by M. Van
Drawn to the noise, I walked to the edge of the building and glanced around the corner. A pair of eighteen-wheelers and a pickup flashing orange lights sped across the field and along an airstrip we hadn’t been able to see from inside the Knight.
In the dark, I couldn’t make out the approaching plane’s colors, but the sheer size of it suggested some type of transport carrier. The plane’s wings tilted slightly to level its approach before it touched the ground. Smoke rose up from its massive tires as the pilot hit the brakes. Roaring down the strip, I had to protect my ears as it passed by.
The massive troop carrier—at least, that’s what I thought it to be—screeched to a halt while I noticed another plane’s approach. This one had a high-pitched engine sound and for the longest time remained a mere blip in the darkened sky. As I watched it circle, it occurred to me this was a much smaller plane than the other one. My heart stopped as the growing hope caused friction in my chest.
As the plane descended toward the airstrip, I stepped around the corner and moved closer but kept myself concealed in the shadows of the building. I stopped behind a stack of crates and rose to my tiptoes to get a better view—only to slip and land on the concrete. Hoping no one had seen me land on my butt, I scrambled to my feet just in time to watch a jet-sized plane speed by. With one look at the colors of the smaller plane, I sprinted for the Knight.
I bolted around the corner and couldn’t care less if those soldiers guarding the doors to the restroom had returned and had thought I’d gone insane. Although in the back of my mind, I hoped they wouldn’t shoot me or something.
At the Knight, I threw open the door and found a wide-eyed Ash staring at me. In her hands, she held a gun pointed at the floor. She must have seen me come running like a hunted deer.
“What’s goin’ on?” she asked, her voice close to frantic. I bent over to catch my breath.
“I need the bino—” I started to say in an attempt to ask for the binoculars, but I couldn’t get the damn word past my throat. I gestured with both thumb and index fingers in front of my eyes and then threw a thumb over my shoulder.
“I need to see something,” I added. Ash reached beneath her chair and took out a pair of binoculars. I sighed in relief. She scooted over to the driver seat where I stood at the door, but didn’t release the binoculars.
“I’m coming with you,” she said. I raised my eyebrows and then looked over to the building where I had come from. There was still no sign of the guards, and I didn’t think it would be that big a deal, but I felt unwilling to get her chair out.
“Ash …” I started to say. She shook her head in defiance.
“Just turnaround and scoot down, you amazon,” she said. I always hated that comparison. I could never tell whether she was mocking me. At least she didn’t call me a skinny molink anymore—whatever that meant. Just the same, I bent over and let her climb on my back, the binoculars firm in her hand.
“Let’s go,” she said. I huffed in reply.
I sat Ash down next to the crates I had been standing behind earlier and snatched the binoculars from her hand before she could protest. I scanned the tarmac for a moment, then found what I was looking for, and raised the binoculars.
The small jet plane had taxied to an area separated from the other larger plane. It seemed I had been partly right in assuming the lager plane’s purpose. Uniformed men hustled to release the plane of its cargo and were loading up the trucks I had seen before.
At the jet, men in coveralls approached the plane with airplane steps-on-wheels followed by two men in uniform and a man in plain clothes. Even from this distance, I could make out some of their features, and I recognized one of them—Michael. Parked cars lit up the plane and gave me an excellent view of its hull.
The soldiers were expected, and I wasn’t interested in them at this point. I thought it kind of weird Michael was with them, but what interested me were the familiar colors on the tip of the plane’s tail. A large orange V with underneath in black and bold the letters TEC. I lowered the binoculars at the sight of my family’s company logo and let out a sigh of relief. He had done it—Dad had actually done it. A burden lifted from my shoulders. When I got sick for the third time and the doctors had told me my time was limited, I turned my back on my family. I told myself it wasn’t for selfish reasons, that I did it for them, but in retrospect, it might as well have been for selfish reasons, although it had never deterred my family. They never stopped trying to make me reconsider, and this plane proved that they still hadn’t given up on me.
