by Tim Moon
“Oliver, M&Ms don’t go in spaghetti,” Charlotte said with a laugh.
“Yes, they do. See,” Oliver held up his pouch of spaghetti. “It’s yummy.”
Ben couldn’t help but smile at the kid.
Chapter Two
“Come on, climb up,” Ty said, holding out his hand to help him up.
Ben hesitated a moment before climbing up into the sand-colored two and a half ton army truck known as a deuce and a half. He had known this moment was coming, but it didn’t make it any easier.
The truck would take Ben and his friends to Kona’s airport, albeit for a far different reason than was normal. Under presidential order, the National Guard, in cooperation with the private sector, was evacuating all survivors in Hawaii to the small island of Molokai, the only uninfected island in the state that had the infrastructure to accommodate large numbers of what the agencies termed “refugees.”
Could American citizens be refugees in their own country? It didn’t make sense to Ben.
He had mixed feelings about their destination. On one hand, he was thrilled to be leaving the horrors they’d endured since their flight from South Korea. On the other hand, going to Molokai took him further away from the mainland and from the hope of reaching his mom.
Ben didn’t have much choice though. If he refused evacuation, he doubted that they would just let him leave the QC, and escape was out of the question. The thought had briefly crossed his mind before he dismissed it as foolish. Not only were armed soldiers stationed the gate and patrolling the tall perimeter fence, which was topped by spiraling razor wire, but the infected were outside the fence. He had nowhere to go and with no other way off the island, he would likely die a horrible death. He resigned himself to going along with the army’s plan and hoping for the best.
“Let’s move a little quicker, folks. We’re moving out,” shouted a tall, thin soldier named Brussels. Specialist Frank Brussels. Junior. At least that’s how he’d introduced himself, like he was James Bond or something.
The day they’d arrived in camp, Brussels overheard that Ben and Ty had flown in from Korea. It sparked his interest since he lived there once upon a time, guarding the border with North Korea. After Brussels introduced himself like James Bond, they all spent an afternoon reminiscing about their experiences in Korea. He seemed like a good guy, but right now he was all business.
“Move your asses,” Brussels shouted again. “We’re on the clock here.”
Ben looked around to see if he’d been singled out, but there were other hesitant civilians holding things up.
Ben’s group was in the second truck in a convoy of four trucks. The convoy had two Humvees as a security escort, one in the front and one in the rear. They would help clear the way on their trip to the airport if they encountered any resistance.
With a scowl on his face and a heavy sigh, Ben reached up for Ty’s hand and climbed up next to him leaning back against the sideboard.
“Don’t look so grim. We’re almost out of here,” Ty said, grinning. Excitement radiated off him like a heater.
Ben gave a little nod.
Nearly thirty people were crammed into the bed of the deuce-and-a-half, so it was standing room only. The humid air made the tight space feel stuffy and everyone became sticky with sweat.
Floodlights facing into the quarantine center, cast sharp shadows across their faces while they chatted nervously above the din of the trucks’ idling engines.
The bright lights were unsettling. Ben tried to warn the soldiers about how the infected were attracted to the lights. Ben and his friends noticed it when they were hiding out in their hotel room. To his surprise, the soldiers simply responded with, “This is a secure location, sir.” And really, who was he to argue? They had the guns. They had the training. Ben was just a teacher. Yet, he felt fairly certain that they weren’t isolated enough to be so careless with the lights.
Once all of the civilians had boarded the trucks, a soldier came by, told them to watch their feet, and slammed each tailgate closed and secured it. Then he yelled at the lead driver to roll out. A few more shouts went back and forth along the convoy. The front gate slid open with a loud rattle of chain link fence and creaky wheels. With a lurch, the truck started forward, jostling its human cargo.
Ben watched through the slits between the sideboards as they passed by a guard tower and through the main gate. Guards holding rifles stood by and watched them pass. They looked bored.
He wondered what the soldiers would do now that the last of the civilians were leaving. The bright lights of the quarantine center receded and the dark night swallowed the convoy before he finished the thought. The convoy rumbled into the night.
Ben could see nothing through the sideboards, now. Behind them was the faint outline of the truck that followed them. The truck drivers had not turned on their headlights. Instead, they had opted for night vision goggles. Ben had seen them adjusting the equipment on their helmets when he was standing in line to board the truck.
A stealthy trip to the airport is smart, he thought. Well, as stealthy as these things can be.
He exhaled a big breath and settled with his back against the sideboards, hoping the ride would be quick.
Ben swayed with the truck as the convoy wound their way down the rough gravel road to the highway. From what he remembered, the gravel road was roughly two or three hundred yards long. It snaked back and forth with large berms between each curve, as if built to hide light from the camp, even though he knew they hadn’t. The camp had been impromptu and hastily thrown up using only green canvas tents and the chain link fence.
When they’d arrived at the Quarantine Center a couple of days before, he remembered seeing the dark, gnarly looking lava rock that had stretched out on all sides of the QC. During the day, it was ridiculously hot and at night, it was slow to cool because the dark stone absorbed so much heat.
