900 Miles: A Zombie Novel (27 page)

We probably could have killed the creature. We might have pulled Chauffer on board the helicopter. We certainly could have helped him.

Kyle and I made eye contact,
and then looked back at Avalon. The shadows of the dead danced in the light from the fence as they moved towards us. Glaring at that bastard for a mere moment, we both turned and sprinted back to the spinning blades of the chopper.

In this world, some people simply don’t deserve to be helped.

The Zs made it to the airfield as we were lifting off the ground. We observed the creatures scatter around and then hone in on the sand trap. At least ten of them dove right in there, spitting up a cloud of sand and gore that we could visibly see in the oversized spotlight on the helicopter.

Safely lifting into the sky, I took a moment to look down at Avalon. I could still see the commoners holding off the dead.  Small sparkles of light flashed from their guns.
We flew over a group of zombies, who all stopped dead in their tracks to look up at the spotlight from the helicopter. I was briefly reminded of the creatures we had seen in the field, watching the space junk fall from orbit like children fascinated by fireworks.

Higher and higher we flew. Until we were completely engulfed in the night.

We’d all eventually have to pay for our sins.

A flying limousine, was the best way to describe the twin-engine helicopter we had borrowed. Kyle flipped a switch, and a small doorway opened from the cockpit to the cabin of the vehicle, exposing six leather seats, two televisions, a stocked bar and a small ice dispenser.

I pulled a headset over my ears
as Kyle explained that this model was for private charter customers.  Bigwig executives would use them to fly back and forth between meetings.

Judging by the small armada back at the golf course, they were also the preferred method of travel to escape the end of the world...in style.
What took Kyle and me days of horrific fights and battles to accomplish, they did in hours by simply flying over the horror down below.

Looking at all the buttons, knobs
, and dials in the instrument panel, I recognized one to be a gas gauge.  It was completely full; I asked through the microphone on my headset about how far that would get us.

He told me that typically these twin engines would go between
400 and 500 miles on a full tank.  The navigation system in the panel told us that we were less than 400 miles from the Blue Ridge Mountains, and more importantly, the cabin address that Jenn gave me via voice mail.

He continued explaining that we’d be there in around two and a half hours, assuming nothing catastrophic went wrong.
Thinking through the events of the past days, I clinched my teeth realizing that catastrophe seemed to be the norm.

However, maybe i
t was our turn to take a short cut.

Looking out the window,
letting my mind fall to ease, I felt a sigh of relief shoot through my body. Not long now, before I’d make it back to her.

Just 400 miles to go.

Crawling into the rear cabin, I grabbed a small emergency kit and two cups of ice. My shoulder was still bleeding. I patched it up the best I could and handed a make shift bandage to Kyle to apply to his chest as well.

Reaching into the bag that I had grabbed from the Hummer, I pulled two bottles of water out and poured them into the cups of ice. Kyle reached up with his glass.

“To your wife and kid. We’re almost there.”

I met his glass with mine, and said, “Cheers!”

We both chugged our glasses in one gulp. I had not had an ice-cold beverage in days, and the cool liquid really hit the spot. It’s amazing what we took for granted before our lives fell apart.

The metal briefcase in the backpack caught my eye, so I reached down and pulled it onto my lap.

“Finally going to find out what he kept in that thing, huh?  What do you think? Tons of cash, gold?” Kyle asked.

With a shrug, I tried the latches on either side of the case. Both were unlocked, and it flipped right open.

Grinning at Kyle, I said, “I guess we’re going to find out.”

I slowly opened the top of the case to discover it was almost empty, except for three small items. The first was a picture, still in the frame, of fake Michael with his wife and son. I
set it back down in the case with the realization that they were all now dead.  It hit me like a shot to the gut.

The second item was his wallet. Devoid of cash, it contained his real ID.  I pulled the driver’s license from the leather pocket and lifted it up toward a light in the cockpit. I read the name out loud.

“Leonard E. Daniels.” Kyle and I both paused.

“Funny,” he murmured with an odd expression. “I wouldn’t have guessed Leonard.
Would you?”

“No, I guess not
,” I replied.

Setting the wallet down, I picked up the final item.  It was rolling around in the back of the case. Lifting it up to the light, it dawned on me what it was. A three inch, blood covered pen. The very pen that Leonard had used to kill Michael Hoskins.

I sat there, crouched in my seat, playing back the events leading up to Avalon. So many people had died horribly, some innocent, some not…some more than deserving.   Leonard was really nothing more than a by-product of a society built on greed.  His lies and deceit felt more like the desperation of a man, who had lost everything of meaning in the blink of an eye. Once he had nothing to lose, he had simply decided that it was his turn to be at the top.

With the price he paid, I found it hard to blame him for his actions.  My anger falling to the side, I rubbed my eyes and looked down at the metal case
, knowing we would all eventually have to pay for our sins.

I had flown at night many times. It was usually by plane, but the view was always the same from the sky. When the world was still alive, all you could see was light. Headlights flowing down rivers of brightly lit streets. Buildings filled with lights that were left on while the night janitors toiled in their quiet work.

Now, light was shadowed by the dark cloak of the dead.

Crossing into
Georgia air space, Kyle alerted me that we were getting close. Dawn was approaching in a couple of hours, and the navigation estimated that we’d be at the cabin in roughly thirty-three minutes. He looked over at me, the events of the past days showing. The glow of the instrument panel revealed his red rimmed eyes from lack of sleep. Still, there was a determination on his face.  Kyle was going to get us to my wife.

