Desolation (32 page)

Jerri saw that they were almost on the ground and panicked.
“Take us back up in the air! Take us back up now!” she screamed.

“And go where?!” Wayne shouted, sobbing. “There’s nowhere
left to go!”

Jerri pressed the gun harder against the man’s head.
“Take us up! UP!” she ordered hysterically.

Before Wayne could respond, the front landing gear touched
ground and immediately snapped off, spraying hydraulic fluid and
shredding the tire. A shower of sparks filled the air as the nose of the craft
scrapped along the runway.

Jerri was hurled forward and struck the instrument panel,
dropping her gun on the floor.

 

Wayne whiplashed and struck his head against the yoke, creating
a large gaping gash in his forehead.

The rear wheels touched ground and the craft violently jerked to
the right and skidded towards one of the derelict empty aircraft hangars.
Both of the rear landing gears snapped off and the plane slid across the
runway like a 95,000 pound sled leaving a multitude of sparks in its wake.

The left wing broke off and disintegrated into hundreds of
smaller pieces as it struck the asphalt.

 

The plane crashed against the side of the empty hangar and came
to an abrupt stop.
43

J
erri, dazed and confused, slowly opened her eyes as her senses
reoriented. She found herself lying underneath the sparking control panel.
The side of her head was bleeding and fiery pain radiated up her right leg.
She looked down at her leg and saw that it was badly bruised and was
starting to swell.

It was dark outside but the moonlight coming through the
broken windshield provided enough light for her to see the dismal sights
inside. The entire plane was leaning askew. Glass shards covered the floor
and a runny pool of blood had formed underneath Jonathan’s corpse. The
air had the stench of burning circuitry mixed with gunpowder.

Wayne was slouched over in his seat, still strapped in. He was
unconscious, but still breathing.

 

Jerri heard the chatter of people outside and an engine
approaching in the distance.

She crawled towards the cockpit door on all fours. Her hand
brushed across the pistol that Jonathan had dropped. She picked it up and
tucked it underneath her belt.

She forced herself to stand and pulled on the door handle.
The metallic cockpit door screeched as it swung open and
slammed against the wall.

The sparse windows were shattered and large sections of ceiling
paneling had fallen loose. Water and oil dribbled out of the fractured
ceiling and made the metallic floor slick. Most of the empty army duffel
bags that were piled underneath the gunmetal benches had scattered
across the floor.

She didn’t see any sign of–

Suddenly Andrew lunged out at her from in front of one of the
restrooms next to the cockpit, snarling like a rabid beast. His eyes were
murky and his skin was ashen. Black bile seeped out from his open mouth
and dribbled down the front of his uniform.

Jerri caught a glimpse of him in her peripheral vision just in time
to step out of his way.

Andrew, caught in his momentum, fell face-down against the
bench, knocking out three of his front teeth. Undeterred he quickly
turned back around and swiped his arm out underneath Jerri’s legs.

Jerri fell backwards and landed hard on her back. The gun went
sliding away from her in the fall. She panicked and tried to go after it–

Andrew climbed on top of her before she had the chance and
pinned her down. He stared down at her, mouth open, drooling blood
onto her chest.

Jerri looked up at him with horror as she futilely tried to get out
from underneath his mass. She punched and kicked at him but to no avail.
Andrew let out a guttural moan and leaned down to bite–
Jerri reached up with both hands and grabbed Andrew’s cheeks,
holding his head away just inches from hers.

Andrew opened and closed his mouth, desperately trying to
gnash into her. His eyes held an insatiable hunger behind their listless
appearance.

Jerri looked into his eyes and saw the hunger, the resolute desire,
but she saw something else too… For a brief second she saw a glint of
intelligence, the real him. She finally saw the self-serving, self-absorbed,
malevolent person he really was in life. It was as if undeath made manifest
all his ugly urges and hidden thoughts.

She heard the hydraulics activate as the ramp lowered in the back
of the plane. It made a resounding boom as it crashed against the
pavement.

She had to do it fast.

 

Her eyes flickered over towards the bench just inches away from
them.

