The Last Tribe (69 page)

Without fanfare or another
announcement, Peter pushed the controls forward and the plane sped down the
runway.  Peter adjusted the flaps.  The front wheels came off the ground, the
back wheels lifted, and they cleared the trees at the end of the runway by
several hundred feet.  They were in flight and headed west.

Dan leaned towards Brian.  “Pretty
exciting, huh?”

“Flying is boring.  You have to sit
in your seat the whole time, and my mom told me this flight is for like two
days.”  Brian crossed his arms, lamenting the next twelve to fourteen hours.

“We’ll figure out how to make it
fun.  Don’t worry.”  Dan assured him.  “We hooked the gaming gear up to the big
television in business class, and we can run movies back there.  You kids can
have your run of that section.”

“Can I go now?”  Brian’s arms
uncrossed.

“Let’s give it a few minutes.” 
Todd told him.  “You have a long time to have fun.”

“I know we are free to do what we
want.”  Peter crackled over the intercom.  “But stay buckled for a few minutes
while I get up to the correct altitude.  It can be bumpy at these lower
levels.  Dan, if you want to load the flyers while that room isn’t cold, you
can get up, but everyone else should stay seated for a few minutes.”  The
intercom clicked off.

Peter put the microphone down. 
“This is going to be an adventure, fellas.  I don’t have a weather report.  For
all we know, we could be running into a huge tropical storm in Hawaii, or a
spring storm in any of our cities.  We’ll play it by ear.”  Peter settled into
his chair.  He had flown for over fifty years, and never lost the thrill and
love of being in the air.  It was in his blood.  He knew this was close to his
last flight, and he soaked in every minute.

“Do you need me to stay up here?” 
Antonio enjoyed the takeoff, but was more interested in seeing a movie or
gaming in the back of the plane.

“No.”  Peter told him.  “If Ahmed
will stay, I should be good.  I’ll call you if I need a break or the rest
room.”

Antonio jumped up and went in the
back.  “If you can get another person to sit up here, you can take breaks.” 
Peter told Ahmed.  “I just want someone with me to make sure I don’t fall
asleep.”

“The computer is flying us,
right?”  Ahmed scanned the controls.

“Yep, but I don’t want to risk not
having two people up here.” 

“Well then, what do you want to
talk about?”  Ahmed asked, his aviator sunglasses reflecting the blue sky and
clouds.

“Warm water.”  Peter replied.  “The
warm ocean water I am going to dive into when we get to Hawaii.  Sandy beaches,
empty from one end to the other, and beautiful blue warm water.” 

Ahmed and Peter discussed the joys
of tropical living, and their anticipation for sweating under a hot sun for the
first time in months.  Peter missed fresh fruit more than any other food.  He
could take or leave steak, but bananas?  They were his favorite.  Their
conversation lasted into Chicago’s airspace.

Peter kept the cabin door open
during the flight.  He turned and yelled for Dan as the plane approached
Chicago. 

“Yes?”  Dan replied, poking his
head through the door a second later.

“Are we locked and loaded with the
flyers?”  Peter asked.

“We’ve been good since we left.”

Peter picked up the intercom.  “If
everyone could sit down, I’m going to give our operation paper drop a try in
the Chicagoland area.  It might get a little bumpy while I’m descending, so
buckle your belts for a few minutes.”  He looked at Ahmed.  “Where should we
go?  We only get one shot at this.”

“I would guess people would stay by
the lake for food, but I have no idea.  We can’t drop the paper by the lake,
that would be a waste.”  Ahmed laughed.  “We should have discussed this
earlier.  Maybe it wasn’t a game time decision.” 

Todd snuck up to the cockpit and
strapped into one of the empty seats.  “We lived in Chicago for five years. 
Let’s go up to Evanston by Northwestern.  It’s near the lake.  Some of the
paper might blow into the lake, but it’s a chance we have to take, right?  That’s
why Avery laminated a few.  I know you are probably thinking people might live right
on Lake Michigan to fish, but I doubt it, not in the winter.  They would go to
the suburbs.  There are plenty of small ponds to fish.  There are deer and game
to hunt.  West and north of the city is the place to drop.”

