Scavengers. Part 20

"In here!" David pulled Shaun into the monitor room. David hid behind the door. He squeezed off a shot, aimed more or less down the hall, to make sure no one felt brave enough to come after them.

Another rifle shot ripped through the walls. Chalky white dust fell around them in the bullet's wake. Shaun hunkered under the counter with all the monitors.

"Why isn't the gas working?" Shaun demanded. There was panic in his voice.

David shook his head, frustrated, high on adrenalin. He reminded himself to stay calm, to think. His battle instincts returned to him. He zeroed in on the monitor they'd left intact the one showing the reverend's room. He realized he could see the gunman hunkered beyond the threshold. There was one man and two women in the room: a young woman and Dejah. With the gunfight, the younger woman had gone to Dejah, clinging to her. David planned a trajectory for his own shot using the camera. He had to keep from injuring either of the women.

"Look!" Shaun pointed at the monitor.

David saw it too. He grinned.

The gunman swayed, then collapsed, falling onto his side. The women fell into a drugged embrace. David realized the air conditioning had kicked on, and the gas was being expelled through the vents.

They didn't wait another moment. Dashing from the security room, David and Shaun ran to the end of the hall and pushed open the door, shoving the sleeping guard's limp body to the side. David took in the details of the chamber before going to help Shaun heave Dejah onto his shoulders. Her head lolled. She wore a flowing white gown which dragged against the floor. David unceremoniously ripped away the lower half of the gown's skirt.

They bore her weight between them. As they began their journey through the hall, back to the elevator, David grimaced against the pain from his wound.

In the elevator, they punched the b.u.t.ton to the lower level. David leaned against the wall, panting, resting his side, while Shaun extracted the portable oxygen tank and mask provided by Doc Ward. He strapped the clear plastic mask over Dejah's face.

David activated the walkie-talkie. Kathryn was waiting downstairs, in a remote corner of the entry hall with an M-16, ready to provide cover for their escape. David pressed the communication b.u.t.ton four times, followed by three times, and finally twice. He waited.

The elevator car lurched as they reached the main floor.

Come on, Kathryn.

And then she replied: three clicks.

David nodded toward Shaun. Suspending Dejah between them, they made their way out into the cavernous entry hall. David's heart thundered as he prayed to all the G.o.ds who'd listen that Kathryn would cover them well.

They left the shadowy solitude of the corridor. The front hall opened before them, wide and vast. The area was brighter than before, shedding more light as they made a direct run for the front doors. David saw the guards.

"Stop right there!" a guard yelled. It was Reeves.

"Go, go, go!" David panted. Shaun kept up with him, lugging Dejah's weight between them.

As David looked up, Reeves was shouldering his weapon. He cursed. There was no way Reeves would miss at this range. He'd been a soldier, not just some whack job with a rifle. If he squeezed off a round, one of them was going down.

The front door was ten paces away. He gritted his teeth against the pain and heaved Dejah onto his back, running. Shaun turned, aiming his pistol at Reeves.

A shot rang out. David winced. He didn't feel a bullet hit him. He looked over with dread at Shaun and saw he had neither fired, nor sustained a wound. Across the hall, at the edge of shadow where light through the stained gla.s.s windows painted the marble, Reeves fell dead to the floor.

"Yes," David hissed.

"Yeah! You got that sucker!" Shaun shouted.

Kathryn stirred, hiding in the lower branches of a fifteen-foot indoor tree. She fired another round from her M-16, felling the second guard. Lugging a ma.s.sive pack of equipment, including what looked like one of the grenade launchers strapped to her back, Kathryn scrambled across the final distance of polished marble floor to meet them at the front door. She rattled the chains securing the doors as she worked to open the lock with a key.

"Go!" she yelled as chains clattered to the floor.

David, weighed down with Dejah across his back, ran across the open expanse in front of the church. His knife wound throbbed as though the blade had been reinserted, digging at him with each step. His thigh muscles burned with inner heat at the exertion. He forged ahead.

They veered toward the parking lot where he landed his chopper a lifetime ago.

