Danger, Bob said to himself, was at every turn in this wretched new world of disorder.
Chapter Twenty-One
Twenty-One
Chuck woke from his nap a few hours later as the Cessna shuddered violently. The plane was on autopilot and everyone had taken the opportunity for some rest.
“What is it Chuck?”
“I don’t—” he stared in shock at the gauges. “Shit! We’re almost out of fuel.”
“You said we had enough to get us back to Sandspit, looks like we’re over Vancouver Island.”
“Yeah, it must be that damn siphon, it’s causing drag. We’ve used more fuel than we should have. Check the maps for a nearby airport—and fast!”
“Right on it.”
“That highway below could be your best bet if theres no airport Chuck.” Tom called from the rear of the pane.
Chuck had seen the road below, it was no four lane highway and it didn’t inspire confidence.
“Maybe Tom, but let’s just see if Elliot can find us a runway first.” Chuck didn’t want to show his reluctance and answered positively.
“Here we go,” Elliot jumped in, “Port Hardy airport, should be just up ahead on our right by the coast. About thirty miles.”
“We might have to glide in to land but we should make it.” Chuck took another look at the gauges and made some quick calculations.
“We trust your judgment, Chuck.” Tristan added. “We know you’ll get us there.”
For someone who hadn’t flown for sometime and was in his own words, “As rusty as an old nail.” Chuck performed exceptionally well throughout. Still, he did appreciate the approval of the others' when he got it.
Chuck made a slight turn to line up with the compass heading that Elliot had figured out—a skill Chuck had shown him—and from there it was only five minutes before they landed—the fuel held out.
“Okay Elliot and Tristan get a hold of some vehicles for gas, and keep your eyes peeled. Tom, come with me, we’ll check on that siphon.” Chuck said the instant he brought the plane to a stop in front of the terminal. There was a half full parking lot was right next door.
“We need to get this thing off the plane,” Chuck said of the very damaged siphon. “Some bigger tools are what we need.”
“Okay but where can we find—”
“Maintenance shed, which should be…” Chuck gazed around the airport. Low cut grass all round, some pine trees beyond the terminal entrance, and an expanse of sea that divided Vancouver Island from mainland Canada where all visible in the dull light.
“There that hangar in our left. My guess is that’s for maintenance. We’ll wait until Elliot and Tristan return, then drive over there.”
“Works for me.”
While Chuck took another look at the damaged hose attached to the plane, Tom kept watch.
“I’ve overheard some talk between you and Elliot as I’ve been dozing. You both seem in a hurry to get back to Sandspit. Are you afraid we’ll miss the submarine?”
Chuck let go of the hose and with his M4 in hand walked up close to Tom. “No, it’s not that, its far too early. Elliot and I have felt pressed to get back to the others'. Knowing they’re alone, you tend to worry about it more.”
“But we’re alone too, more so in fact.” Tom pointed out. “With less weapons and resources. Should anything happen to the plane our chances will be lost forever.”
Chuck hadn’t looked at it that way. The two groups were mirror images of their own desperate situation.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Twenty-Two
With the prospect of more foamers descending on the motel no longer a question but a probability, decisions had to be made by the occupants of room 17.
Make a stand against hundreds, perhaps thousands of the heinous creatures or flee into the night in search of a more secure structure in which to shelter. If such a place could be found. Most houses and buildings were built for warmth and to withstand the weather on the island, not for security. It wasn’t New York or Chicago.
“If we stay,” Chess said, his tone just above a whisper, “then keep one bullet aside.”
It was almost as if he addressed an empty room as no answer was forthcoming from the dark. But somewhere in the room, Chess could hear the breathing of the others'. Long, slow and determined, as they contemplated the consequences of Chess’ recommendation.
“They’ll still tear us apart anyway.” James finally answered from the back end of the room.
“Yes, they will,” Chess replied, “but it’ll be a helluva lot less painful and we won’t return as one of them things.”
“Damn straight!” Cleavon agreed with this assessment.
“And if we go—”
“And if we go,” Riley interrupted James. “We’ll all have a better chance of survival and won’t have to shoot ourselves in the head. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m not that keen on sticking a barrel in my mouth.” Though Riley spoke in a normal voice, his determination was clear.
“And where would we go?” Chess asked. It was a fair question, which no one had any immediate answers to.
“What’s on the other side of the sales yard, a diner?” Riley continued.
“Yeah I think so. A small one, large windows and not easily defended. We need a two story place with just one staircase. Is there anything like that nearby?” Chess asked, even though he knew no such structure existed.
“What about the golf club, it was sold brick and—”
“Too far to travel on foot and in the dark.” Chess cut James off, again.
“There’s the hangars at the airport that’s not far.”
“No windows at all, completely enclosed. We need to see our adversaries if we’re to defend against them.” Riley told Sam.