Peter descended at a comfortable
pace.  There was a little turbulence, but no big drops or jolts.  The enormous plane
absorbed most of the turbulence bumps.  “I’ll fly straight up the city, drop
the leaflets coming from the south.  When I see the football stadium I’ll bank
west, open the gear, and we’ll give it a try.” 

“All we can do.”  Todd was curious
to see if the flyer program worked. 

“I’m going to put it on the screen
for everyone to see.”  Peter smiled, his teeth were white under his three day
salt and pepper stubble and dark sunglasses.  He pointed to a button that read
‘rear camera.’  “This plane has a camera on the belly.  You can watch the
landing gear go down.  A fun gimmick to keep the passengers occupied.”

“Nice.”  Ahmed duplicated the old
man’s grin while nodding in approval. 

Chicago loomed in their front
window.  Peter was down to 5,000 feet, and the ride was choppy.  He buzzed over
the Sears Tower heading north.  Todd watched as they passed over a noticeably
brown Wrigley Field.  The normally green ivy appeared dead.

“I miss baseball.  I didn’t go to
many games, but it was a big part of my life.  I never saw the Cubs win the
World Series.  Damn.”

“Like the rapture had anything to
do with that.”  Ahmed replied sarcastically.

“That’s the place you’re talking
about, right?”  Peter pointed towards the football stadium at Northwestern.

“Yes, go up a little bit more, turn
and drop.”  Todd’s face was glued to the window to see the flyers.

Peter waited a few seconds, turned
the plane west in a wide bank, and announced to the cabin.  “Well folks, pardon
the interruption, but if you would please focus your attention on the viewing
screens, you’ll see our first attempt to contact other survivors.”  Peter
flicked the camera button to “on” and dropped the landing gear.

The passengers watched their
television screens as papers flew out of the bottom of the plane.  The kids
screamed.

“It sounds like it worked, at least
from our end.”  Peter said to Ahmed and Todd.  He kept the landing gear down
for a few minutes before raising the wheels.  Peter set the altitude to 36,000
feet, and sat back as the plane ascended.  When the plane was back to
appropriate altitude, he noticed the fuel gauge needled was down a notch.

“We have a problem.”  Peter
reported to Todd.  “We can only drop leaflets one more time, maybe twice.”

“What’s wrong?”  Ahmed asked from
the co-pilot seat.

“It’s eating up too much fuel.  We
burn more at the lower altitudes, and climbing back up to 36,000 is almost like
taking off again.  If we fly to Texas, drop fliers three times, maybe hit St.
Louis going there, Los Angeles, San Diego, San Francisco on the way up the
coast?  We’ll crash in the Pacific before we get to Hawaii.”

“Holy shit.”  Todd said.

“Don’t panic, we’re fine, but we
can’t drop fliers from here to Honolulu.  Pick two more cities, and we go from
there.  I suggest L.A.  We drop as many as we can, then we fly to our new
home.”

“I’ll  discuss it with everyone. 
Damn.  Well, it was a ‘nice if we can.’  I’ll let Antonio know he might not get
a bump in his female population.”  Todd unbuckled and went into the back.

“You need anything?”  Ahmed asked. 
“I’m going to use the restroom, grab a drink and some crackers.”

“I’d love a water, thank you.” 
Peter sat comfortably in his seat.  The plane was on auto-pilot towards
Dallas.  Peter took a guess and changed the destination to San Francisco.  The
plane altered course, steering ever so slightly towards the west.  “We’ll hit
San Francisco and L.A.  Anyone who stayed in Texas in July probably died from
dehydration or heatstroke.”  He mumbled to himself.  “Or they made the smart
move towards the coast and are in Mexico or Los Angeles.” 

Todd relayed the fuel concern to
the group.  “Doing it two more times would not be a risk, but that’s it.  We
can fly low through San Francisco, L.A. then it’s off to paradise.”

“You really think people are in San
Francisco?”  Avery asked. 

