RIZEN: Tales of the Zombie Apocalypse (4 page)

Richard drove straight through the remainder of the
day, all the while scouring the airwaves for any hopeful signs of life or
cities that may have survived the plague unscathed.  There were none.  

The final broadcast he was able to tune into was a
60-second loop of an angry preacher who explained that the dead were rising
from their graves because America had become a depraved, homosexual nation that
needed to be cleansed. 

It was just a bit before dusk when the RV’s tires
left the paved road and rolled into the sand.  They had made it.  An incredible
distance in 2 days, and yet, not one single living soul was ever directly
encountered on the roads.  Richard felt the tears begin to well up in his eyes
again, when Andrea began to shriek.

“RICHARD!!!”  Andrea thrashed about in the back of
the RV.  She’d been coughing up so much blood that most of the mattress was now
covered in a crimson spray.  She screamed in agony.  “IT HURTS!  RICHARD, IT
HURTS!”

Richard knelt down beside her and placed a hand on
her forehead.  She was so hot that it almost hurt the palm of his hand.  Her
eyes were dark and sunken and there were black veins spider-webbing out from
the wound in her arm, all the way up her shoulder and neck. 

“Richard,” she spoke through gritted teeth, “don’t
let me come back.  Promise me.  Please Richard.  Please.”

“It’s okay, honey,” Richard whispered gently in her
ear.  “We’re here.”

Richard gently lifted her from the bed and carried
her from the RV out towards the waves that lapped lazily against the shore.

The sky was a brilliant pink and orange as the
setting sun embraced the ocean’s endless horizon.

Richard trudged slowly into the waves, clutching
Andrea close to him.  As the cool water flowed around them, Andrea’s eyes
opened and she stared out at the sun as it quietly descended into the ocean.

Richard brushed the hair from her face and just
watched in awe as those beautiful eyes seemed to light up and sparkle just like
the first time he saw them across a crowded room.  He leaned down, and gave her
a gentle kiss on the forehead.

Andrea turned her face to Richard’s, and as the
tears began to fall, she began to smile.  “I’m ready.” 

Richard began to weep openly as their fingers
entwined.

“I love you, Richard.”

“I love you too, Andrea.”

Richard then leaned down and softly pressed his lips
to hers one last time.

A flock of birds soared gracefully overhead in
perfect symmetry, but scattered in a dozen directions as the gunshot
reverberated loudly into the distance.

Richard then carefully laid his love down into the
rolling waves until the tide took her from his arms.  He stood in the surging
waters and watched as the current carried her out to sea.

A sudden wave sent Richard tumbling backwards.  His
knees gave out and he collapsed into the muddy sand, the water lapping at his
chest.  He just sat there and watched Andrea’s form as it drifted further and
further into the distance.  Eventually she was so small, that she was merely a
dot on the horizon, disappearing at the place where the water met the last rays
of the setting sun.

A second shot rang out and Richard joined his wife
in eternity.

“Air Thailand 124 to LAX.  Requesting ambulance to runway 7 for arrival at 1900
hours.”

Mike was half asleep, nearing the end of his shift
and watching the dancing dots of light on the radar screen, when his ears
perked up at the word “ambulance.”  He adjusted his headset, and spoke clearly
into the microphone, “This is LAX.  Air Thai 124. Please repeat request.”

“Air Thailand 124 to LAX,” the transmission crackled
in Mike’s headset. “I repeat.  Requesting ambulance to runway 7 for arrival at
1900 hours.  Over.”

Mike was wide awake now.  He figured it was just
someone with chest pains, but keeping people safe was the point of Air Traffic
Controllers.  Mike spoke slowly into the headset, “Captain, please ID. Over.”

“Roger, Roger,” the headset chirped back, and
immediately a wide smile spread across Mike’s face. 

“I thought that sounded like you, Roger,” Mike said
with a grin.  “You know you have the worst name for pilot I’ve ever heard,
right?”

“Sorry Mike,” Roger replied laughingly through the
headset.  “Met a pilot outta Newfoundland.  Last name Deadmen.  Had to advise
him to use his first name only when talking to the passengers and crew.”

Mike laughed heartily until his eyes began to
water.  He’d known Roger since WAY back. They’d actually met in flight school. 
They’d flown together on many training runs, had a fair number of drunken
nights together prowling the town for young, eligible bachelorettes on their
nights off, and even ended up as roommates for a year of their lives.

Mike had trained for 2 years to be a pilot, but when
he had a seizure, that was it.  Only takes one of those and you’re out of pilot
school for good.  It was really hard at the time, as all Mike had ever wanted
was to fly above the clouds, but he was dedicated to his passion, and after a
few months of contemplating his future, he went back to flight school, only
THIS time, he studied to be an air traffic controller. 

Mike had been given a nice promotion just a few years
back after helping to land a plane without landing gear.  That one had been the
nail biter of the century, but when all was said and done, there were only a
few minor injuries and not a single death. 

No fatalities. This was Mike’s greatest
accomplishment.  He’d gotten every last flight safely to the earth, and every
last passenger that had yet been under his watch, made it safe to their
destinations.

