“Roger that. Co-pilot left the cockpit, the situation evolved very rapidly, and I had to protect myself from the possible contamination to prevent loss of aircraft control.”
Mike’s mouth went dry as he tried to formulate a reply. “Roger, you locked the co-pilot out of the cockpit? What the hell is going on up there?”
“Mike, if you could see what I can on the cabin’s video feed, you’d have done the same. Right after I got off the line with you, the co-pilot went back to check on the flight attendants and our sick passenger. When he didn’t come back, I flipped on the cabin monitor and there must have been a dozen or more people trying to hold down the one sick passenger. He went feral. Started biting and clawing the attendants and some of the passengers. They got him tied down eventually, but he’d managed to bite at least half a dozen people, including the co-pilot. Within minutes, the people who were bitten were already visibly ill. They were sweating profusely, and some seemed to be hallucinating, not even knowing where they were anymore. Two of the attendants that weren’t injured filled me in on the rest over the intercom. We’ve got something bad on here, Mike. Something real bad. We’re pretty sure it’s airborne. A number of other passengers are showing the same symptoms now, and they weren’t even NEAR the sick passenger. We’re still 40 minutes out from LAX. Advise course of action. Over.”
“Roger, I need you to keep it nice and cool. You’re gonna land that plane, we’re gonna get those people help, and we’re gonna get that drink. And after a night like tonight, the drinks are on me. I got a pricey little bottle of Scotch I’ve been saving for a special occasion. You pull this off, and I’ll pour you a glass all the way to the brim. You’re one of the best pilots I’ve ever known, Roger. You’re gonna get those people through this. You’re gonna get YOU through this. Keep me informed as the situation evolves. Over and out.”
Mike ran his fingers through his hair and let out a deep and shuddering breath. Someone is infected, goes feral, infects others including attendants and co-pilot, and even more passengers are infected that didn’t even have contact with the first infected passenger. Mike tried to get all the pieces put together in some coherent form as he contacted the emergency response teams, the local police, and the CDC.
Once all necessary contacts were made, he radioed Flight 124 again. “Roger, what’s your current status?”
“Mike,” Roger said with a strained and fearful tone, “we’ve got more problems. Jesus. I…”
Mike sat at his console, hands gripping the desk tightly as his friend was cut off by the sounds of loud banging and screaming.
“Roger,” Mike shouted into the headset. “What’s going on up there? Are they trying to rush the cockpit?”
“The attendants,” Roger said in a quiet voice. “They demanded I let them in before they got sick. Said I was killing them if I didn’t let them in. I told ‘em if I did, I could get sick and end up bringing the whole plane down. They just kept begging me to let them in, and I wouldn’t. And the passengers are all getting sick now. They’re all… Jesus Christ, Mike. Their eyes. They’re all bleeding from their God damned eyes. The passengers are going crazy. A few of them started fighting one another. The attendants started ramming the drink cart against the door, trying to get in, but it ain’t gonna work. They reinforced the hell outta these sons of bitches. But still… I don’t want to leave ‘em out there, Mike. They don’t look sick yet like the rest of ‘em do. Christ. I don’t want kill anybody.”
“Roger,” Mike said very calmly, and with as much control as he could muster, “you’re not killing ANYBODY. If these folks are sick, it’s up to you to get them safe to the ground so we can get them the help that they need. You’re gonna save these folks, Roger. You’re gonna save them all. You just gotta keep calm, and get that plane safely on the tarmac. Can you do that?”
“Yeah. 20 minutes out. I’m gonna get this plane landed. Gonna get that drink with you. Gonna finally take you out to our new place in Seoul. She’s the best damn cook I’ve ever known. She’s gonna make you some spicy pho’ that’ll knock the wind outta ya. I can’t stop eatin’ the stuff. You’re hardly gonna recognize me, man. I’ve put on a bit of the old marriage gut since the wedding.”
Good, Mike thought. Keeping him calm. Getting his mind off the bad stuff. Focusing him on the landing. He was going to get him down yet.
