A New World: Return (21 page)

Read A New World: Return Online

Authors: John O'Brien

I do not have that long to find out as the city comes into view ahead through the windshield.
 
There is a distinct lack of the smoke plumes compared to the other cities we saw on our way down.
 
Sure, there are small columns of smoke rising in the afternoon air but the dark, oily plumes that existed in all of the other grand cities is absent.
 
I don’t know the reason why but I’ll take it
, I think setting the aircraft up for descent.

We descend over the outlying suburbs surrounding the actual city of Atlanta.
 
Tree-lined roads and neighborhoods fill the areas in between, shadows filling the paved streets.
 
The sun, lighting the tops of the trees and rooftops below us, sits halfway through the western sky.
 
Browns, grays, and reds show through the green foliage with ribbons of gray outlining these colors and encircling them.
 
Below us are not the usual box patterns found in developments but swirls, curves, and meanderings that are pleasing to the eye.
 
With exception of the lack of movement and the brownish smoke ascending in several places, you would not think anything is out of the ordinary.
 
It certainly presents a different picture than those cities further north.

Completing the descent checks, I descend down to 500 feet, calling the team leaders into the cockpit making it one very crowded place indeed.
 
Standing room only.
 
The airport we are shooting for is actually a little to the northeast of the city with the CDC to the south and east.
 
It is only a little less than ten miles travel time on the ground from the airfield to the CDC.
 
I hope we can find some vehicles to use close to the airfield for transportation.

“I’ll do a flyby over the airport and then we’ll look for a route to CDC so we can get an idea of what we’re looking at.
 
We’ll also do some flybys of the campus itself,” I say to those assembled, yelling to be heard.

The airport parking lot shows a few cars and pickups sitting in the afternoon sun, the tops of their colored roofs and a sparkle from their windshields glare back.
 
I have the coordinates of the CDC set as a waypoint in the navigation system and dial it up, flying directly to it.
 
Being so close, it immediately comes into view just off our nose.
 
Well, at least the area does.
 
It appears to be set up in a campus-like fashion.
 
I have never been here so this is all new to me, but I have had to determine locations and routes like this many times in the past.

“Wow!
 
This is going to be more difficult than I imagined,” I say looking at the multitude of buildings passing by below.

The enormity of it with our limited manpower almost makes me want to just try somewhere else, but we are here so we will try what we can with what we have.

“Yeah,” I hear Lynn shout over my shoulder.

“Okay, let’s head back and find the best route to get there,” I shout back.

We climb up, picking our way back to the airfield close by, analyzing the roads to find the best route.
 
Finding one, we memorize the landmarks and turns.
 
Looking at the same picture on the ground is so much different than what it looks like from the air.
 
You can fly over a piece of ground a hundred times and think you have it down, but then easily get turned around when you get your boots on the ground.
 
The mind lends itself to doubt when traversing something new.
 
‘Is this right?’ is a common question.
 
But we are all trained for this type of situation so it should not be too difficult; especially with the short distance involved.

“Get everyone buckled in if you would,” I yell to Lynn.
 
“We’ll do a team leader brief immediately after landing.”

The cockpit empties somewhat as I circle around to line up on a final approach, our before landing checklist is completed in record time.
 
I push the nose down slightly keeping the runway threshold glued in the windshield.
 
One of the keys to landing is to put the aim point right on the threshold, so that if you did not flare the aircraft, that is where you would hit.
 
Another important key is to not hit the ground, well, without your tires touching first.

“Gear down,” I call over the intercom.

Robert reaches over to the gear handle and pushes it in the down position causing an immediate rumble through the aircraft from the gear and gear doors disrupting the airflow.
 
The rumble stops and three green lights illuminate by the handle indicating success.

“Flaps to 10,” I say liking the fact that we have three safe gear indications as the medium-sized, light gray runway grows larger in the screen.

The number ‘2R’ appears on the runway near the threshold through our windshield.
 
The nose of the aircraft tries to rise up as the flaps come down due to the change of the airflow over the wing.
 
I anticipate that with a small, quick movement down on the control wheel and flick the trim button to correct the aircraft’s behavior to our aerodynamic change.

“Flaps at 50,” I call out as we continue our descent into the airfield.
 
Once again experiencing the rise and correcting.

I finally call for full flaps and, in my peripheral, watch Robert move the flap lever all of the way down.
 
The slowing and pitch change is noticed dramatically as the flaps, which are basically barn doors, extend down from the wing and out into the slipstream. The runway begins to fill our field of view, my attention divided between the approaching ground and airspeed indicator, adjusting the throttles in small increments accordingly.
 
Just as it seems impact with the ground is imminent, I raise the nose as the threshold passes underneath, bringing the throttles back smoothly as we transition from a descent to level flight just above the runway.
 
As the airspeed bleeds off, I raise the nose higher trying to keep the aircraft aloft for as long as possible yet allowing it to descend slowly to the runway.

A very small bump is felt throughout the 130 as the wheels come into contact with the paved surface and begin rolling along.
 
The aircraft settles as if sitting down in its favorite chair after a long day, both relieved and sorry to be out of its natural environment.
 
