“Anderson, go ahead.”
“Meet me at the plane. We may have a problem.”
“Acknowledged.”
I looked over where Williams was trying to appear like he wasn’t listening. “Hey, Williams, you up for some mission planning?”
He turned my way and grinned. “Thought you’d never ask, sir. The first thing we’ll need is some maps…”
A few minutes later, I spread a large world map I’d brought along from Bunker One over the hood of one of the Humvees, laying various objects close at hand on the corners to keep it from rolling up. Anderson, Williams, Archer, and I all looked at where I was pointing—Hawaii.
“So here’s my plan,” I said, looking at each of them in turn. “Once we’ve picked up the people at McMurdo, we can get back to Christchurch without a problem, right?”
The pilots glanced at each other, and Archer spoke. “We’re probably fine getting there, sir. It’s at the extreme end of our range, but we should be OK.”
“Good. So, what if we filled up in Christchurch, as much as she’ll hold, and then took off on a course back here to LAX, plotting the most fuel-conservative course we could? Assuming we’d removed all extraneous weight from the plane—and I mean absolutely everything we don’t need—how far would we get?”
“It all depends on how many people, how much they weigh…” Williams held up his hands. “I wouldn’t like to guess, sir. In my opinion, we would not have enough fuel to make that trip.” Archer nodded in agreement.
“OK, so what if we get about here,” I said, pointing to a spot over open ocean due south of Hawaii, “and do a status check? We can see how our fuel looks at that point, then make the turn for Honolulu if we need to, or keep going if you two feel we have enough of a safety net.”
Anderson spoke up. “That’s assuming there’s any fuel at Christchurch, and that it’s usable.”
“We’re all forgetting something with this fuel stuff. All it has to do is run the engines for two trips. It doesn’t matter if it’s lower-grade and will eventually deteriorate the equipment. It just needs to work for a little while, long enough to get us there and back. After that, the plane will likely be rotting on the runway, anyway.”
Both the pilots looked annoyed at that.
“Come on, guys, what did you think was going to happen? We don’t have the infrastructure in place to keep these things in the air, or even maintained, for that matter. You know that as well as I do.” I sighed and tapped the map again. “So? What do you think?”
Anderson shrugged and looked at the pilots. “Sounds fine to me; it’s up to you guys.”
The pilots pulled notebooks out of their pockets and began measuring distances and doing calculations, and as much as I was trying to learn how to fly one of these things, this stuff was way over my head. A mathematician, I’m not.
“I think it’s doable, sir,” Williams said, after a nerve-wracking few minutes for the rest of us. “Depending on the weight of the people we’re picking up, and if we strip out everything that we don’t need… we can look at Honolulu as an option if need be.” He laughed as he shook his head. “I shouldn’t, but I keep forgetting that there’s no such things as ‘flight plans’ or ‘refueling tankers’ any more. Guess Air Force training dies hard, sir.”
“Not a problem, Colonel.”
“One thing, though, sir,” Archer said, glancing around. “It’s going to get damn cold for the folks that are down here in the cargo area, sir. There’s no way to heat this.”
I grinned. “Don’t worry about that, Colonel. If there’s one thing that these people we’re picking up know how to deal with, it’s the cold.”
The sun was beginning to set as the plane finished refueling, and I took a moment to soak up the warmth of its rays. It was going to be damned cold in Antarctica, and this was probably the last time I was going to be warm for quite some time.
“We’re ready to go, boss,” said Reynolds, standing next to the open personnel door in the side of the plane. “Just waiting on you.”
I sighed. “Tom, when we get back, remind me never to go anywhere cold, ever again.”
“Dude, you live in Washington. The average temperature is fifty-one degrees.”
“Shut up, Tom,” I said, climbing into the plane and heading for the forward ladder.
“Righty-o, boss.” I heard him secure the door as he followed me in.
“Hatch secure. Ready for takeoff,” he said.