Mike spoke into his headset, “Roger, feel free to
cut the code words.  Lay it out for me.  What are we looking at here?  Heart
attack?”

“Don’t think so, Mike.  Think it might be food
poisoning, or possibly a severe case of the flu.  He’s been vomiting blood
though.  Seems serious.  Thought about diverting for a minute there, but
figured the most I could shave off was a couple minutes, and honestly, LAX has
their emergency staff trained better than most, and also, I couldn’t hit LA
without getting a drink with an old friend.”

Mike laughed.  “Roger that!”

Roger’s laughter erupted over the headset.

Mike took on a more serious tone, “Roger, you keep
me informed if anything else goes wrong.  Ambulance will meet you on the tarmac
at 1900.  Over and out.”

Mike put in a call to the emergency response team,
and then went to the break room to get a coffee.  Roger was in for the night
after this flight, and according to his schedule wasn’t back behind the stick
till tomorrow afternoon.  Mike eyeballed the clock on the wall.

He hadn’t seen Roger since he married that pretty
little thing he’d met in South Korea 2 years ago.  They were in love.  That
much was plain to everyone at the wedding.  Roger ended up moving to South
Korea to live with her, and now other than picking him up in the chatter, or
the occasional email, they almost never spoke.

Mike had just picked up a slightly dodgy looking cruller
from that morning’s doughnut box, when his co-controller came barging into the
room.

“Sir, we’ve got problems with Air Thai 124.”

Mike pitched the remainder of his coffee break in
the trash as he sprinted out onto the main traffic controller floor.  He slid
into his command chair, popped on his headset, and began speaking immediately. 

“Air Thai 124, this is LAX, what’s your status?”

“LAX, this Air Thailand.  We’ve got a possible
contagion aboard this flight.  Requesting CDC quarantine protocol 12 be implemented. 
Need all available medical personnel on deck at 1900 hours.”

The blood ran out of Mike’s face when he heard the
word “quarantine.”  He spoke slowly into his headset “Roger, what’s the
situation?”

“I have locked myself inside the cockpit and am
flying solo.  I’ve enforced quarantine protocol 12.”

“Roger,” Mike said with a shaking in his voice, “did
you say you are flying solo?”

“Roger that.  Co-pilot left the cockpit, the
situation evolved very rapidly, and I had to protect myself from the possible
contamination to prevent loss of aircraft control.”

Mike’s mouth went dry as he tried to formulate a
reply.  “Roger, you locked the co-pilot out of the cockpit?  What the hell is
going on up there?”

“Mike, if you could see what I can on the cabin’s video
feed, you’d have done the same.  Right after I got off the line with you, the
co-pilot went back to check on the flight attendants and our sick passenger. 
When he didn’t come back, I flipped on the cabin monitor and there must have
been a dozen or more people trying to hold down the one sick passenger.  He
went feral.  Started biting and clawing the attendants and some of the
passengers.  They got him tied down eventually, but he’d managed to bite at
least half a dozen people, including the co-pilot.  Within minutes, the people
who were bitten were already visibly ill.  They were sweating profusely, and
some seemed to be hallucinating, not even knowing where they were anymore.  Two
of the attendants that weren’t injured filled me in on the rest over the
intercom.  We’ve got something bad on here, Mike.  Something real bad.  We’re
pretty sure it’s airborne.  A number of other passengers are showing the same
symptoms now, and they weren’t even NEAR the sick passenger.  We’re still 40
minutes out from LAX.  Advise course of action.  Over.”

“Roger, I need you to keep it nice and cool.  You’re
gonna land that plane, we’re gonna get those people help, and we’re gonna get
that drink.  And after a night like tonight, the drinks are on me.  I got a
pricey little bottle of Scotch I’ve been saving for a special occasion.  You
pull this off, and I’ll pour you a glass all the way to the brim.  You’re one
of the best pilots I’ve ever known, Roger.  You’re gonna get those people
through this.  You’re gonna get YOU through this.  Keep me informed as the situation
evolves.  Over and out.”

Mike ran his fingers through his hair and let out a
deep and shuddering breath.  Someone is infected, goes feral, infects others
including attendants and co-pilot, and even more passengers are infected that
didn’t even have contact with the first infected passenger.  Mike tried to get
all the pieces put together in some coherent form as he contacted the emergency
response teams, the local police, and the CDC.

Once all necessary contacts were made, he radioed
Flight 124 again.  “Roger, what’s your current status?”

“Mike,” Roger said with a strained and fearful tone,
“we’ve got more problems.  Jesus.  I…”

Mike sat at his console, hands gripping the desk
tightly as his friend was cut off by the sounds of loud banging and screaming.

“Roger,” Mike shouted into the headset. “What’s
going on up there?  Are they trying to rush the cockpit?”