James and Sam, the two civilians, were full of idea’s but neither looked at it from a defensive position. This was foremost in the minds of Chess, Riley, Cleavon and Morris—it had to be—you didn’t surrender to this enemy and hope they’d honor the Geneva conventions for the ethical treatment of prisoners of war.
“There was a couple of houses, on the other side of the airport parking lot, that were two story. I’ll bet they’d do the job.” Morris remembered.
“That would be our best bet, but…” Chess paused to take a peep through the window, “do you think we can make it in the dark?”
“Won’t be as dark once we’re passed the parking lot and those overhanging tarps—and we’ve done patrols by starlight, so we should be able to.” Riley was excited at the possibility of escape.
“There’s one other matter you need to consider,” the frail voice of Jerry spoke for the first time. “I can’t travel with you.”
Jerry’s announcement was met with silence. In the anxious moments since the foamer attack and the shots fired, everyone in the room braced themselves for the onslaught that was to come and forgot about Jerry. Lying on a bed in the dark, hidden, and not a sound… it was easy to do.
“Damn!”
“I feel the same way, Riley.” Jerry added.
* * *
Elliot and Tristan drove up to the Cessna in a F-250. “This one’s almost full,” Elliot called from the passenger side as they approached.
Chuck waved them to standstill before he and Tom ran around and jumped in the back of the double cab.
“Whats up Chuck, is something wrong?” Elliot asked as Chuck squeezed his long legs in behind the seat.
“No, we just need to check the maintenance shed over there—well, I assume that’s what it is.”
“On my way, sir!” Tristan did his best to sound like a professional chauffeur.
“What are we after?”
“Duct tape and maybe some bigger tools, that’s all.” Tom said as Tristan drove the few hundred yards to the hangar and stopped right next to the side door.
“Keep the engine running, we won’t be long.” Chuck said then turned to Tom. “Come on, let’s hurry.”
The Tall Man and the former White House staffer, disappeared inside the shed only to reappear but a moment later. “No good, it’s a fucking plane hanger. We’ll need to— oh, shit!”
Chucks sudden change in expression, tone and language told the others' danger approached.
“Which way Chuck, where are they?” Elliot jumped from the passenger seat, his Dan Wesson in hand. He naturally expected foamers.
“Across the field past the pine trees, look.” Chuck pointed.
“What?” Elliot strained his good eye in the dim light. “I don’t see—”
“The dirty squall, pushing the trees tops over, see it?”
“Yeah, I do now. What the hell?”
“It’s a wind storm and judging by the reaction of those trees a strong one. There’s probably rain right behind it, we best get inside the terminal and ride this out.”
“Shouldn’t we try to—”
“We haven’t got time Elliot,” Chuck waved a dismissive hand. “It’ll be here in less than five minute, get inside!”
Chuck knew his younger and eager friend wanted to secure the plane, there just wasn’t time.
Tristan spun the tires as he reversed away from the hanger, then sped toward the terminal, then skidded to a sudden halt.
Chuck jumped from the pickup before it had come to a full stop.“Inside, get inside!”
The edges of the storm that blew cold arctic air were now upon them. Temperatures dropped by several degrees in a matter of moments. There was snow behind this strong wind, Chuck was sure of that, but couldn’t worry about it now. Getting inside and out of the elements was the only priority.
“The door’s locked.” Tristan yelled to be heard above the wind.
Elliot pulled out his Dan Wesson out and fired a single shot through the double-pane glass door. The glass shattered into thousands of tiny pebbles and crashed to the ground.
“Not any more,” Elliot said a smug grin on face. With his wool beanie on, the eyepatch and several days of a motley growth on his face, he looked more like a pirate of old than Snake Plissken from the movie.
“Don’t just stand there admiring your work, get inside!” Chuck shouted.
Behind them the first debris of tree branches, leaves, dust and grass tussocks blew across the tarmac as the wind picked up in strength. A shudder of metal could be heard as a sheet of fabricated steel tore loose from a hangar.
“What if we got company inside?” Tom asked as he stepped through the door.
He didn’t need to spell out who he meant.
“With the noise we’ve made, I’d think we would have encountered them by now.” Elliot said.
The interior of the Port Hardy airport was almost totally dark. Chuck had remembered to grab a flashlight from the plane before they went to search what he thought was the maintenance hangar. The beam of light showed an empty terminal.
“I think we might be okay.”
“What makes you say that, Chuck?”
“Smell Tristan. Can you smell anything?”
“Err, no I can’t,”
“Exactly. If there were foamers in here we’d smell them, you can bet on that.”
All four turned around when a sudden crash outside caught their attention.
“Damn, look at that!” Tom pointed to a sheet of fabricated steel as it was blown across the tarmac.
“We better find a place to hunker down before the battery runs out on this flashlight.” Chuck noticed the beam had yellowed.
“Over there,” Elliot pointed to the stairs that led to the administration offices.
“Okay, let me take the lead. You cover our six,” Chuck said to Tristan. “Everyone else in between.”
The wind increased and the sound was amplified inside the empty steel shed—which it now was. The steel sheets of the walls rattled while debris flew across the runway and the open field.