Keeping hold of Andrew’s cheeks, Jerri bashed his head against
the corner of the bench again… again… and again until Andrew’s
reanimated corpse no longer moved and the fire inside his soulless eyes
was extinguished.

Jerri rolled his corpse off of herself and crawled away, breathing
frantically, covered in his blood. She stared at the revolting sight of her
work with a strange feeling of detachment.

Boots struck against the floor as a small group of people
ascended up the ramp into the plane.

Jerri bit her bottom lip and quickly picked up the gun she
dropped. She crawled underneath one of the metallic benches furthest
away from Andrew’s body. Hiding underneath the bench, she covered
herself with some of the empty army duffel bags as best she could and
held the pistol against her chest.

The rear bulkhead door creaked open and four flashlight beams
shone into the plane’s darkened interior.

 

Jerri squeezed her eyes shut and lay motionless, hidden.

The beams of light converged on Andrew’s corpse and on his
gashed skull. The flashlight beams flickered weakly as the batteries
struggled to maintain their duty.

Four men wearing tattered FEMA uniforms emerged from the
shadows and crept deeper into the plane, cautious, scanning the area with
their flickering flashlights. Their bodies looked skeletal and frail, their hair
was oily, sores and insect bites covered their skin, their jawlines covered in
stubble or beards.

Despite their uniforms, only one of the men was armed. He was
armed with a pistol and stood in front of the others. He was tall and had
dirty blonde hair. Open sores covered his face.

“This is pathetic,” the man in front said as he shook his head.
“We practically begged for some supplies and backup and all we get is
more of those goddamn bombs and a homicidal skeletal crew!”

He pointed at Andrew’s corpse and threw a hand in the air,
exasperated.

 

The other men groaned and shook their heads.

 

“Do you think they really did it lieutenant?” one of the others
asked.

 

“Do what, Dunlap?” the man in front, Lt. Willow, asked.
“Commit suicide?”

 

Dunlap nodded nervously.

“Look at the body you idiot,” Lt. Willow said as he narrowed his
eyes and kept his flashlight pointed at Andrew. “It wouldn’t be the first
time and it sure won’t be the last.”

“Fucking cowards! The satellite camps always ignored our
requests for help yet begged when
they
needed it! I’m tired of it!” another
man angrily spat.

The others murmured in agreement.

 

Lt. Willow held up his hand and silenced his crew. He sighed and
shut off his flashlight, surveying the plane in the dark.

“Gather whatever valuables and ammo you can find,” Lt. Willow
said. “Make it quick before
they
show up. Someone get in there and check
on the pilots. Judging by their spectacular landing I’m assuming they made
the same choice as their crewmate.”

“Maybe they saw the scenery below and couldn’t take it,” Dunlap
said.

“Maybe,” Lt. Willow said with a shrug.
“What if they’re alive?” someone asked.

“Take them with us,” Lt. Willow said sharply as he scratched one
of the large boils on his neck. “I’d like to ask them some questions.”

A fifth man ran up the ramp and into the plane, breathing wildly.
His uniform was disheveled and his face was pale. Like the others, he was
covered in sores.

The four men turned towards him.
“What is it now?” Lt. Willow quickly asked.

“Sir! T-they’re coming this way!” the man announced, struggling
to catch his breath. “A whole group!”

 

“
Fuck!
” Lt. Willow said in a fiery tone. “I knew it caught their
attention but I didn’t think they’d move in so fast!”

 

Lt. Willow gave an aggravated sigh and pointed towards the back
of the plane.

“Forget it! It’s not worth it. Let’s just pull back and wait until
they’ve scavenged what they’re looking for,” he said. “We’ll move in after
they’re done and gone. It’s not worth risking another one of our vehicles.”

The scraggily group of men left the plane without another word.
A few seconds later Jerri heard the jeep’s tires squeal as it took
off in a hurry.

 

Sensing that the coast was clear, Jerri stuck her head out from
underneath the bench and carefully scanned the area with her pistol…
As soon as she emerged, she heard more footsteps quickly
ascended up the rear ramp.

 

Jerri quickly retreated back in her hiding space and covered
herself back up with the duffel bags.