Charlotte leaned toward Ben and placed her hand on his arm, cupping his bicep. He felt sticky and wanted to push her hand away, but he loved the way she felt.
“You know, your mom might be safely relaxing in a quarantine center,” she said.
Ben reached up and squeezed her hand. He wasn’t confident that a QC would be her best option, but he appreciated the sentiment. Charlotte might be right, but she was pretty much all he had as far as family went, so he couldn’t take that chance.
Ben remembered the text message his father had sent. “Don’t get bit.” In his mind, Ben sneered at his father. The man took off, moving half-way across the country, barely keeping in touch, and then he sends a cryptic message out of nowhere. As if Ben cared what he had to say, what a douche.
Gunfire erupted from the lead truck followed quickly by bursts from their truck. Ben flinched at the sound. Charlotte’s hand dropped away to cover Oliver’s ears. People gasped in shock. They huddled closer together, filling in space they hadn’t known was available.
Can’t anything go smoothly? Ben thought, grimacing at the noise. He twisted around to look out between gaps in the sideboards. They were nearly to the highway.
Muzzle flashes from the guns revealed brief snapshots of a massive crowd that was bearing down on them. He cursed softly and stared out, absorbing as many details as he could.
Although he wasn’t a religious man, he prayed that the trucks could plow through the bodies without a problem.
Flying to Molokai suddenly seemed like a great idea.
Below his feet, the deuce bucked and bounced as they rolled over and crushed both rock and the infected underneath the truck’s massive tires. Charlotte and Anuhea held Oliver between them as the convoy jerked and swayed down the road. He covered his ears and stared at his feet.
“Oh God, save us,” wailed an old woman.
“We’re trapped; we’re all going to die. Get out of my way,” one man yelled, panicking. He began pushing his way toward the rear gate. People stared, but no one seemed to care what he was about to do. Bodies shifted and pushed as the man
forced his way through.
“Calm down, we’ll be fine,” Ben said, trying to reassure the man. He reached out to stop the guy. A stinging blow, slapped his hand away.
“Where are you going, idiot?” Anuhea shouted at him.
He ignored everyone, fully succumbing to his fear. The man was muttering to himself as he threw one leg up over the tailgate. Suddenly, a hard bump jostled them, throwing him toward the truck’s cab. He lost his balance as he compensated for the movement and landed straddling the tailgate, crushing whatever balls he had with a pig-like squeal. Curling in defense of his vital parts, the man groaned pitifully as he toppled out into the darkness. If the trucks behind them didn’t crush his body, the infected would soon be on him.
People stared out after him, shocked.
“Everyone stays inside,” Ben yelled. “Stay inside!”
He didn’t want anyone else to panic and throw away their life. Escape was close and it came in the form of an airport, not a mad dash into the night like a fool.
“I see lights,” a woman said.
Ben straightened up, peering awkwardly through the sideboards again. There were a few headlights on the highway to the south of them. Some of them were moving slow, but most were stationary. Traffic jam? Abandoned? Ben couldn’t tell. A few pairs of headlights wove wildly back and forth, speeding down the road wherever they could find space. He heard a car horn and faint cries. Several quick gunshots went off, and then the honking stopped.
Shadows moved slowly through the light. Ben realized that it was the infected hunting their trapped and terrified prey. Survivors rushed to the airport, not knowing that they had to be quarantined first.
Ben felt a profound sense of disappointment. Why hadn’t the soldiers set up roadblocks? Were there no signs or messages about the Quarantine Center? He couldn’t be certain. Maybe it just wasn’t possible. They had seen first-hand how quickly things had gone to shit at the triathlon. It felt like more should have been done, but how could they have prepared for something like this? How many people were really prepared to deal with an apocalypse? Much less a zombie apocalypse.
“We’re close to the airport,” Ben said to no one in particular. He hoped the traffic wouldn’t hold up the convoy. If they did, it wouldn’t take long for the soldiers to be overwhelmed, and if that happened, then all the civilians would be sitting ducks.
“How close?” a man asked.
Everyone in the truck seemed to be looking at Ben. Nervous energy crept up into his chest as the dozens of people, squished and crouched together in fear, gazed up at him. He looked down and saw Ty, his eyes were wide and his lip trembled.
Ben cleared his throat, rubbed the back of his neck and said, “Maybe five to ten minutes if we keep moving at this speed.”
He looked up and watched the shadows move along the highway, a sense of dread filling his gut.
If…
Chapter Three
With guns blazing, bumpers plowing and tires crushing, the convoy raced to the airport.
After what felt like hours of driving, they emerged onto the highway, weaved their way through the traffic, and approached a manned checkpoint. All things considered, Kona International Airport looked surprisingly normal.
At the highway intersection, soldiers manned a defensive position made up of sandbags and a makeshift gate guarded by a pair of Humvees with mounted machine guns.
The infected don’t stand a chance against the army, Ben thought with a smile. They’re tough, and battle hardened.
He knew because he recognized at least one of the combat patches, the “electric strawberry” of the 25th Infantry Division based right there in Hawaii. One of his friends from university served with them. Seeing them eased Ben’s mind. If there was a part of the government they could rely on to do a kickass job, it was the military. Ben fought the urge to shout with joy as layers of stress slipped away.