I let out a long breath while Ash took hold of the binoculars. As she peered out, I watched the men connect the steps to the plane’s door. I figured it had to be one of the planes belonging to our US office. How else would Dad have gotten it here so fast when the Dutch borders seemed to be closed? Maybe he had arranged for us to travel further west to sit out the apocalypse until the borders reopened. They were all guesses, but I wouldn’t mind if any of them were true.
Two of the soldiers went up the steps and stopped to wait for the door to open. When it did open, they sprang to attention and saluted the person standing at the door. Somehow, my brain registered it as strange but didn’t act on it. Maybe Dad had had to cut a deal to carry additional passengers for the plane to be allowed to land. It wasn’t until I heard Ash gasp and looked down at her that I realized something was wrong.
The binoculars had dropped onto her lap. She sat with that thousand-mile stare that I hadn’t seen so dire since the beginning of the outbreak, while her body shook all over. I kneeled down and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“What?” I asked. She started to shake her head and maneuvered backward, dragging her butt over the concrete. Unable to understand, I grabbed the binoculars and stood up to look through them. It didn’t take me long to find what had her so spooked.
Instinctively, I dropped into a crouch, although I knew they wouldn’t be able to see or recognize us at this distance. My body had a similar reaction to the magnified view of the people near the plane as Ash. A shudder ran through me, as if the temperature had dropped below freezing.
It was him. The man who stepped out of the plane was him. The man who had followed us since the beginning of the outbreak, the man who had captured us, had tortured us, just stood there disembarking one of my dad’s planes—Dr. David Warren; but how could this be? Unable to connect the dots, I turned to face Ash. She was still scrambling to get away, and the color of her skin did her name proud. Forcing myself to snap out of it, I scooped her off the floor.
It wasn’t hard to understand her fear. Hell, Dr. David scared the shit out of me too. The man was on some sort of personal quest to perfect his Divus serum. Something that would make inoculated soldiers immune to the effects of the Mortem virus with some added bonus effects like fast healing. I might have understood those intentions if he hadn’t gone on about it as some twenty-first-century Dr. Frankenstein, using any means necessary to reach his goal, including sacrificing the hundreds of cancer patients he had abducted. That and the fact the FBI were investigating him as the possible reason behind the Mortem outbreak.
Inside the Knight, I locked us in and electronically tinted the windows. Some of the color had returned to Ash’s face, but she still looked stricken. She kept staring at me from the corner of the Knight she’d crawled into—her eyes glassy, her lips in a thin line. I couldn’t help feel responsible for handing her that sliver of hope that had now crashed our resolve. I couldn’t hold that stare. My eyes kept darting around the Knight’s interior as if I might find a rabbit hole to crawl in and disappear.
I wasn’t sure what to do. Should we take off with the chance of running into a roadblock or sit here and wait? If for some reason Dr. David was the reason Dad’s plane could land at all, then he would know we’d be in the area. But maybe this was all just some sort of stupid coincidence. Although that tiny pestering voice in the back of my head had already convinced me such coincidences didn’t exist. Uneasiness s
tarted to creep up my limbs. We had to do something. I almost jumped out of my skin at the sound of my phone ringing.
I fumbled for the thing and relaxed a bit when I saw Dad’s number in the display.
“Dad, you’re on speaker,” I said before he could even say hello. I wanted Ash to understand what he had to say.
“We did it, Margje. The plane landed,” Dad said with enthusiasm in abundance. Mom squealed something in the background that I couldn’t understand.
“I know, Dad. I saw it land.” I knew he could hear the disappointment in my voice—I could never hide my emotions from him and stopped trying long ago.
“You saw it? You’re there?” he said in an instance and then hesitated. “What’s wrong?”
“There was this man on the flight—” I started to say, but Dad interjected.
“Yes, Dr. David Warren. I had to pull quite a few strings to get him in on this. It’s not easy getting someone—”
“Dad,” I said interrupting him. I had no idea how to explain to my dad with my mom sitting in the background what had happened to us.