Over the far horizon, beyond the black silhouette of a tree-lined hilltop, the sun broke in a blaze of auburn light washing over the c.o.c.kpit's front windows. It was the most beautiful d.a.m.n thing he'd ever seen. There was the white Eurocopter EC-145 with IBC4 News emblazoned on the side. It was no Apache, no Huey, but it was salvation ... and they were almost there.

The run to the helicopter took them from the portico of the ma.s.sive front drive of the church. Its center was composed of a pebble-set concrete walk and a fountain in which stood a fifteen-foot white statue of Jesus. He looked upon them with serenity and outstretched arms.

They traversed a gra.s.sy rise between the driveway and the parking lot. Just as they hopped over the curb twenty yards from the copter, the distant crack of gunshots behind them echoed in the morning air. Now that they'd reached the plateau of the lot, they could see across it to the edge of forest. At the far edge of the parking lot was a group of twelve zombies, stirred to movement by the commotion.

David chanced a final glance behind. Several paramilitants emerged from the front doors of the church and joined the firing line. David heard a shot wing through the air very close to them. Other bullets ricocheted off curbs or tore into the asphalt. He suddenly feared the gunshots would damage the copter.

"Get in, get in!" he yelled as they reached the bird. His side screamed with pain. He ripped off the gas mask and threw it inside. Crisp morning air flooded his lungs and cooled his sweat-damp cheeks. Shaun scrambled in and helped pull Dejah from David's back into one of the rear seats, where he plopped down beside her and applied the oxygen at once.

David fired a few shots into the crowd before pulling the pilot's door shut. He quickly worked the fuel cut off and fuel boost, opening the throttle slightly, praying that no one had tampered with the machine while he'd been inside. Then he closed the throttle and depressed the engine starter. He closed his eyes and just for a moment he was back in Iraq, under fire, and needing to keep his head and get them the h.e.l.l out of here alive.

Kathryn laid down a volley of fire with her M-16 before coming around and hopping into the pa.s.senger seat of the copter. She strapped in.

"Please G.o.d," David muttered a prayer. The engine fired up. "Yes!"

"Let's get this thing moving," Kathryn yelled.

David slowly depressed the fuel cut-off and rolled on the throttle to increase RPMs. When the gauge read 1500 he used the clutch switch to engage the rotor blades.

The group of zombies had grown, moving en ma.s.se toward the copter. They were thirty strong now. Beyond the tattered group of infected, more emerged from the woods. Kathryn fired at them but only succeeded in knocking a few back. The group kept coming in an unrelenting wave.

Guns continued to fire toward the helicopter. A volley of bullets peppered the c.o.c.kpit. The gla.s.s cracked and filled with holes. Kathryn and Shaun screamed.

"Get us out of here!" Shaun yelled. In the mirror, David could see him cradling Dejah's unconscious form, the oxygen mask pressed firmly to her face. The young man's eyes shot between the group of gunmen shooting from the church, and the infected coming from the woods.

The rotors reached flight speed just as the shambling zombies reached the makeshift helipad. The blades of the main rotors sliced off the tops of six or seven heads before liftoff, and they cheered at the gory fount of destruction wrought on the group of infected as they lifted off.

Bullets peppered the c.o.c.kpit once more. One zinged by David's head through the window next to him: it was a miracle he wasn't dead. The ground receded rapidly.

The chopper swayed in the air currents, and David felt that familiar thrill of being in the air, of flying in battle, something he hadn't felt in years. The exhilaration came back to him instinctively. He was more reckless than usual with the news chopper, taking them up fast, and taking them away faster.

The EC-145 rose into the morning sky as the sun broke the horizon, glaring through the bullet-damaged front gla.s.s. David grinned through his pain. He motioned for everyone to follow suit and don the flight helmets under the seat so they could communicate. He put on his shades, which were right where he left them seven days ago after the last traffic report he'd likely ever do for the rest of his life, and tried his headset to contact anyone with a radio who might be listening.

They flew northeast, and left the h.e.l.l known as the Church of the Risen King behind.

CHAPTER 31.