“I’m not sure what we’ll be getting into once we hit the cabin
.” He spoke softly, his voice slightly hoarse.

“I know,” I replied
, rubbing my sweaty palms on my pants.

“
Is there a lighter in the emergency kit?” he asked as if to take my mind off of it.

I reached behind my seat where I had discarded the kit and lifted it in to my lap.
Flipping over the plastic cover, I rummaged through the gauze and bandages until I found a small orange cylinder. Pulling it from the kit, I replied,

“
No, but looks like we’ve got a set of waterproof matches.”

“Good
, that will do. Now, how many bottles of liquor do we have back in that mini-bar?” he asked. Glancing back, I saw various types of dark and light liquors held in place by small hooks.

“Looks to be six.”

Seeing where he was heading with this, I unbuckled my seat harness and pulled myself back into the cabin saying, “I’ll get started.”

Taking a white custom embroidered blanket, I tore six strips from it, and started to tuck them into the heads of the bottles. With that, we had ourselves six Molotov cocktail bombs.

Returning to my seat, I asked if he had any other ideas.  He shook his head, squinting at the gun.

“How many rounds do we have left?”

“None. I used the last of the bullets back at the airstrip. I’ve got my hammer though,” I replied. Kyle thought for a moment.

“Hopefully, we won’t need to use any of it.”

Looking back out at the darkness, I pressed my head against the window and whispered,

“Hopefully.”

Any plan we’d come up with would be shit, but then again, so were the circumstances.

It was easy to find the address that Jenn had given us. Flying just beyond an open pasture field, we came across the cabin. The moonlight revealed a quaint two-story structure with a deck that overlooked a steep hill and a view of the mountains that most people would have killed for.

As we flew over the tree line, the house stood high with what appeared to be tall
swaying bushes surrounding the base of the structure. Hovering closer and closer to the ground, I watched as the forest spun into a wild dance from the whirlwind of the helicopter.  My eyes fixed on the bushes.  They were not flapping around.  They were slowly shifting back and forth.  Closer still, and as the spotlight illuminated the cabin, I squinted, rubbing my eyes, adjusting to the image. This couldn’t be possible.  It was worse than I’d ever imagined.

There were no bushes
.  The entire place was surrounded.  There were at least fifty creatures piling on top of each other on every wall, clawing at the wooden logs holding the place together.

A chill drilled deep into my bones. The downstairs windows were broken in.  We could see mangled shadows shifting around inside.

We hovered above the home, watching the zombies under the spotlight as they stopped to look up at the chopper, as it slowly hovered around the dwelling. One hundred red eyes staring back at us. My heart sank into my stomach.

Just as I started to feel all hope
slip away, Kyle asked in a slightly disillusioned tone,

“What are they after?”

“Huh?” I was only partially listening, the question entering the furthest corner of my mind as I stared out the window, feeling rage beginning to swell. Was I was too late, not being there for them when they needed me the most? Had I had failed them?

“
Seriously,” Kyle said louder, snapping me out of my daze. “What are they after? The Zs...why would they be surrounding this house in such force?”

I lifted my head up
. Feeling a jolt of hope, I realized that levelheaded Kyle was right. The Zs didn’t chase the dead.

Slapping my
hands up on the window, I exclaimed, “Somebody must be in the cabin. Jenn must be alive!”  Had the helicopter not shifted in the air at that moment, I might have released my harness and jumped out to see for myself. As we continued to circle around the front of the cabin again, watching for any sign of life, Kyle pointed out a white bed sheet hanging out of a window on the top floor, fluttering in the wind created by the chopper. It was the only movement up there.

I looked wildly at Kyle, my voice in a panic
. “We have to get me in there. I have to know!”

Nodding in agreement, w
e began discussing options, such as dropping me onto the roof, but that did not provide a way out. Being a charter helicopter, there was no ladder or rope to drop down. We also talked about trying to land on the roof, but the pitch was too steep, too much of an angle to be safe.

Ultimately, we decided that we needed to lure the zombies away from the home. The trick would be distracting them long enough to get inside, and back out again.
Any plan we could come up with would be shit, but then again, so were the circumstances.

“I have to get into the cabin. I’ll have to do it
alone,” I said to Kyle. He knew I was right; we needed him to fly the helicopter.

“What are you going to do to get out?”

“Whatever I have to,” I replied shoving my fist into my hand, punctuating each word. “Every step of the way.”

He nodded with a grin, reached over and extended his hand.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said strongly.

I took his hand.  It reminded me of the moment we had first met. I felt like it might be the last hand that I’d ever shake. What better person, aside from my wife, to share my last moments with.

Setting the plan in motion, Kyle navigated the helicopter over the house while I reached down and hit a switch on the instrument panel, turning on the external speakers.  Using what we’d learned from the crazies back in the neighborhood, I then pushed a button marked, “ALERT.”

An ear-piercing siren screeched from the crackling speakers sitting below the cockpit of the craft. All at once, the zombies stopped clawing at the walls of the cabin, and reached their arms up towards the sound.

“That’s got their attention!” Kyle whooped through the headset. I gave him thumbs up as he started to maneuver the helicopter backward slowly.

Like the Pied Piper of the undead, we drew the creatures away from the house, easing them toward the pasture.

Peering out the side window, I watched the long grass flatten in the wind from the chopper blades as we started to descend toward the dark earth. The siren was still blaring as the runners hit the ground with a thump. Kyle looked intently at me.