“That man is up to no good,” I said.
“What are you talking about? He’s the head of the FMDT, the Federal Mortem Defense Team. He’s in charge of everything Mortem related, including the US borders.”
I slumped back. A glance at Ash told me she looked as ill as I felt.
“Listen, I’ve talked to him personally, and he promised you safe passage. I’m afraid he won’t allow your friend Ash to leave, but he ensured me she would be taken care of.” I must have lost the ability to speak because I just sat there staring at Ash.
“Did you hear what I said?” I heard through a haze of static in my head before I glanced at the phone. The time for the conversation jumped to three minutes. That was quite a connection we had there. I sat up straighter.
“Dad, listen to me: this Dr. Warren is no good. He’s the one who created this virus and set it loose on the population for Christ sakes. You can’t trust him,” I said emphasizing the last words.
“Margje,” he said in a voice that told me I was exaggerating.
“Dad, I’m sorry,” I interjected. “You don’t understand. You don’t know what he did to us, and there is no chance I’m leaving Ash behind. He … hurt us.” My voice broke at the memory of lying on that table inside the lab. The remembered sound of Dr. David’s chuckles, knowing fully well the pain he would cause made my stomach turn. Knowing he had done the same thing to Ash was too hard to think about. Dad must have sensed my distress because the line stayed silent. After a moment, he cleared his voice.
“Margje,” Dad said in a low voice, “I think I’ve done something stupid.”
“What?” I asked. My voice felt so small as I dreaded my dad’s next words.
“He knows I’m calling you,” Dad said in a weak tone. I swallowed hard and glanced at Ash before I replied.
“What?” was all I could manage.
“Dr. Warren knows I’m on the phone with you now,” he repeated. “He can trace this call.”
Shock ran through me like high voltage. I glanced out the window as if any second an army of Dr. David’s men would come crashing around the corner, which wasn’t that preposterous because we happened to be surrounded by an army. The conversation time indicated four minutes and fifty-two seconds.
“Dad, we have to go. I love you … all of you.” I didn’t wait for him to answer and disconnected the call before I switched the phone off entirely. The phone thumped on the dash as I drew in a breath and glanced at Ash.
“Ash,” I said, but she barley looked up. “Ash, snap out of it. Dammit, we’ve got to go.” She gave me a questioning look when I moved to the back of the Knight to rummage through our stuff.
Mars had stocked the vehicle well before he had given it to us. He hadn’t even bothered to remove the armament. We had four M4 carbine assault rifles, one even had the M203 grenade launcher, a SIG 50, a Remington R12 tactical shotgun, and five SIG-Sauer P228s along with a couple of cases of ammunition. It had taken a while to learn their names and read all the manuals.
“Do you have a plan?” Ash asked tentatively. I yanked an M4 assault rifle from the gun rack and then turned to face her.
“Not exactly.”
| 11
I was about to climb into the front seat when I noticed the proximity alert blinking red on the console. The windows to the Knight were set for tinted so any intruder wouldn’t be able to peek inside the vehicle, but that also meant we wouldn’t be able to see out except for what we saw on the monitors.
Before I slid into my seat, I turned to Ash and placed a finger on my lips. She got the gesture and nodded. She checked the monitors on the dash while I readied the M4. On the screen, we could see two soldiers maneuver around the Knight.
“Now what?” Ash asked in a whisper, which could have been my question. I peered at the screen. The two men looked to be in casual conversation and didn’t seem put off by the massive vehicle. Although I hadn’t seen the men before, it might be they had received the same message from Michael as the two guards in the garden chairs.
Several different scenarios ran through my head—driving off, hiding in the truck in the hope that they would leave, talking to them. In my head they all ended with us being dead or in a research lab. I glanced at the M4. Shooting would draw attention. As quietly as possible, I climbed into the back and reached into a box next to the gun rack. Ash’s eyes widened as she watched me screw a silencer on to the rifle.