“I’ll let ‘em know.” I climbed the ladder, moving to the engineer’s station. “Ready for takeoff when you are, Colonel.”
Archer was pilot on the first leg of this trip. “Roger. Let’s hit the list.” He and Williams began going through the pre-flight checklist.
I leaned down to Mahoney. “When we’re airborne, get me a line to Bunker One, will you?”
“Yes, sir, but it’ll have to be soon. That commsat is still out over the Pacific, remember. I can’t promise anything after a couple hundred miles.”
“That’s fine. Just wait until everything is settled and we’re steady on course.”
“Yes, sir.”
I moved back through the passage to the galley, where some angelic soul had already brewed a pot of coffee. I grabbed a cup and filled it, snagging two sugar packets. Somehow, whether through the tight seals of the plane or just sheer dumb fucking luck, there had been a virtual treasure trove of little luxuries onboard.
I guess, when you think about it, worrying about sugar packets is sort of the last thing on the list when the zombies come at you. I suppose they had better things to do, like dying en masse with everyone else. Good for us, though.
It seemed like I’d only just finished my coffee when I felt a hand shaking my shoulder. Apparently, the coffee hadn’t worked, and I’d taken a nap. Mahoney stood over me. “Your call’s ready, sir.”
I swallowed to get the taste of the bitter coffee out of my mouth and grabbed some water from my canteen. “Be right there.”
He went forward, and I rubbed my hands over my face. It’d been a long day, and I was going to need to find a way to get some real sleep. Sometime this century. And hopefully, I wouldn’t be dreaming of walkers the entire time. Today’s massacre wasn’t going to help with that.
“Thanks, Mahoney,” I said as I picked up the headset. “This is Blake. Hello?”
“David?” The voice on the other end of the line sounded like heaven, and I realized then just how much I missed my wife. Why the hell am I here, thousands of miles away from her, when I could be there? What the hell was I thinking? “David?” she asked again, bringing me back to reality.
“Hey, babe, I’m here. We just left LAX and are on our way to Christchurch,” I said, and filled her in on the change of course, and the new plan. “How are you?”
“I miss you. Things are kinda strange here. Everyone’s excited about the new folks, but they’re worried about all of you as well. That and this crap at night…”
“What? What crap?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing. It just started a few days ago. Our alarms are going off at random times, but there doesn’t seem to be anything out there to set them off when we go look. We’re all a bit on edge since it started.”
“I can imagine. What do you think it could be?”
“Not sure. The cameras aren’t getting anything, either, which is really disturbing. It’s just… tiring.” I could hear the strain in her voice, and wanted nothing more in that moment than to be by her side to comfort her. “The most annoying part is that we can’t figure it out. It’s so random. Between this and… and everything else, I haven’t been sleeping well, at all.”
“Maybe Johnny can take a look? Get some of the science guys out there, too. Have ‘em go over every speck…”
I could hear the smile in her voice when she responded. “I would never have thought of that myself, you know.”
I laughed. “I know, I’m sure you and the governor have everything under complete control,” I said. �
�Just wish I could be there to help you.”
“Me, too. Listen, David, there’s something I should tell you—” There was a muffled boom, then a blaring in the background, and I instantly recognized the sound. The base alarm. “Shit, hang on a second, David.”
I pounded the console in frustration, startling Mahoney. “Sorry,” I mumbled, and looked out the cockpit windows at the clouds below us. A minute or so later, Kim came back on the line. I could still hear the alarm going off. “David, it looks like some sort of explosive was set off outside the main entrance. Possibly multiple explosives. They’ve taken out one of the guns. The other one’s firing for the moment, but it looks damaged from in here. I’ve got to go.”
“We’re losing the signal, sir,” Mahoney murmured. “Two minutes, max.”
“Shit, Kim, we’re about out of range here. Are you going to be OK?”
“We’ll be fine, David. Be safe, and come back to me, to us. I love you. We bo—”
The transmission squelched and dissolved to static, and I looked at Mahoney.