“The attendants,” Roger said in a quiet voice. “They
demanded I let them in before they got sick.  Said I was killing them if I
didn’t let them in.  I told ‘em if I did, I could get sick and end up bringing
the whole plane down.  They just kept begging me to let them in, and I
wouldn’t.  And the passengers are all getting sick now. They’re all…  Jesus
Christ, Mike.  Their eyes.  They’re all bleeding from their God damned eyes. 
The passengers are going crazy.  A few of them started fighting one another. 
The attendants started ramming the drink cart against the door, trying to get
in, but it ain’t gonna work.  They reinforced the hell outta these sons of
bitches.  But still…  I don’t want to leave ‘em out there, Mike.  They don’t
look sick yet like the rest of ‘em do.  Christ.  I don’t want kill anybody.”

“Roger,” Mike said very calmly, and with as much
control as he could muster, “you’re not killing ANYBODY.  If these folks are
sick, it’s up to you to get them safe to the ground so we can get them the help
that they need.  You’re gonna save these folks, Roger.  You’re gonna save them
all.  You just gotta keep calm, and get that plane safely on the tarmac.  Can
you do that?”

“Yeah.  20 minutes out.  I’m gonna get this plane
landed.  Gonna get that drink with you.  Gonna finally take you out to our new
place in Seoul.  She’s the best damn cook I’ve ever known.  She’s gonna make
you some spicy pho’ that’ll knock the wind outta ya.  I can’t stop eatin’ the
stuff.  You’re hardly gonna recognize me, man.  I’ve put on a bit of the old
marriage gut since the wedding.”

Good, Mike thought.  Keeping him calm.  Getting his
mind off the bad stuff.  Focusing him on the landing.  He was going to get him
down yet. 

“Mike, did I tell you?  Mi-Yung’s pregnant.  Just
found out last week.  We were going to keep it a secret until we hit the 1st
trimester, but hey, you’re not going to tell anyone, right?”  Roger began
laughing but was cut off by the sounds of more screaming and an even more
determined smashing of the cockpit door.

“Roger?”

“Oh God,” Roger’s voice whispered over the headset. 
“No.  No, no, no, no, no.”

“Roger, what’s happening buddy?”

“Aw, fuck me,” Roger said gasping and sobbing. 
“They’re killing each other.  They just tearing each other apart, Mike.”

“Roger,” Mike shouted into the headset, “I need full
details of what’s going on up there.”

“The little ones.  There’s all kinds of little ones.
 Babies.  Mike.  They’re tearing the babies apart.  Why would they do that?”

Mike just sat at his control panel in stunned
silence as he heard his fearless friend openly weeping through the intercom as
screams grew louder and the frenzy of crashes grew louder and came faster and
faster.

“I’M SORRY,” Roger screamed.  “I want to let you
in.  I do.  But you’re both sick.  I can see it in your eyes.  You’re sick! 
STOP IT!  STOP IT, GODDAMN IT!!!”

“Roger,” Mike said clearly and with full authority,
“I need you COOL up there!  Close it all out of your head.  You’re only 10
minutes out, buddy.  If you can keep your head, we’re going to save as many of
those people as we can.”

“Mike,” Roger’s voice crackled faintly through the
headset.  “I don’t think we can be saved.  They’re killing the attendants.
They’re eating ‘em, Mike.  Just ripping the flesh from their bones.”

Mike felt his stomach twisting in knots as he
listened to the pilot breaking down over the radio. 

“I don’t think we were meant to land.  Still got
some beautiful blue water out here for a couple more miles.  Thinking about
taking her down.  What do you think, Mike?”

“NO!  Roger, you listen to me, and you listen good. 
You may still have survivors on that plane, and I’ll be damned if I’m going let
you scuttle that airliner.  Now you answer me, Roger.   Are there any
passengers or crew still alive?”

“Yeah,” Roger spoke in a frightened whisper.  “I
can’t see ‘em anymore, but they’re out there still.  Earlier though, I saw a
woman and her two daughters lock themselves inside one of bathroom stalls.”

“Roger, what do you mean you can’t see them?”

“Blood all over the camera lens.  Just red.  Can see
moving shapes, but that’s about it.  Don’t make any sense.  Got blood in my
eyes too.  Not sure how it got there.”

Mike then muted his headset, picked up the red
phone, and spoke slowly and mechanically, “Pilot has become infected.  Prepare
landing site for emergency crash landing.”   

“Mike?”

Mike clicked his headset microphone back on.  “Yeah
buddy?”

“Mike, is Mi-Yung there with you?  Can you tell her
something for me?  Tell her I love her.  Tell her I love her so damn much.  And
my new baby.  Oh, Jesus.  Tell her…”

“Tell her yourself, Roger.  You’re only a few
minutes out.  I know you’re not feeling all there right now, but if you can get
this plane down, we can get you help!”

“I can do it.  I can land this.  Just need to
concentrate.  See you on the ground, Mike.”

And with that, the line went dead.

“Roger,” Mike shouted into the headset.  “Roger, do
you read me?  Roger?!?”

“Sir,” one of the other air traffic controllers said
nervously. “It’s General Eraster from the Air Force.  They’re asking for
verification of the pilot’s death.  They want to shoot the plane down before it
crashes in a populated area.”

“No,” Mike said curtly.  “He’s got this.  He’s
landing the plane.  Tell them the pilot’s fine.  Tell them to stand down.”