the captain and BB, “don’t shoot if you don’t have to. The slow ones really can’t catch us. They certainly aren’t dangerous until they do. It’s the fast ones you have to look out for.” He strained to make out more detail of those in the cab, but couldn’t see enough from where they were. “I can’t tell what the ones in the truck are, they’re just sitting still, so try and stay out of their detection range. And as for how they do that, we don’t know if they just smell us, hear us, or can see something through those white eyes.”
“Jeez, looks like we’re going to have some fun,” BB replied.
“Stay in pairs as well,” Daniel said as they moved forward.
There were four abandoned trucks, three of which had empty cabs. Covering each other, they moved forward, leapfrogging positions to cover their advance, just like they’d seen done on the telly. It appeared to be reasonable practice.
Daniel and Rob checked their two lorries. There was no-one on board in the rear, although in one there was a la
rge stash of rifles and ammo boxes. A really good find. A single shot rang out, and Daniel and Rob leapt out of their lorry to cover the area in case it alerted a fast one, or two.
“What happened?” Rob called quietly.
“One tried to grab me,” Morgan replied.
“Watch out, there’s three coming in from the field of bodies. Shit, they’re fast!” BB alerted them to the new threat.
Daniel and Rob turned and saw them. By God, but they were fast. They made Usain Bolt look like a couch potato. And they appeared to do it with such ease, almost no noise; they didn’t even appear to breathe. The boys lined them up in their rifle sights, and felled the first two immediately, leaving pink spray where the heads had been. The bodies flopped to the ground. The third kept up its pace, and was within only twenty feet when a pistol shot cracked and he, too, fell lifeless to the ground, dust rising around him.
“Nice shootin’ Tex,” Morgan said to BB, a hint of pride in his voice. BB smiled and was about to regale them with an explanation of his skill, when from behind him, came the sound of a door slamming and feet running.
Next moment BB was on the ground, face down, flailing desperately, trying to remove the manic threat from his back. On his face was a look of real fear. The creature pounded on his back with its fists, teeth bared in a wild ecstasy of violence, as it prepared to go in for the kill. Morgan reacted quickly, placing the muzzle of his pistol against its head, and pulled the trigger. Click. He pulled the trigger several times more in quick succession, but it had jammed. The zombie lashed out at him, momentarily distracted from sinking its teeth into BB’s neck. Resorting to sheer brute force, the captain slammed the butt of the gun down hard, time after time, on the crown of the beast’s head, until the hard, cracking sound of pummelled bone became the soggy splashing of bloody remains from the now gaping hole in its skull. It collapsed sideways as BB pushed it away from him, bloody grey matter oozing from the new hole. The co-pilot jumped to his feet, and shivered with revulsion.
The Common Cold (Book 1): A Zombie Chronicle Page 21