“Sorry, sir. Nothing I can do,” he said, taking the headset from me as I removed it.
I turned when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Anderson nodded at me stoically. “You’ve got one tough woman there, son. She’ll be fine.”
I was trying my best not to think of what she was going through, thousands of miles away. “I hope so. I just wish I was there.”
“I know you do. But you’re here, and damn, boy, you look exhausted. Go get some sleep.” I started to protest, but he shook his head and turned me toward the rear of the plane with a bit of a shove. “That’s an order. Get going.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, moving mechanically back toward the spare bunks.
Collapsing into the first bunk I found, I let my head hit the pillow, thinking there was no way I’d get to sleep, not with Bunker One under attack. It occurred to me then that I wouldn’t know how it turned out for at least another few weeks. There was no way to contact them, now.
I thought I’d been through Hell those few days in Fall Creek, though that felt like a lifetime ago now. But at least there, I knew what was happening. Now, I was thousands of miles away from the only person who truly mattered to me in the world, and I had no one to blame it on but myself.
It was quite some time before I eventually fell asleep, and when I did, there were more than a few tears wetting my pillow. Be safe, Kim. I love you.
Chapter Fourteen
Christchurch International Airport
New Zealand
Z-Day + 10 years, 4 months
“That is decidedly odd,” I said as we peered down at the airport from about a thousand feet up.
“You can say that again,” said Anderson.
I began to do just that, and Anderson raised his middle finger at me. Sometimes it doesn’t pay to be a known smart-ass.
“Where are they?” Anderson asked. “There’s not even any bodies.”
Williams cleared his throat. “I think I found those, at least, sir,” he said, pointing out the window to one side of the tarmac. A black pile lay smoking in the sun, ashes blowing off to the side with the wind.
I raised the binocs to get a look. “So… the area is clear of walkers, and there’s a big pile of them burnt and no sign of anyone around. This is what I would call ‘not good,’ Captain.”
Anderson grunted. “I don’t like surprises. Not with walkers, and not with whoever it is down there that’s killed them. Could be militia, could be local armed forces, could be just about any damn thing. And things I don’t know make me nervous.”
“I couldn’t agree more, sir, but I don’t think we have much of a choice at this point,” I said, nodding toward the fuel gauges. We were running on fumes at this point, testing the upper limit of the big plane’s range.
Unfortunately, our landing was going to be a bit more problematic, given the very large plane blocking our way to the fuel. The other C-5 had been a shock to all of us, and though I figured there was one helluva story to go with it, that wasn’t important right now. What was important was the looks I kept getting from the pilots.
A sudden shudder went through the plane, and Anderson, sitting in the command seat, yelled, “That’s the number two engine we just ran out of fuel on! We’ve got about ten more minutes, folks. So we’re going in, like it or lump it. Reynolds, take my boys and get them in the Humvees. I want you rolling as we touch down. Set up a mobile perimeter. I want to know if anything’s coming our way.”
Reynolds didn’t bother with the niceties, just disappeared down the passageway to gather the troops.
Anderson went on, “Gaines, I want you and three best shooters you’ve got strapped in at the doors and the ramp. Cover the Humvees as they’re exiting. You see a walker, you shoot. Otherwise, do not fire unless fired upon. Pass that to Reynolds, while you’re at it. We’re going to get as close to that other C-5 as we can.”
Gaines, too, disappeared without a word, though I heard him and Reynolds both yelling back in the passenger compartment, and the clang of boots on metal ladders was loud even from here.
A moment later, and we were making our final turn for landing, and there was no more time for me to do anything but sit down and strap in. Over the plane’s engine noise, I heard the cough-and-roar of the Humvees starting down below, and the distinctive whine of the rear ramp lowering cutting through the other sounds.
I have to give Williams and Archer credit: they brought the plane down as smooth as any flight I’d ever been on, the big wheels softly kissing the pavement. A moment later, Williams shouted. “Humvees away, sir!”
