Desolate - The Complete Trilogy

by Robert Brumm

  A couple of hours ago, a large military aircraft appeared out the window and the captain explained over the intercom they were about to be refueled in the air. Julia found nothing too comforting about that procedure. Not only did flying directly behind a giant gas station with wings seem incredibly dangerous, but also what if something went wrong? What happened if they couldn’t get more fuel? She tried not to think about such things and tried to assure herself everybody in the air knew what they were doing.

  It was nine hours into the flight and she was getting restless. She tried to distract herself by turning her attention to her patient but that didn’t help much. Once his stretcher was secured to the floor of the plane, IV set up, and catheter checked, there wasn’t much for her to do. The last few days were a blur of activity, but as soon as that door was sealed she suddenly had what seemed like all the time in the world. It didn’t even occur to her to pick up a magazine.

  Dr. Schmidt and the rest of the team took another flight back to the states, leaving just Julia and the two pilots to take the prisoner back. Major Zellermayer insisted that one of his men accompany her. Julia protested and assured him that if the prisoner was properly restrained he couldn’t do any harm, even if he woke up during the flight. It was a possibility, considering his increased brain-wave activity over the last day or two, but she wasn’t concerned. The truth was, she was so afraid of flying, something she worked very hard to hide from the rest of the world, Zellermayer’s man would be one less person to see her wig out from turbulence, one less thing she had to worry about.

  The flight deck door opened and the copilot appeared. He looked uncomfortable in his HAZMAT suit but gave her a little smile as he sat down in the seat next to her.

  “How’s it going back here?” he asked. “Anything you need? You’re looking at the world’s best paid flight attendant at the moment.”

  Julia chuckled at his lame joke and smiled back. “No, thanks. We’re doing just fine. How much longer is it?”

  “About three hours until we touch down. Any trouble from pretty boy over there?” he asked.

  “Nope, still sleeping like a baby. At least one of us can.”

  The pilot slowly got up with a groan and stretched his back. “Well, if you need anything just give us a holler. You can come right in. The door isn’t locked. They did pat you down for box cutters before you boarded, right?” he deadpanned.

  Julia held up her hands. “I’m clean, I swear.”

  He laughed a little too hard and disappeared back into the cockpit, to her relief.

  Julia got up and checked on the patient again. Pretty boy. He actually was good-looking, although it was hard to tell without seeing a person with their eyes open. Early thirties, sandy brown hair, scruffy beard. A little too skinny, but considering he was at a maximum security prison camp, probably doing hard labor, that was understandable. Being in a coma didn’t help.

  God what was she doing? Fawning over a convicted killer at twenty-five thousand feet while a pandemic was spreading down there on the ground. She was getting loopy. Julia collapsed into her seat, fastened the belt, crossed her arms, and commanded herself to get some rest. If the sky remained smooth for the rest of the flight, she just might doze off and get an hour or two of sleep. Lord knows she’d need it once they got back to Atlanta.

  First Officer Jack Pritchard returned to his seat and settled in. He slipped his headset over his ears and struggled once again to find the best spot to place the mic. The bulky respirator on his mask was in the way and every time he needed to check in on the radio, he literally had to shout.

  “Nothing going on back there,” he said, “but I thought I’d check anyway.” He glanced over at the captain, Bill Rutherford. Bill’s hands rested on his legs and he didn’t move. He was staring at the control panel in front of him.

  “Bill?”

  No answer.

  “Bill, you okay? What’s going on?”

  Bill turned his head toward Jack and stared at him with glazed eyes. His face was covered in perspiration. Under his hood and face mask, a trickle of blood ran from his nose down his chin. “I don’t feel very good,” he muttered.

  Jack stopped himself before cursing and forced a smile instead. “Okay, buddy. Hang on a sec.” He reached for the intercom button to call the doctor but changed his mind. Jack unbuckled his seat belt, removed his headset, and got up.

  “I’ll be right back, Bill,” Jack said in a soothing voice. “Just take it easy and I’ll see if the doctor can check you out. Okay?” Bill ignored him.