“Mike, did I tell you? Mi-Yung’s pregnant. Just found out last week. We were going to keep it a secret until we hit the 1st trimester, but hey, you’re not going to tell anyone, right?” Roger began laughing but was cut off by the sounds of more screaming and an even more determined smashing of the cockpit door.
“Roger?”
“Oh God,” Roger’s voice whispered over the headset. “No. No, no, no, no, no.”
“Roger, what’s happening buddy?”
“Aw, fuck me,” Roger said gasping and sobbing. “They’re killing each other. They just tearing each other apart, Mike.”
“Roger,” Mike shouted into the headset, “I need full details of what’s going on up there.”
“The little ones. There’s all kinds of little ones. Babies. Mike. They’re tearing the babies apart. Why would they do that?”
Mike just sat at his control panel in stunned silence as he heard his fearless friend openly weeping through the intercom as screams grew louder and the frenzy of crashes grew louder and came faster and faster.
“I’M SORRY,” Roger screamed. “I want to let you in. I do. But you’re both sick. I can see it in your eyes. You’re sick! STOP IT! STOP IT, GODDAMN IT!!!”
“Roger,” Mike said clearly and with full authority, “I need you COOL up there! Close it all out of your head. You’re only 10 minutes out, buddy. If you can keep your head, we’re going to save as many of those people as we can.”
“Mike,” Roger’s voice crackled faintly through the headset. “I don’t think we can be saved. They’re killing the attendants. They’re eating ‘em, Mike. Just ripping the flesh from their bones.”
Mike felt his stomach twisting in knots as he listened to the pilot breaking down over the radio.
“I don’t think we were meant to land. Still got some beautiful blue water out here for a couple more miles. Thinking about taking her down. What do you think, Mike?”
“NO! Roger, you listen to me, and you listen good. You may still have survivors on that plane, and I’ll be damned if I’m going let you scuttle that airliner. Now you answer me, Roger. Are there any passengers or crew still alive?”
“Yeah,” Roger spoke in a frightened whisper. “I can’t see ‘em anymore, but they’re out there still. Earlier though, I saw a woman and her two daughters lock themselves inside one of bathroom stalls.”
“Roger, what do you mean you can’t see them?”
“Blood all over the camera lens. Just red. Can see moving shapes, but that’s about it. Don’t make any sense. Got blood in my eyes too. Not sure how it got there.”
Mike then muted his headset, picked up the red phone, and spoke slowly and mechanically, “Pilot has become infected. Prepare landing site for emergency crash landing.”
“Mike?”
Mike clicked his headset microphone back on. “Yeah buddy?”
“Mike, is Mi-Yung there with you? Can you tell her something for me? Tell her I love her. Tell her I love her so damn much. And my new baby. Oh, Jesus. Tell her…”
“Tell her yourself, Roger. You’re only a few minutes out. I know you’re not feeling all there right now, but if you can get this plane down, we can get you help!”
“I can do it. I can land this. Just need to concentrate. See you on the ground, Mike.”
And with that, the line went dead.
“Roger,” Mike shouted into the headset. “Roger, do you read me? Roger?!?”
“Sir,” one of the other air traffic controllers said nervously. “It’s General Eraster from the Air Force. They’re asking for verification of the pilot’s death. They want to shoot the plane down before it crash
es in a populated area.”
“No,” Mike said curtly. “He’s got this. He’s landing the plane. Tell them the pilot’s fine. Tell them to stand down.”
Mike stood at the window of the control tower, and watched in total silence as a small light appeared off in the distance. He pulled his binoculars, and saw that it was indeed Flight 124. He kept the binoculars trained on the airliner as it came in for a landing. The plane was moving pretty shakily, but Mike could still tell that Roger was at the stick, and even through the illness, giving it everything he had left.
The plane moved quickly downward towards the runway, and as the wings seemed to teeter steeply to the right and left. Mike dug tips of his nails deep into the meat of his palms as the 747 quickly lost altitude. The landing gear came down without issue, but moments after they did, the plane landed hard on the wheels, sending the aircraft rebounding off the runway and back aloft a few dozen feet.