"How far's the airport?" Shaun spoke into the microphone connected to the helmet.

"It's about 25 miles or so. We'll be there before you know it," David answered, eyes on the airs.p.a.ce around them. "We're flying blind with no air support up here."

Kathryn chuckled. "I doubt there's much compet.i.tion for air s.p.a.ce."

"Let's hope not. How's Dejah?"

Shaun checked the oxygen mask on Dejah's face. "Looks like she's starting to come-to."

"Good. Maybe there'll be some place she can lay down for a bit at the airport once we get into Rockwall." David peered through the cracked c.o.c.kpit, studying the highway below. Cars packed the lanes. The bridge over Lake Ray Hubbard was jammed with derelict vehicles. A few infected could be seen moving around between the abandoned cars. Boats bobbed free on the waves of the lake, unattended. A handful of sailboats bashed into each other with each crest of the waves. Another sailboat was crashed against a concrete bridge upright, its mast broken, sail torn and rippling in the wind.

"If I had a boat," Shaun said. "I'd pack it full of food and park it right out there." He pointed to a span of open water below. Only a few gray naked treetops protruded from the water. "I bet the Sickies can't swim."

"Might be a good plan until you ran out of food and water," Kathryn said.

"Yeah, that's the hole in all of the wait-it-out plans: running out of food and water. It's like being under siege in a castle. You were good until the food was eaten and the wells got poisoned," Shaun said. "Then you were screwed."

"You know your history," David said, glancing back.

"Not helping us much now."

"Don't underestimate the lessons we learn from history. You never know when some tidbit of information is going to be just the morsel of knowledge you need." David turned the helicopter slightly.

"How are you doing?" Kathryn asked him. "You look pale."

David gave a sideways nod and swiped cold sweat from his forehead. His wound was pulsing pain up and down the left side of his body. "I've been better."

"Is that it?" Kathryn asked, tapping the gla.s.s. A small airfield came into view below them.

"Yep." David prepared for their landing.

As they got closer, it was clear the Rockwall airfield was abandoned. Planes were left where their owners had last put them. Employees of the airport were nowhere to be seen.

"Now when we fly into Majors Field in Greenville, I'm sure the place will be hopping with military. The airport is close to H-Systems, and by now the military has appropriated the place for their purposes." David flew the copter in closer to the ground. "On the other hand, this landing strip looks utterly forgotten."

"I thought we'd have some children of - uh - zombies to contend with," Kathryn said. "Surely there was someone around. People waiting for planes, or hobbyists tending to their planes or planning to fly out of here when the infection hit."

"Well, looks like no one's home," Shaun said hopefully as the helicopter grew closer to the landing pad.

"A deserted airfield could be in our favor," David said. "But, just so we're on the safe side, no one gets out of the bird until I give the word."

The helicopter touched ground with a b.u.mp. Once David cut power to the engine, the blades began to slow with each rotation. He exhaled in relief, touching his side, and wincing a little.

Dejah sluggishly looked around the c.o.c.kpit and out through the tinted windows. Questions animated the expression on her face, but she was too groggy to ask them. David turned around and a.s.sessed her situation. He reached out and removed the helmet from Dejah's head, careful not to disturb the oxygen mask strapped around her face. "She seems to be coming out of it all right."

Shaun nodded.

David and Kathryn looked around the landing pad, surveying the surrounding buildings and field through the bullet-pocked gla.s.s. The area looked clear of people, infected or otherwise.

"I'm going to refuel the chopper. Kathryn, would you take Shaun and go see if there are any snack machines, water, food? Bust them open if you have to. Let's load up with whatever we can find. But let's work fast. Everyone meet back here in no more than twenty minutes." David put his helmet beside his seat and opened the door.

Dejah stirred in her seat, and fidgeted with the oxygen mask, pushing the elastic straps behind her ears. Then she reconsidered and tried to pull it from her face.

"Are you okay?" Shaun asked, helping her remove the oxygen mask. He folded the strap around the plastic mask and pushed it beneath the seat into a mesh bag.

"I think so. Got a killer headache." Dejah rubbed her temples.