Lowering the nose wheel to the runway, I bring the props into reverse thrust, causing the forward momentum to drop off rapidly, the g-force causing our bodies to thrust forward against our straps.
 
Applying slight pressure on the brakes forces us to press even harder against the belts holding us in our seats.
 
Settling down to taxi speed, I bring the props back into their normal rotation angle and we pull off of the runway, taxiing into what looks like main terminal area.

Going through the normal shutdown procedure, the props slowly wind down to a stop and we open up the back.
 
Alpha and Bravo teams emerge first establishing a quick perimeter around us.
 
The heat and humidity that is so prevalent in the south during the summer months sweeps into the aircraft, making it feel like you need gills to survive and breathe.
 
Once again, only that lonely silence accompanies our arrival.
 
The dream-like ambience prevails.
 
The total lack of movement and sounds that should be customary just does not seem right.
 
So out of place.
 
I wonder if I will ever get used to this?
 
I ask myself as I gaze around the area.

The afternoon sun bathes us, the humidity in the air adds to the brightness of the day, blinding in its intensity.
 
Sweat immediately forms on my brow and runs down my spine, dark spots appear under my arms on my ‘needing to be changed soon’ flight suit.
 
I breathe a heavy sigh in the still, humid air thinking about the enormity of what we are about to undertake.
 
The numerous buildings that need to be searched.
 
The very real possibility of not being able to find what we are looking for.
 
And, not knowing exactly what that may look like.
 
I have in my mind that it would be a report of some kind stored in a large file.
 
The risks of entering so many buildings that could be housing a large number of night runners.
 
This is a very real possibility as I assume there were many of the infected that were quarantined for study as the search for a cure became a priority, especially considering the magnitude and speed at which this all came down.

“Let’s get the team leaders together,” I tell Lynn as she steps out onto the ramp next to me.
 
“We’ll have to make this quick as our time is short.”

Once again her command voice can be heard echoing across the area, the stillness of our surroundings magnifies the loudness.
 
It bounces off the buildings a short distance away; reverberating across the parking lot close by and down the adjacent streets.

“Team leaders on me,” she calls out.

They gather around, each one affected by the heat and moisture, rings of sweat showing on their fatigues; Lynn, Drescoll, and Horace and others, to a lesser extent, are accustomed to the heat of the desert but not the humidity.
 
Kuwait can be humid with the shores of the gulf nearby, but not like this.
 
I sit down on the hot surface of the ramp, feeling the heat sear immediately through my thin flight suit, wanting to stand up right away in order to not catch on fire.
 
The feeling dissipates after a few short moments.
 
The others follow suit and sit in a gaggle around me.

“Well, we have a huge task ahead of us given the large amount of structures.
 
I’m thinking the report or information we’re looking for should be in the director’s office but I have no clue where that is.
 
My guess is we start in the main building close to the entrance.
 
I’m sure the reception desk, or whatever they have in lieu of that, will have some sort of directory.
 
That should be the first place we look,” I say opening the briefing.

“And by us, do you mean you plan on going?”
 
Lynn asks sitting to my right.

“I was planning on it,” I say answering.

“I think you should stay here,” she adds with a sideways look.

“And why is that?”
 
I ask.

“Because you’re the only one who can fly this beast,” she answers nodding toward the 130 behind us.
 
“Something happens to you and we’re stuck.”

I must admit I have thought about this a little as we were passing over the CDC campus.
 
I mean, I feel that Robert could get it started and airborne.
 
He is able to configure the nav system to a degree as I spent some time with him on that while we were droning through the endless skies.
 
It is the critical getting down part – meaning landing - that we still have to work on.
 
A smooth take off and flawless flight are meaningless if you rip the wings and gear off on landing.
 
Really turns a good flight into a bad one in a hurry.
 
Impacting the ground and exploding tends to really ruin a good day.

“Okay, point taken.
 
I’ll stay here,” I say after a moment’s pause and feeling reluctant to stay.

“Lynn, take Black, Green, and Blue Teams with you.
 
My suggestion is to assign one team per building to quicken the search but you make that call on arriving.
 
You may want to take the entire group in and do it one at a time.
 
You have until 21:00 to be back.
 
And I mean back here by then regardless of what you find or where you are,” I continue.

“Hooah, sir,” she says, her old ways returning.

“There are a few cars in the parking lot so we’ll have to use those for transportation.
 
Anyone know how to hotwire?”
 
I inquire.

“I think there’s a guy on my team who was in maintenance,” Horace says answering.
 
“I’ll see.”

“Okay, if not we’ll have to figure something out.
 
I don’t want to spend a lot of time here so are there any questions?”
 
I ask.
 
No one speaks up.

“I’m going to take Robert up to practice takeoffs and landings so you’ll hear us overhead.
 
I’ll keep the secondary radio on our freq so let me know if you run into anything.
 
I can also provide overhead directions if you get lost and guide you in.
 
So, seeing there aren’t any questions, let’s get a move on,” I continue and finish the briefing.

The team leaders head to gather their teams and equipment for the trip out.
 
Horace finds out that her maintenance guy should be able to start the vehicles in the event we can’t find keys readily available.
 
They head toward the parking lot as I gather Robert and Bri and head into the aircraft; sealing it shut and settling into our ‘far too familiar’ seats.

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