The three carried the
heavy bags back to Bones and deposited
them in the back. Bis
hop said he would drive and told
David to get in the front and be read
y to shoot. He told Sarah to share the passenger seat with David. S
he defiantly put her hands on her hips and said, “I don’t think so.”
David seemed fine with the idea, and after Bishop explained to her that was the only area of the v
ehicle that was bullet proof Sarah Beth
relented.
Bishop pulled his pistol and an extra
magazine
and started Bones.
He exited the garage and turned toward the street that would eventually take them back to the ranch. He hadn’t made it a full block when sparks flew off of the hood from someone shooting at them. As he sped around another corner, he saw their path was blocked by
a
semi-truck
,
abandoned in
the
intersection. There was no way around it. As Bishop put Bones in reverse, David’s rifle started firing and Bishop looked up to see several men running down the
sidewalk
trying to keep up with them. Bishop spun Bones around and headed down a
different street, navigating as best he could around the abandoned cars that seemed to be
everywhere. More bullets
thwacked
into Bone’s frame
,
and one hit the dash right in front of
Bishop. A few blocks
later,
their
pa
th was again blocked by a three-
car pileup probably caused when the drivers died after inhaling the poison gas. Bishop turned again
,
and thi
s time noticed
headlights behind him. Within a few blocks, two motorcycles had joined the chase. He yelled at David to shoot at the pursuers
and tried to get some speed out of the heavy SUV. Bishop
started to make another turn, but even
more headlights
were
heading a
t them. His search for a path south
to safety
met with continued opposition
,
every route seemed to be blocked. He was being herded in.
He narrowly avoid
ed
a collision when
a pickup truck jumped into the intersection in front of him. Everyone inside
B
ones ducked as bullets tore into the engine compartment and cracked overhead.
Bishop ventured
down a wide
four-lane
street
, and
a sign caught his eye, “Highland Airport.” It gave him an idea.
The trio
turned toward the airport and found the roadway reasonabl
y
uncluttered. He drove as fast as dodging the legacy cars and trucks would allow and seemed to have lost the headlight
s
chasing them. He knew it wouldn’t last long. As the
y
sped down the highway
, Bishop noticed the city of Alpha was thinning out. Manmade structures were being replaced with open patches of high desert scrub and the occasional cluster of pines.
A series of flashing lights on the dash indicated Bones had been badly injured and a minute or so later misty steam started pouring out of the hood.
Just hang in there a little bit longer
,
big guy – just a little further.
T
hey were about five miles outside
town when another sign pointed toward the airport. Bishop didn’t even slow down and busted through the chain link gate blocking the entrance. The
y
hurried up the airport access road and pulled ar
ound a large tin-
roofed building.
An enormous door was partially open, revealing several private plan
e
s inside. Two more rows of aircraft lined the grassy area next to the building.
Bishop told David, “Go in there and find a plane you can fly. Make sure it has enough gas to get to Meraton. Hurry!”
Bishop
grabbed
David’s big rifle and
a spare
magazine, hustling around
the corner. He found a slight indentation where
rain
water drained from the roof of the big structure
. Bishop extended the bipod on the
weapon
and went prone.
A few minutes later, he could see headlights coming their way out of Alpha. From the looks of th
ings, the Ghoulish had formed
quite a convoy.
He could hear David yelling instructions to Sarah from the hanger. They were looking for gasoline.
The convoy almost bypassed
th
e airport. Bishop guessed the smashed gate gave them away when
the line of six
vehicles
slowed down and then stopped on the road. Bishop watched several men hop down from the beds of pickup trucks and a discussion followed. He could make out some gestures in the headlight
s
,
and in a few
minutes,
a decision was made. One truck with two riflemen
was appointed the lucky winner
and turned into the airport lane. Bishop waited until the truck was even with the gate and began firing at the engine block. After the truck swerved and stopped, he then turned his attention to all of the men
watching from
the roadway. I
f
the situation were
n’t so dire, it would have
been comical. Through his rifle
scope, Bishop could see dozens of men scrambling for cover anywhere close by. Some of the men just laid flat in the road
while others crawled to the ditch
.
One man ran around fla
pping his arm
s like a bird trying to take flight
.
He used up a full 20
round clip, slapped in
the
new one
,
and then stopped.
His
radio sounded in his ear bud, “Everything okay out there?”
Bishop keyed his
mic,
“Yeah, I’m fine. We have company. I can hold them off for a little bit, but we don’t have mu
ch time. How’s it going with you
?”
“We have a plane, but its tank i
s
almost empty. We are draining the fuel out of other planes.