“It’s a big area.  Oakland is
there, San Francisco, Sacramento.  They could fish for food.  The climate is
nice.  Yes, probably a better bet than L.A.  L.A. is hot.  People in California
would migrate north to escape the desert.”  John answered.

“I’ll report to the captain.”  Todd
walked towards Peter, meeting Ahmed in the steward’s cabin.  “We vote for San
Fran and L.A.”

“I thought as much.”  Peter
replied.  “I set the location to San Fran.  We can drop the paper and fly down
the coast to L.A. at a lower altitude before climbing back up and out to
Hawaii.”  Peter looked down at the computer.  “We have three hours before the
drop.  Can you let Dan know he can reload whenever.”  Peter remembered their
confusion about where to drop in Chicago.  “And ask if anyone has a suggestion
on where to drop in San Francisco.  I’ve been a few times, but only as a
tourist.  Am I dropping on Nob Hill and calling it a day?”  Peter

“I’ll check, and if you need
relief, I can send Tony up here.  He’s playing games and watching videos with
the other kids.”

“I will stretch my legs and walk
back with you.  Ahmed, you okay for a second?”

“To just sit here, right?  I don’t
do anything?”  Ahmed had mild concern in his voice.

“Just sit back, enjoy the view of
nothing, and eat your crackers.”  Peter told him.  “I’ll come back with some
Milano cookies.”  He gave Ahmed a pat on the shoulder.

Peter used the facilities and came
back to the cabin.  “Has anyone spent any time in San Francisco?”

“I went to Stanford.”  Dan told him,
raising his hand.  “It’s a complicated area.  San Francisco is big.  Oakland is
big, Sacramento is big, and there are sizable towns up and down the coast.  All
of the areas are suitable for people.”  He thought for a minute.  “Let’s
descend over Oakland, drop fliers on San Francisco, keep low, and I’ll throw leaflets
all down the coast.  We have more than enough papers.  I’ll save a thousand for
Honolulu.”

“I don’t want to raise and lower
the gear.  Can you not get sucked out the trap door hole if I leave the gear
down?”  Peter was weary of playing up and down with the landing gear.

“I hope.”  Dan laughed.  “L.A. is a
desert.   No one could stay there.  They’d die.  Any survivors would migrate to
Malibu for food, water, and vegetation.”  Dan shook his head.  “California and
L.A. had so many people, I bet there are fifty survivors down there.”  He
paused.  “Let’s fly to San Diego, keep the landing gear down to Malibu.  The
odds are high a group of people are down there.”

“I can do that.”  Peter told him. 
“We’ll make it work.  We have plenty of fuel with our revised plan.”

“How about this?”  Dan continued. 
“I’ll work with the door open in SoCal.  If I don’t get sucked out and can drop
fliers to the ground effectively, I’ll pepper Northern California the same
way.  As a favor to me, let’s add Seattle before we bank west to Hawaii.”

A smile crept across Peter’s face. 
“That is a great plan.  I’ll call you when we’re close.  You have two and a
half hours until we hit San Diego.”  Peter walked back to the cockpit and sat
in his chair.  He checked the instrument panel, adjusted their heading from San
Francisco to San Diego, and settled back in his seat to talk to Ahmed.

Dan stood to load fliers into the
landing gear.  He watched the group from the door of the steward’s pantry. 
Despite the total collapse of society, people still followed established rules
with regards to plane travel.  Seat belts were fastened, and his friends
remained in their seats. 

“What’s the story?”  Bernie asked. 
She was on a break from the kids, who did not need the chaperoning she
anticipated.  The children watched movies and played games happily and without
incident.

“We are going to fly over
California, drop leaflets from San Diego to Seattle.  We have about two and a
half hours.”  Dan explained.  “I’m going to load fliers.  I want a movie
rolling when I get back.”

Dan and Paul wore gloves, ear
protection, and coats as they stuffed rescue letters through the jet’s floor
open to clouds.  Their ears stung from the noise despite their protection.  They
let go of the bundles of notes above the opening and watched the papers get sucked
to the ground.  Peter assumed the cold would be unbearable, but the noise
trumped any discomfort the sub-zero temperatures posed.