  Jack did a quick check of the systems and left the flight deck. He approached the doctor who looked like she’d finally nodded off. He gently shook her shoulder

  Julia opened her eyes and jumped. “What? What’s happening?”

  “Dr. Parker, I think we have a situation on the flight deck.”

  “Is something wrong with the plane?” She glanced around nervously.

  “No, everything is fine. It’s Captain Rutherford. He’s…he’s looking pretty ill. He’s got a bloody nose.”

  “Thank God,” she said on an exhale. “The plane, I’m mean. Sorry, I…” She shook her head as she unfastened her seat belt and rose. “Never mind. Can we bring him back here so I can check him out? You can fly the plane alone, right?”

  Before Jack could answer, the plane pitched violently; they lost balance and tumbled to the floor. Instruments and supplies showered down on them from compartments above. Julia screamed in terror as the aircraft shook violently and continued its decent.

  “Get back to your seat!” Jack shouted to her. “Buckle up and hang on!”

  She wanted to stay on the floor and curl up in a ball. Forcing herself to move and fighting the g-force that wanted to keep her in place, Julia managed to get into her seat. Her hands were shaking so badly she could barely connect the seat belt. It finally clicked into place.

  Julia risked a quick glance out the window. The world outside was at a terrifying angle so she looked back at her patient. He remained unconscious despite the chaos round him. She hated him for it.

  Jack burst into the cockpit. Bill’s hood and face mask were off. Blood was smeared all over his face and hands.

  “What in the hell are you doing, Bill?”

  “We need to land,” Bill stammered. “Christ, I’ve got it. We need to get on the ground or I’m going to die!”

  The plane was losing altitude at a dangerous rate. Jack grabbed Bill by the wrist and tried to get him to pull back on the yoke. Bill pushed him off and the aircraft pitched to the side as he temporarily took his hand off the yoke.

  Jack lunged for his own controls and tried to counteract Bill’s nosedive. They struggled for a moment, cancelling out each other’s efforts; one man desperately trying to land through a fever-induced haze of madness, and the other simply trying to pull back and level out the plane.

  “No!” Bill wailed.

  He let go of the stick and flailed at Jack, just barely missing him due to the distance between the two seats. Jack pulled back hard on the yoke and the aircraft finally broke from the dive. Bill unbuckled his seat belt and lunged at Jack. Now he was the one frantically trying to gain control.

  Again they fought. Bill couldn’t understand why Jack wasn’t helping him. He couldn’t believe this man he considered a friend was trying to stop him from landing. Jack wanted to keep him trapped in this tube to die like an animal. Jack was shouting at him but Bill didn’t hear. He coughed a mist of blood on the back of Jack’s suit. He grabbed Jack by the neck and choked him as Jack tried to fight him off with one hand.

  The aircraft pitched again. Bill lost his balance and fell to the floor. He battled through his dizziness and stood up. He unlatched the fire extinguisher beside the pilot’s seat, raised it above his head, and smashed it on the back of Jack’s skull as hard as he could.

  Jack went limp and fell forward on the yoke, causing the plane to dive again. Bill lost his balance and sailed face first into the control panel. Fresh
blood from a broken tooth mixed with the steady flow from his nose.

  He somehow managed to crawl into his own seat as the ground below got closer through the windscreen. Bill grabbed the yoke with bloody hands, leveled out the aircraft, and pulled back on the throttle. His eyes burned and he was seeing double but he could make out a clearing in the trees below just large enough to land. Trees? Where in the hell did they come from? And where was the damn airport?

  He laughed and turned to Jack to celebrate. Jack was slumped over in his seat, his head covered in blood. What happened to him? Bill couldn’t remember.

  “Hold on, buddy, we’re coming in hard!” Bill shouted.

  He knew if he could land the plane and get out in the fresh air everything would be fine. He would be okay. His friend Jack would be okay too.