Six men and two haggard women ran into the plane from the
cargo hold, bodies riddled with tremors. They were wearing muddy
civilian clothes and their skin was covered with purple lesions and boils.
Their faces looked skeletal and their eyes were lifeless as starvation
devoured them from the inside out. Most of them were armed with large
meat hooks fastened out of iron rods and bent strips of steel but a few
had archaic pistols; most of them could hardly hold the weapons in their
trembling hands.

A man with a long red beard looked around the plane as he
gripped his hook tightly. It was sharpened to a fine point. He grunted as
he looked down at Andrew’s corpse.

“Go check the front,” the bearded man grumbled.
Four men brushed past him into the cockpit. Moments later they
came out dragging Jonathan’s corpse and Wayne.

 

The two men holding Jonathan dropped him on the floor.

“One is dead and the other one is getting close to it,” one of the
men said with no emotion. He spat on the floor as soon as he finished
speaking. “Nothing else of value is up there and the coms are smashed to
shit.”

The other two men, thin as rails, held Wayne by his arms and
pulled him towards the bearded man.

 

Wayne had started to regain consciousness and struggled weakly
to break free of his captors.

 

One of the men kicked Wayne in the back.

Wayne fell face down and broke his nose against the floor. Blood
poured out of his nose and pooled around his face as he lay withering in
pain.

The bearded man crouched down and picked Wayne up by his
hair.

 

Wayne let out an excoriating cry and quickly got on his knees.
“What do you want?!” Wayne shouted with blood pouring out of
his nose. “I–”

The bearded man slapped Wayne hard across the face.
Wayne immediately silenced.

“I want to know what you are hauling besides those fucking
foggers!” the bearded man shouted.

 

Wayne’s eyes danced around the room, staring at the faces staring
at him.

 

The bearded man slapped him again.

 

Wayne’s head snapped to the side and his reddened cheek started
to swell.

“Look at me, not at them!” the bearded man shouted. “What else
are you hauling? Where is the food? Where is the medicine and the
ammo?!”

Wayne looked up at the bearded man and narrowed his eyes.
“You… are worse off than we were,” Wayne answered coldly. “I
should have known. I should have fucking known.”

The bearded man grumbled in frustration and then drove the
meat hook up through Wayne’s chin. The tip of the hook erupted out of
his left cheek and was slathered with blood.

The bearded man grunted and motioned for the others to follow
him.

 

Wayne let out a garbled cry as he started to choke on his own
blood. He clawed at the hook desperately.

 

The bearded man pulled Wayne across the floor and out the back
of the plane while Wayne kicked and flailed on the hook.

 

The others drove rusty hooks through Jonathan and Andrew and
lugged them both out the back of the plane.

After several minutes of silence, Jerri cautiously emerged from
under the bench a second time, clutching the pistol tightly. She forced
herself to stand despite the pain.

Whatever was happening in Camp 7, she had no intention on
staying.
44

J
erri limped into the rear cargo hold of the plane. She used one
hand to support herself on the wall and held the gun with the other. As
she entered the room she quickly scanned the area with her pistol, finger
wrapped around the trigger.

Bloody streaks snaked their way down the center of the cargo
area, down the ramp, and out onto the pavement. The Lazarus devices
were still strapped tightly against both sides of the hold by their nylon
straps.

Jerri lowered her gun and cautiously approached the ramp. She
hunkered down and peeked out the rear of the plane.

Outside the nighttime air was chilly and the tarmac seemed to
stretch out for miles. Two men armed with shotguns stood guard at the
back of the plane a few yards away from the ramp. They were facing away
from Jerri and wore dirty jeans, patched fleece jackets, and scuffed boots.

Jerri contemplated opening fire but for only a fleeting moment.
She knew that starting a firefight wouldn’t be the best course of action if
she could avoid it. She started to descend down the steel ramp as quietly
as she could but each step made a noticeable clank as her heals struck the
surface.

One of the men turned towards her, half-asleep. His eyes
immediately widened at her presence. He swung the barrel of the shotgun
towards her–

Jerri quickly opened fire and struck the man once in leg and once
in the abdomen, despite aiming for his chest.