At the top of the stairs, a single door gave access to the administration and security offices of the airport. Office desks with laptop computers were everywhere—none of them, operative—with one office room at the back that looked like a boardroom of sorts. The large circular table in the center of the room and the lack of computers the obvious giveaway.
“In there,” Chuck indicated to the board room. “That gives as a good view of the stairs, there’s no other access point so we’ll be safe.”
They managed to get inside, lay their supplies down and make a small space for themselves before they lost all light. Elliot had a small penlight with him, which they used when they had to—the rest room was a few doors down—but otherwise remained in the dark. The tumultuous sound of the storm outside the only accompaniment.
“I hope our plane will be okay out there,” Elliot said.
“I’m sure it will be.” Chuck’s voice was confident, but as the wind rattled the roof of the building, he began to have doubts.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Twenty-Three
Riley moved on his hands on knees to where he believed Chess to be. It was completely dark inside but the frame of the window was unmistakable.
“Chess? Chess?” He whispered when he got close to the window.
“Yeah right here,” Chess reached out and tapped Riley on the shoulder.
Riley moved as close as he could. “We have to make a decision on Jerry.”
“I know, I know but—”
Before he said anything further Jerry spoke up—and loud! “You don’t have to scurry off into the corner like scared rats and talk about me in whispers. You’re supposed to be tough fuckin’ soldiers of the US Army, stand up and act like it.”
“All right Jerry, all right,” Riley answered. He was firm but not loud. “There are fences to climb over, which you can’t do and we can’t carry you over, so…”
“So, you were discussing what to do with me?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact we were.” Riley was honest—after he’d been caught out.
“We’ve got to get out of here Jerry and fast, the foamers could come from all angles and we’d be boxed in.” Chess added, keeping his eyes on the parking lot.
“And what have you decided?” Jerry asked.
“We didn’t get that far, before you spoke up.”
“I have an idea.” Sam had been listening to the conversation before he added he decided to add his two-bits.
“Love to hear it Sam, but make it quick.” Riley said.
“These foamers seem attracted by smell or scent and more so when there’s a group of us. So, my plan is we leave Jerry with water, food, a rifle and ammunition. When we leave we make enough commotion to get their attention and draw them away from the motel Ann the center of town altogether?”
Silence greeted Sam’s proposal. “Well?” He asked.
“It would, I believe, save Jerry’s bacon but endanger ours.” Riley answered.
“But if we can get to those houses it will be easier to defend from there, right?” Morris said, joining the debate.
“Theoretically, but if those houses are already overrun?”
“Now’s not the time to be practical, Riley, I say we go for it.” Chess showed his eagerness for action.
“You damn well nearly got us all killed before, I’m not sure I—”
“No, he’s right Riley, we owe it to Jerry.” Sam said from the dark.
“Yeah, I agree too.” Morris added.
“What about you, James, we haven’t heard from you on this.” Riley asked.
“He saved my son.” James began. “I’m not thrilled about leaving him here, but if we can draw those creatures away he might have a chance—and as Sam said, we owe him that much.”
“All right let’s do it then.” Now that the decision had been made, Riley went straight ahead with it. He didn’t want to leave Jerry behind, but he was more concerned with saving as many of the others' as possible.
With the aid of a covered flashlight, a rifle and ammunition and supplies were brought to Jerry's side.
“You got th
ree clips there, Jerry ,plus the one attached, a dozen or so bottles of water, jerky and some canned beans—”
“And a can opener!” Sam interrupted Riley and handed over a P-38 survival can opener.
“Yeah, one of them, too. We’ll lock the back door and go out the front here and lock it behind us. We’ll draw them away but you have to remain as quiet as a church mouse, got me?” Riley said in an emotionless manner. He had to be like that but understood the attachment the others had for Jerry.
“Yeah I’m in no hurry to call attention to myself.” Jerry was a brave as he could be.
“Hey Jerry, I’ll leave a flashlight here and I’ll stack the chairs and the couch along the wall so you can pull yourself to the bathroom,” James added, “there’s several rolls of paper in there, so you should be fine.”
“All right, everybody got their shit together?”
“Yes, sir!” everyone answered Riley’s drill sergeant tone in the appropriate manner.
“Got the door Chess?”
“Yup, soon as everyones out I’ll lock it behind us.”
“Okay, go!”
Chess opened the front door and moved to one side, allowing the others' to scoot past. In the dark he felt for the dead-latch of the door, when he found it he held it back with the tip of his combat knife.
Before he pulled the door closed, he wished Jerry good luck. “You hang tight, man. We’ll be back for you as soon as we can, okay?”
“You guys stay safe too.” Jerry replied. There wasn’t much else he could say.
Chess looked to the direction from where the voice came in the dark, took a deep breath then shut the door, he pulled the blade of his knife away at the last moment which locked it.
Jerry was on his own, in the dark, unable to move, with foamers all around.
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