  11

  I have a feeling I know what you’re thinking. You’re getting tired of all this doom and gloom and listening to me bitch. You’re probably tempted to make the switch to a light-hearted romance about teenage vampires or something. Please, bear with me. I’ll admit that after spending the night on the tree trunk I was as depressed that morning as I’d ever been in my whole life. I was lonely, tired, starving, thirsty, in pain, and suffering from intense malaise. I’ve never been sure what that means, but it sounds important. Despite all that, I stumbled across a small miracle that morning.

  At this point in my journey, I was on autopilot, simply putting one foot in front of the other. I wasn’t even paying attention to which direction I was headed anymore. Luckily, I didn’t get turned around and end back up at the crash site.

  I must have been half asleep, walking with my eyes closed, when suddenly my right foot found empty space instead of the ground and I was airborne. I rolled down a steep incline and landed in icy cold water.

  Purely by dumb luck I stumbled onto a stream. The current was fairly strong, the water clear and cool, and it instantly energized and refreshed me. I gulped down as much as I my stomach could hold before I crawled to the shore and collapsed in the cool grass.

  I was going to survive. I still needed some real food, but the immediate danger had been lack of water. Now that I had found an unlimited supply, I’d bought some precious time. As an added bonus, I now had a landmark to follow. Everybody knows that water eventually leads to civilization or at least the ocean. It was a hell of a lot better than walking aimlessly through the trees. For the first time in a long time I was starting to feel optimistic again.

  Not wanting to waste a minute of daylight, I forced myself to my feet and started walking downstream. It was liberating to know I could stop any time I wanted to get my fill of fresh water. I knew I was probably swallowing parasites and nasty microbes and I would be paying for it later, but I didn’t care. The boost from the water gave me the strength to go on.

  I climbed up the rim of the little gorge and walked along the edge. The vegetation around the stream was thick and it was slow going. At certain points, I was forced to climb down and walk in the water. That was almost as slow as clawing through the brush as I navigated over slippery rocks. A couple of times I slipped and fell, but I was fortunate enough not to twist an ankle or break a wrist.

  My spirits started to fade along with the daylight. Even though I was certain following the stream was the right idea, the thought of spending another night in the jungle had me feeling down again. I had started keeping an eye out for another suitable tree to sleep on when I came across miracle number two of the day. I walked around a bend in the stream and was greeted by the first manmade object I’d seen since leaving the plane.

  I broke into a jog, scrambled up the edge of the stream, and stepped onto a gravel road. A rickety wooden bridge spanned the water and the road continued on out of sight as it turned off into the woods ahead.

  Standing in the middle of the bridge, I tilted my head back and screamed in victory. I don’t remember if I said yahoo, or hell yeah, or what, but I remember it felt damn good. Let’s face it, following water might lead you to civilization but a road is a sure thing.

  I wasn’t sure which way to go, but according to the sun, the way I was facing was sort of pointing north so I didn’t hesitate and started walking. So far my instincts were turning out to be pretty accurate, so now was no time to start second-guessing myself. I headed down the road dreaming of a burger and a cold Pepsi at a roadside cantina.

  12

  Aircraft Falcon Six Five Eight Alpha

  4,734 feet and falling

  Julia sat forward in her seat, eyes shut. She was holding onto the armrests so hard her forearms were starting to burn yet she couldn’t manage to let go. She kept reciting the first line of the Lord’s Prayer again and again. It escaped her lips in one long and desperate chant.

  Our Father who art in heaven our Father who art in heaven our Father who art in heaven…

  Every time the plane pitched and changed position, she screamed and held on even tighter. Once or twice it seemed to level out from the dive - a second or two of relief - then it would dive again. She could hear shouting from the cockpit above the constantly changing pitch of the engine noise. Buffeting air slammed violently against the fuselage.

  She dared a quick look out the window and saw the ground below, very close below, and she knew they were going down. Oh God they were going to crash. They were over land now instead of water and she couldn’t decide if that was better or worse. The inside of her plastic face mask was fogged from her panting, and she couldn’t breathe. She ripped off the hood and mask and sucked in the fresh air of the cabin.