Paul grabbed the trapdoor handle
and shut the hole.  “That’s enough, I can’t take anymore.  I want to hear when
I get old.”  He screamed to his friend.  They had thick rope wrapped around
their waists, safety lines preventing them from getting closer than a foot to
the opening.  The lines were not to help them if they fell out of the hole. 
The lines prevented them from getting anywhere near the hole.

The noise was deafening until the
landing gear was raised and the outer doors thumped shut. 

Dan sat with his legs stretched out
ahead of him.  He panted.  It was not hard work, but it was exhausting to stare
into a 5,000 foot abyss, throw papers, and make sure you do not go with them. 
He used his hands to keep himself up, his palms on the ground just behind him. 

“You think there was anyone down
there?”  Dan asked with a yell.

“I don’t know.  You stayed in
Boston, and that place was freezing.  I bet survivors stayed.  Where would they
go?”  Paul stood and reached his hand out to help Dan off the ground.  “We’re
doing what we can, what we know is right.”  Paul grunted as he helped the large
man to his feet.

“Thanks for the help.”  Dan pulled
off his gloves.  “You’re right, all we can do is what we can.”  The plane
ascended slightly.  Paul opened the trapdoor and threw two thousand notes into
the wheel well for the last west coast drop in Seattle.

“You should go up front to see the
space needle one more time.”  Paul told him. 

“It shouldn’t be too long, maybe
another four hours before Hawaii.”  The stack of was down to a less than a
thousand.  Dan and Paul peppered California with close to 80,000 rescue pages. 

“I hope Peter takes a break.  He’s
been sitting up there all day.”  Paul unzipped his coat and placed it on a pile
of luggage.

“He won’t.  You can tell, this is
what he does.  He flies planes.  If you were doing the thing you loved for the
very last time, wouldn’t you soak it in?  I would.”  Dan placed his jacket with
Paul’s.

Dan enjoyed the Seattle skyline one
last time.  It was raining.  Peter opened the landing gear over the Space
Needle before banking west towards Hawaii.  He hoped the rain would not destroy
all of the fliers, though he knew fifty of them were laminated.

Peter made an announcement as Dan
and Paul walked towards the cargo hold to dump papers in the wheel well for the
drop over Honolulu.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have
begun our final ascent towards Lihue International Airport.  Kick back. 
According to the navigation computer we’ll be landing in approximately three
hours and forty two minutes.  The next land you see will be the beautiful
island of Oahu.”

Dan and Paul shook hands after the
final loading of fliers into the landing gear well.  “Let’s get back to our
seats before they put a rom-com on the screen.”  Paul looked at the animals. 
He nodded to Kelly and Karen, playing Gin on the ground next to the cows. 

 “To be honest, I didn’t go to many
movies.  I’ll watch pretty much anything.”  Dan did not rush like Paul asked.

“You have to back me up on this
one.  I can’t watch another romantic movie, I just can’t.”  Paul pleaded.

“Okay, I’m just saying, I haven’t
seen it, so it wouldn’t be the worst pick.”  Dan raised his hands in mock
surrender.

“Just work with me, okay?”  Paul parted
the curtain into first class.  “When Harry Met Sally” was on the screen.  He
dropped his head.

“Awesome, I haven’t seen this
before.”  Dan said, sitting next to Todd.  “Paul, can you look for some popcorn
like you said you would?  Thanks.”

“Popcorn sounds great!  Thanks
Paul.”  Emily told her brother in law.  “Maybe pass around some drinks too?”

Paul’s mouth opened slightly in
disbelief.  He risked his life to throw fliers out of the plane, and now he was
relegated to steward duties. 

Dan did not make eye contact with him.

 “I’ll take a Sprite.”  Jamie
called out, eyes glued to the screen. 

“Coke!”  Todd raised his hand.

Orders continued.  Paul was in a no
win situation.  He went to the pantry for popcorn and soda.