It’s
taking forever.”
Bishop thought for a minute, “Can you send Sarah out with your spare magazines?”
Click. Click.
Bishop heard someone coming up behind him and then Sarah dropped the three spare mags of .308 amm
o beside him. She didn’t say a
word and ran back to help David.
Bishop watched as the men on the road began to regain their composure. He could hear voices shouting over the noise of the idling motors. He waited a bit more and decided it was time to add some stress to the
ir lives. He centered the cross
hairs on a visible headlight and fired again, watching the glass shatter and the light go dim. He spent the next few minutes randomly shooting at a tire or person or whatever caught his eye.
Someone down on the road finally got their act t
ogether, and Bishop saw two off-road motorcycles
head up the access road. They swerved and
jinked
in an attempt to make a more difficult target
,
and Bishop ignored them. He laid the big rifle down and hustled back to the rear of the building, pulling the M4 around from his back.
As the two riders slowed to make the turn toward Bones, Bishop shot them both.
Their bikes made a shower of sparks a
s
the
y
slid
across the pavement on their sides, the
rider’s
bodies rolling across the ground from the momentum. Bishop waited a moment to see if they moved and then ran back to his hide. For the next few minutes, he randomly fired at the convoy in the road. He knew he wasn’t hitting much, but was trying to buy time for
the refueling he hoped was progressing
well in the hanga
r. He noticed the sun was starting to rise behind him
,
and that wasn’t good.
The men on the
highway
finally figured out
Bishop
’s vantage point,
and
bullets started to pelt the area.
It was only about 400 meters to the road, but they seemed to be having trouble finding the range. He tried to return fire when he saw a muzzle flash
,
but
had no way of knowing if he were
hitting anything. He was now down to a single magazine of ammunition for the big rifle.
His radio sounded again, “Bishop, we’re ready. I need to preflight check this thing, but we finally have enough gas. I found some charts
,
too.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“Sarah is loading the duffle bags right now. I just need about five more minutes. I have to let this engine warm up and check everything.”
“Okay, I can buy you five, but that’s going to be about it.”
Click. Click.
Bishop heard David’s voice shout “Clear!” from inside the hanger
,
and a motor sputtered,
coughed,
and then started running. The noise evidently could be heard on the road because Bishop started seeing frantic activity through his scope. Arms were waving
,
and men were scrambling everywhere.
Bishop did his best to keep their heads down, but they were determined not to let
the
prey escape.
Someone must have decided it was best for the convoy to rush into the airport, sniper fire be damned. As the assortment of vehicles began to line up for a charge, Bishop fired the last of ammunition for the big rifle. He decided he had worn out his welcome in
his
current position and began running
back along the side of the hanga
r.
As he rounded the corner, he saw a small private plane rolling out onto the concrete. H
e caught up to the door and threw
in the big rifle. David motioned him to get into the back, but Bishop knew there wasn’t time. He looked David in the eye and shouted over the engine noise, “Get the fuck out of here. Tell Terri I
’m
going to Bliss
,
and that I love her. Now go!”
David nodded and revv
ed the engine. The plane slowly started rolling toward the runway as Bishop
sprinted to the corner of the hanga
r to buy them more time.
David guided the plane toward the runway and glanced behind him. Bishop
was
shooting at the approaching line of v
ehicles, and they were returning fire
. He gave the aircraft more throttle and turned onto the
long stretch of pavement he hoped would allow escape
. He watched the speed indicator and as soon as the
needle hit 80, he slowly pulled
on the
yo
ke
,
and then they
were
air
born
e
. Sarah
peeked
out
the
window, then back at David,
and smiled
a little sheepishly.
“I’ve never flown before. How old are you?”
David just shook his head, but didn’t answer. He was co
ncentrating on angles and pedal
s
,
and as soon as they were at 1,000 feet, he began a slow turn toward the sun. He glanced out his window and saw Bishop riding one of the downed motorcycles
while
being chased by two trucks. Bishop was heading north into the desert and waved a
s
David zoomed overhead.
Terri had been tossing and turning all night. She opened her eyes and
could
tell it
was daylight outside, but didn’t feel like getting up. She hated sleeping in an empty bed and for the thousan
dth time, wondered if Bishop were
all right. An odd noise made her
rise
up on her elbows and listen. It was a growling sound
,
and for a second she thought there was a dog outside her room. The noise continued to get louder
,
and then she realized it was an engine of some sort. Suddenly
,
an airplane zoomed overhead followed by several shouts from people outside. She scrambled out of bed and pulled on her pants, rushing for the door.