  Suddenly, it felt as if her seat tried to buck her off like a bull. The seat belt cut painfully into her gut. The entire interior of the plane seemed to rain down on her, and a second later her breath was taken away as the cabin instantly depressurized as the fuselage shattered from the impact.

  The world was still. Julia opened her eyes and thick smoke stung them. She breathed in a lungful of the toxic haze and coughed. She fumbled for the seat belt release and collapsed to the floor. Pain shot through her chest. Looking down, she noticed blood for the first time. Something was sticking out, just below her collar bone. A sharp piece of metal or plastic, she couldn’t tell.

  The rear of the plane was open to the outside world and she crawled toward it, following the smoke as it escaped out the back. She was almost free of the wreckage when she looked back.

  Pretty boy.

  Ignoring the primal urge screaming at her to get away from the crash and run to safety, she went back. Her medical training and ethics overrode her survival instincts for the time being. He was covered in debris but she didn’t see any obvious signs of trauma. He was still unconscious. Lucky bastard. There wasn’t enough time to undo all his restraints; even so, she probably wouldn’t be able to carry him.

  The cabin continued to fill with smoke and Julia knew she had to do something fast. She couldn’t help but think of the all the times she’d seen a movie where the hero ran away from a crashed vehicle seconds before it exploded behind him. She was pretty sure that didn’t happen in real life, but it didn’t change the fact she was expecting to be engulfed in a fiery explosion any second.

  The stretcher was secured to the deck of the plane by a few simple latches and she managed to get them all released. It was designed to rise to waist level and move on wheels, but she kept it flat, knowing the wheels wouldn’t do much good.

  Julia lifted one end of the stretcher, ignored the searing pain in her chest, and pulled. Adrenaline coursing through her veins gave her the strength to pull it through the wreckage and out into the sunlight. She slipped and fell, lifted it up again, and pulled.

  Once outside and free of the cabin, she sucked in the delicious fresh air and tried to catch her breath. They were only a few feet away from the burning jet engine and she knew she needed to pull him farther away.

  Gathering what was left of her energy she lifted the end of the stretcher again and dragged him as far as she could go. Her chest was really scre
aming now. Every muscle in her body seemed to be protesting. She finally dropped the stretcher and fell to the ground.

  The adrenaline was quickly wearing off and Julia was having a hard time breathing. Her breaths grew shallower. She touched her chest and her fingers came away bloody.

  Julia crawled a few feet, trying to escape the pain. She gave up and rolled onto her back. The warm sun felt good on her face. She closed her eyes to rest for a moment. As soon as she got her strength back, she would drag pretty boy into the shade and wait for help. She just needed to rest for a minute.

  13

  As far as roads go, the one I was walking on was barely suitable for horseback riding. I was beginning to worry that it had been abandoned long ago and was leading me nowhere. Despite the overgrown vegetation, deep ruts, and potholes, it did lead somewhere because I came across an old handwritten sign. The road forked off in two directions and the sign pointed to the left. It said B6/Boones Run. I obeyed the sign and turned left.

  The sign made me feel a little better, knowing I was heading toward B6/Boones Run, whatever that was, but it was getting dark and I was exhausted. I decided to keep walking as long as I could. My mouth was dry and I missed my fresh water supply from the stream. I thought of a couple of containers back at the plane I could have used to carry water and cursed myself for being so stupid. In addition to my nagging thirst, the growing pain in my abdomen was starting to concern me. I checked the wound site before it got dark, and as far as I could tell, it looked good. It wasn’t red or oozing pus or anything like that. I chalked it up to overexertion and tried to ignore it. I’m sure under normal circumstances, a doctor would have told me to rest and take it easy so it could heal.

  I almost passed a building in the darkness and only noticed it because I happened to turn my head to the right after slapping an aggressive bug on my shoulder. I quietly walked up the path toward it and stopped for a minute to look for movement in the dark windows. I couldn’t see any lights from inside and didn’t hear anything except the steady hum of the nocturnal insects around me. I stalled for a few minutes because the place was a little creepy. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what was inside.