Mike wasn’t a religious man in the least, and yet he suddenly realized that he praying aloud for God to spare his friend for the sake of his wife and unborn child.
The plane began to move back down towards the runway, and this time when the wheels hit, they seemed to stick to the tarmac. The plane then began to slow, but not before losing directional control and spinning to a halt in the grassy field at the end of the runway.
Mike raised his binoculars and could see Roger stumbling around inside the cockpit. He picked up his headset and began shouting, “Roger! Roger, you did it! Roger, do you read me?”
Mike watched as Roger very awkwardly slid his headset on. Roger spoke in a broken and strained voice. “Mike? I can’t see too well. Did we make it? Did I land it? They wanted to know.”
Mike laughed as he spoke, “You did it, buddy. You got it down without a scratch, like always.”
“Good,” Roger said with a massive exhale. “I’m just glad you’re both here.”
“Roger? What do mean both?”
“Mi-Yung is here, and she brought our little baby girl. She’s so beautiful, Mike. I didn’t think I’d get to see her.”
“Roger, we’ve got a team of responders with tranquilizer guns right outside the plane. We’ll knock any of the infected passengers out first, and then we’ll get to you. You’re going to be okay.”
“Sorry Mike. You won’t get to me. Not in time. I’m… not right. I don’t want to hurt anybody, Mike. I don’t want to hurt my baby. You’re going to take care of them now, okay? Don’t say no. Please don’t say no.”
“Roger, we’re going to get you out of there,” Mike shouted into the headset. Mike then watched in horror through the binoculars as Roger pulled a pistol out of a locked box under the control panel, and pressed it to his temple. “Oh God, Roger. Don’t! Please!”
“Tell my baby I landed this plane. Tell her I did everything I could. That I was a good man.”
“ROGER?!? Please Roger! Just wait. We’re almost…”
“I love you Mi-Yung.”
A flash momentarily illuminates the cockpit, and Roger crumples to the floor.
Mike flings his headset against the wall, smashing it apart into several pieces, and stumbles backward tumbling to the floor.
Tears flowed hot and heavy down his face as he tried to stop the image of that flash from replaying again and again in his mind. He clutched at his churning stomach as the gunfire began to erupt outside the tower.
Mike shakily rose to his feet and shuffled to the window. He looked down as the emergency response team fired wave after wave of tranquilizers into the enraged and infected passengers that came streaming from the opened hatch. The infected people didn’t stop. They didn’t even slow down. They simply overwhelmed and toppled the entire line of responders, knocked them to the ground, ripped them out of their protective hazard suits, and began tearing them all apart limb from limb.
Police began firing live rounds, but most of those seemed to have no impact.
The control tower was filled with screams and soon people began to head for the stairs, trying to go ANYWHERE to escape the madness unfolding just below.
Mike didn’t bother. He just stood there at the window, and watched the masses of bloodied and frenzied people as they shredded the flesh of every living person that got in their way. They were like a swarm of fire ants devouring all things in their path, as they rushed towards the terminal.
Mike went to his desk drawer, found the old bottle of Scotch he’d been holding onto for quite some time, and then proceeded to pour it into a couple dusty glass tumblers.
He filled them to the very brim.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
They smell awful, can't talk and possess a single-minded hunger for human flesh. Zombies are the stuff of nightmares. Or if you're like Kirk Anderson, they're the kind of monster you daydream about. Kirk has always been fascinated with science fiction and horror, writing short stories in school and during his free time.
Over time, Kirk’s fascination has grown beyond simple tales of biting and being trapped in a confined space. Kirk's desire to explore all stages of a zombie apocalypse is what drove him to publish RIZEN, a haunting collection of four loosely connected zombie short stories set in reverse chronological order and taking place over the span of 10 years.
Contact Kirk: [email protected]
Galleon Publishing
Atlanta, GA
This book, or any portion thereof, may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher.
This is a work of fiction and all names, places, incidents and character traits are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely and totally coincidental.
Copyright 2012 (All Rights Reserved)
RIZEN: Tales of the Zombie Apocalypse Page 4