Once they were past the security measures, the airport itself looked much as it had when they’d arrived, if slightly less busy. People lined up and milled about the same way they would any other day, but it was quieter and the mood was somber. The main difference was the sizable military and police presence.
Ben watched as passengers went through airport security. The line moved wicked fast, because now no one had luggage to slow things down. No stupid bottles of water or sun tan lotion to jam up the line, plus there were only a few flights.
Ty slowly regained some of his earlier enthusiasm. Anuhea was quiet and Charlotte busied herself with Oliver.
“Why are there soldiers here?” Oliver asked.
“It’s like the Quarantine Center. They’re here to protect us from the bad people,” Charlotte said.
“I’m glad we’re getting on an airplane,” the boy said.
“Why do you say that?” Ben asked.
“Because, the infected can’t fly.”
Despite the solemn mood that permeated the air, Ben couldn’t help but chuckle. Everyone else was relatively quiet and obedient, moving robotically through the screening process. TSA officers, reinforced by soldiers holding rifles at the ready, watched as the civilians passed by on their way to the gates and airplanes beyond.
Ben went through security with his friends and followed the directions of the airline staff to their designated gate. A flight attendant opened the gate and led them to their airplane once everyone from their convoy passed through security.
Hawaiian Airlines had a plane ready and waiting for them with a portable staircase leading up to the cabin door. Ben led the way up the stairs. Charlotte and Oliver followed closely. The flight attendant, a short thin lady with tan skin and braided black hair, directed them to their seats.
“It’s first come, first served, so pick wherever you’d like to sit,” she said with a smile.
First class was full, so Ben led them to the exit row. He let Oliver and Charlotte sit down first before taking the aisle seat.
“Hopefully, the exit row will be okay with him,” he said, gesturing to Oliver.
“I’m sure they have more important things to worry about,” Charlotte said.
Ben realized Oliver was watching them. “I can hide,” he said as he slid off his seat.
Before they could respond, he somehow wedged himself halfway under the seat in front of him.
Ben laughed, impressed.
“Oh no! Where’d Oliver go?” Charlotte asked, laughing.
“Right here,” he said, climbing back into his seat. “See, I can hide.”
“That’s great, Oliver. If they say anything, you just hide down there,” Ben joked.
He leaned back and tried to get comfortable. Watching the rest of the passengers board the plane, he wondered what would happen once they left Kona.
“How do you think they are going to deal with the infected?” Ben asked.
Charlotte looked quizzical. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, do you think they have an extermination plan? We can’t live on Molokai forever, right? Eventually people need to go home.”
“I haven’t really thought that far ahead. But if they’re clearing all of us out of the area…you know, normal people, then I guess the army will take care of the infected,” she said with a shrug.
He nodded. It made sense. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Armed soldiers roaming the streets of America hunting an enemy, who would have thought we’d see something like that? It’s probably the first time since the Civil War.”
She didn’t look too interested in it, so Ben dropped the conversation.
Dread filled his gut at the idea of hunting the infected. Ben thought about Sergeant Riggs and the other men that had found them at the hotel and Specialist Brussels who would also take part in the cleanup. Now more than any other time in his life, he was so grateful for the bravery of the military and law enforcement personnel that would have to deal with this mess. They couldn’t just run home like he wanted to. They had to stay and fight, and die, to make the country safe again.
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Beside him, Charlotte, the beautiful young woman he barely knew, and Oliver, an adorable Korean-American boy that he’d rescued at the triathlon massacre, seemed completely at ease with the whole situation.
He sighed.
Ty and Anuhea sat across the aisle from them. The plane was configured with two seats on one side and three on the other. It worked out well for their little group.
Ben adjusted himself in his seat. They’d made it through some real shit together. He was glad that he was with good people, people he could rely on to watch his back... Traveling alone would have been a lot scarier. He realized he felt anxious about the flight. The last time Ben and Ty were on an airplane, they’d witnessed a terrible tragedy. It was their first encounter with the infected, before they even knew what the infected were.
Ben tried to push the thoughts aside, but his brain was already on that mental track and refused to be detoured. Two people seemingly rose from the dead to attack other passengers and a US Air Marshal, who had been bitten during his fight with one of the infected. His cheek tingled where the woman’s blood had splattered and he wiped at it reflexively even though that’d been nearly a week ago. Only later, after his father sent a random and somewhat cryptic text message, had he realized that the bites were deadly. It was how the disease transmitted from person to person. This meant that the marshal was dead and possibly stalking the streets of Kona, trying to attack people.
Ben clenched his fist to release some of the tension that was making his hands shake.
“Are you okay?” Charlotte asked him, concern glistening in her beautiful eyes.
“I’m fine,” Ben said, swallowing hard. “How are you?”
She nodded slightly and smiled. “I’ll be happier when we take off, but I’m okay.”
Ben leaned forward and looked over at Oliver. “You doing okay, kiddo?”
Oliver was staring out of the small oval window, watching the ground crew working on the plane, readying it for takeoff. He glanced back at Ben and nodded.