“You can’t just shoot them,” she said in a whisper. My gut clenched, and I felt unwilling to face her. Killing two soldiers who might not even be looking for us felt wrong, but what was I supposed to do?
“They already know we’re here,” Ash said in a whispered high-pitched voice. “We have to get out.” Fear accompanied her words, but she was right. If Dr. David had traced the call, he would know where we were, and maybe these two soldiers might not have been made aware of it, but others would follow soon. I glanced at the rifle—we didn’t have time for the diligent approach. I let out a breath and nodded. Then placed the silencer back into the box and climbed into the driver seat—leaving the M4 in the back.
A knock on the window startled me, although I had seen the soldier’s approach on the monitor. His words sounded muffled when he called out to ask whether anyone was inside. I glanced at Ash and saw relief that I wouldn’t do something entirely stupid, although my next action would probably be categorized into the same file.
“You ready?” I said and reached for the ignition key.
“No,” Ash said, “but do it anyway.” For some reason, my lips quirked into a faint smile, and I glanced at her. The relief had vanished from her face and worry had replaced it. I nodded and flipped the key.
The engine sprang to life, and on the monitor, I could see the two soldiers jump in surprise. They raised their weapons but didn’t fire. I guessed they knew this type of vehicle and figured their rifles would not be a match for the Knight’s armor. I hit the button so the windows would return to normal and we could see through them again. One of them shouted something and waved a hand along his throat as a sign for me to cut the engine, but as I pressed the accelerator and the Knight set in motion, they merely stepped aside. The other soldier lifted a device to his mouth, and I guessed he’d be calling us in. It didn’t matter if Dr. David had figured out where we were.
Leaving the lights off, I eased the Knight forward. As we turned around the corner, the plane came into view. Dr. David and Michael hadn’t left the plane’s side and seemed to be in deep conversation. One of the soldiers held what looked like a phone to his ear and gestured something at Dr. David. Even from this distance, it wasn’t hard to tell something had ticked him off. Dr. David waved his arms in a questioning manner before he tapped a finger to his head. Michael merely shrugged and then pointed in our direction. He froze in place when he noticed the Knight.
Dr. David poked the soldier holding the phone in the
shoulder and started pointing animatedly in our direction. I took this as our cue to leave and stepped on the gas, pointing the Knight in the direction of the fence.
Vehicles sped across the runway to intercept us. Three jeeps headed our way, and there wasn’t any doubt in my head what their intentions were. As I scanned the fence, I couldn’t immediately see an opening or gate. I turned left, pressed my foot down on the pedal, and the Knight picked up speed. “Put your seat belt on,” I said.
“Way ahead of you,” Ash said with a nervous smirk on her face.
Before any of the jeeps managed to reach us, we came up on the fence. I knew the fence would be no match for the Knight—we had done this before—and I didn’t even flinch as we cut through the metal mash like a knife through butter.
The engine roared as we hit the road surrounding the airport and, within seconds, became engulfed by darkness. Either there weren’t any lights, or they didn’t work, but the road became too dark to see. At this speed, I had no choice but to turn on the headlights. In the rearview mirror, I couldn’t see the jeeps in our pursuit. I knew turning on the lights would lead them straight to us, but I guessed crashing wouldn’t be a good option either.
Ash remained silent at my side as we tore across the asphalt. At this point, north seemed as good a direction as any. Zombies were coming in from the east, and west was where we needed to go, but that was also where soldiers would be. The new border made up by the Mississippi would be west, and I didn’t think the military would leave it unguarded. We couldn’t use the phone, although I had no idea if turning it off would be enough. I should probably throw it out the window, but I just couldn’t do it. There were too many memories on there—photos of my family, my friend Emily, Ash, and all those voicemail messages my mom had left me. Besides, I couldn’t remember where I had left the thing and stopping wasn’t an option. Speeding down the road, I vowed to myself I would listen to all of mom’s messages if we got out of this.