"There's a first aid kit under my seat. Should be some Tylenol or something in there," David said before exiting the chopper.

Kathryn arched an eyebrow at Shaun: "Let's go kid, we need to get moving. I'm uneasy with staying here any longer than necessary."

"Go on," Dejah said. "I'll be fine. Going to close my eyes for a few minutes."

Shaun scowled, but leapt from the door Kathryn held open. They pa.s.sed David, who was clutching his side, heading for a fuel service truck nearby. He waved them off as he hopped in and started the truck, pulling it around to refuel the helicopter.

A long corrugated metal building stood to the right of the landing strip, not too far from where they'd landed on the helicopter pad. From the looks of things, the building must have been the main facility for employees and visitors. There was a small house off in the distance with a car parked in front and a three-story control tower, but other than that, the smattering of other buildings were small, a few trailers. Gazing back up at the round-top corrugated building, Shaun tried to shake off a vague sense of unease. The main door swung freely on its hinges, papers and debris swirling around in the wind.

"Someone left in a hurry," Kathryn said, gun pointed inside of the building. Shaun stayed behind her. He covered their backs with his pistol as they went inside.

The building contained what looked like mostly administrative offices with a break room area, and one door in back with a window that looked into the hangar. The place still had electricity. A bank of fluorescent lights near the entrance flickered, but it was mostly well-lit. "Ah, good. Lights."

In one corner, next to some olive-green vinyl sofas stood two snack machines and a soda machine. Shaun stood in front of the soda machine listening to the motor whirling, keeping the drinks chilled. "How are we going to open these things?" He felt the depressed lock with his hands. A little square b.u.t.ton swiveled some, but didn't open the door.

Kathryn disappeared into a small office nearby. She rummaged through the desk and returned holding a jangling ring of keys. "These might help." She tossed the keys to Shaun. "They were in the drawer of the desk."

"Genius," he said, and inserted the key into the nearest machine. He pulled open the heavy illuminated doors. "We need some sort of bags to put the stuff in so we can carry it to the helicopter."

"Should be some trash bags around here somewhere. Maybe in a janitor's closet." Kathryn walked into a shadowy hall and yanked open a narrow door. "Bingo!" Rummaging around on a shelf she procured a roll of black bags and returned to the snack machines. "Here we go." She ripped a few from the roll and handed them to Shaun.

They emptied the machines in short order. Shaun popped the top of a c.o.ke can and gulped the bubbly drink. "Might as well have a cold one," he said to Kathryn, who looked as though she might protest, but then grabbed a root beer and followed Shaun's example.

"How far is the Greenville airport? What did David say it was called?" Kathryn asked. "I've never been past Rockwall County."

Shaun's eyes widened and he suddenly felt worldlier than the armed woman at his side. "Majors Field, and it's not far. Only takes about a half hour from here by car, so it shouldn't be long in the air." Shaun lifted the bags ensuring they were all light enough to carry. "I imagine David won't want to stay here long. He'll want to get into Greenville while we have plenty of daylight."

"Yeah, last thing we want to do is fly into a strange place in the pitch darkness these days. I know he's hoping there'll be military up there, but I'm skeptical myself. I think there's a good chance the quarantine goes one heck of a long way out. We could fly into the place and find it's just like here ... or worse."

"That's what I was thinking. But you never know." Shaun tied knots in the bags and tossed as many over his shoulders as he could carry. "You ready?"

Kathryn slung bags over her back. "We'll have to come back for the rest."

Shaun nodded and left through the door. On the landing pad, a fuel hose ran from the service truck to the chopper as David inspected its underside. They opened the helicopter's side doors and began storing the food wherever they could find a secure place.

"Found some goodies?" David joined them.

"Yeah. We've got to go back for the last couple bags though. The drink bags are heavy," Shaun said. "How's Dejah?" Her eyes were closed and he didn't want to take the risk of waking her.

"Just talked with her. She seems fine." David watched Kathryn secure a bag of snacks under a fat elastic strap connected to the interior side that was once used for securing camera equipment.