Then Mahoney shook his head. “We just lost our third engine, sir!”
I could see Williams and Archer struggling at the controls as they brought the plane around, trying to get as close to the other C-5—and the fuel—as possible before our last engine finally ran out of gas.
I’m sure there’s laws about how fast you can taxi a plane. Or, at least, there were. I wondered just how badly we were breaking those laws as the buildings began to flash by.
“Reverse thrust!” shouted Archer, and the pilots threw the throttle levers all the way to the back stops and stood on their brakes. Slowly, far too slowly for my taste, given the huge and rapidly oncoming plane ahead of us, we began to slow down, and finally stopped just as the engine sputtered and died.
Anderson was already halfway down the ladder when he yelled up at us, “Grab your weapons and move, people! I want this plane secure pronto!”
I unlocked my seat belt, snatched my rifle from its resting place on the deck, and followed the pilots to the cargo area. Anderson and I ran for the open cargo ramp at the rear of the plane in staggered motion, covering each other. The pilots with their handguns moved to reinforce Gaines and the other sniper at the side cargo doors. I noticed the two Humvees moving in concert in the background, covering each other as they swept the area.
Reynolds is nothing if not efficient, I thought. We’ll have this place secure in no time. Still, not even having any walkers turn up at the engine noise? Something is seriously wrong here.
After a few minutes, we’d determined there weren’t any walkers in the area, nor any sign of whoever it was that had killed and burned the others. Reynolds pulled up in one of the Humvees at the rear of the plane as one of Anderson’s boys and I were securing the side doors. “No sign of any walkers, sir,” he said. “No sign of anything, in fact.”
Anderson looked around, shaking his head. “Something ain’t right here, but we don’t have time to jaw on it forever. Our priority has to be getting this bird fueled. Reynolds, take your team, Mahoney, and his boys in Rover Two and see about the supply buildings and the fuel. They look pretty beat up, but we need to see where we stand.” He turned to Gaines. “Gunny, take a couple guys and the pilots and secure that other plane.” He spoke to the pilots next. “I want to know where it came from, what its fuel situation is, who was or is on it, how long it’s been there, everything.”
There were nods and acknowledgments all around, and the assigned groups moved off to their duties. Anderson took his radio from his pocket. “Rover One, Anderson.”
“Rover One, go ahead.”
“Set up a patrol, but stay in your vehicle. Take out walkers on sight unless you’re in trouble, then radio in and get your ass back here.”
“Yes, sir. We haven’t seen any yet, but we’ll keep a weather eye. Rover One out.”
Anderson then looked at me. “Well, Blake, it looks like you and me get the fun job.”
I couldn’t think what he meant, but I was sure he’d tell me. “Oh?”
“We’re going to check out the terminal.”
Great.
As it turned out, the terminal was barricaded almost completely, at least on the ground floor. There was no way in that we could find, other than a single door that wasn’t barred from the outside, though it was locked when we tried it, gingerly. We’d made a second trip just in case we’d missed something on the first go-round.
It was spooky-quiet out here.
I looked up at the windows of the second floor, absently scratching my chin as Anderson finished checking the door after our second trip around the small terminal.
“What are you thinking?” he asked me, following my gaze to the uncovered windows.
“I dunno, sir,” I said. “I thought I saw something up there a minute ago, but it was probably just a walker. Those windows are our only way in, but we’d have to break them. The question becomes, is it worth the trouble? Do we really need anything inside, or can we just post a guard here while we’re fueling up and otherwise forget about it?”
“Good point. We’re only going to be here long enough to fuel up, so there’s no real point in getting inside. Let’s—” Our radios blared to life, and I was relieved to see I wasn’t the only one who flinched a bit.
“Anderson, Reynolds.”
“Go ahead.”
“Bad news, sir. Looks like these buildings are pretty much toast. Literally. They’re burned to the ground, and there ain’t much left.”
The Dying of the Light (Book 2): Interval Page 24
