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Authors: Jason Kristopher

Tags: #Horror

The Dying of the Light: Interval (47 page)

BOOK: The Dying of the Light: Interval
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Anderson glanced at Gaines. “We never heard anything conclusive about Russian bunkers like ours, just rumors.”

She shrugged as well as she could tied to a tree. “It was a state secret. I should not be telling you, but I suppose now… it doesn’t matter.”

“Sure it does! If he’s in a bunker, then there’s a damn good chance he’s still alive—”

She shook her head. “
Nyet
. No, there is no chance. Your men have told me that the last the American military ever heard was that Russia was overrun. Millions of walkers coming from Eastern Europe and more from the south. I see no reason to doubt this information.”

No wonder she’s upset
, Anderson thought.
Her homeland is just… gone
.

“And so you were going to do what? Look for him?”

She nodded. “I was, yes. And I still have to.” She raised her chin defiantly. “What would you do for the person you love?”

Anderson thought about Morena and his unborn child, and couldn’t really blame her for wanting to be with her own family. He shook his head, then looked over at Sven. “You’ll keep her under control?”

Sven nodded, mute.

“Good. Then let her go.”

“What? Captain, please… she just
shot
you,” said Gaines.

“I know, I know,” Anderson replied. “But she’s right. Wouldn’t I have done the same for Morena? Wouldn’t you have done the same for Rachel?”

Gaines looked away for a moment, then turned back and nodded.

“Well, there you go, then. I’m not saying she’s perfect, and I’m not forgetting what she did anytime soon, but I do understand it.”

Tatiana sighed with relief when Sven let her go, rubbing her wrists and the small of her back. “Did you have to hit so hard with the door?”

He shrugged.

She twisted to get the kinks out. “So, what will you do with me now?”

Anderson thought for a moment, then smiled. “Well, I suppose we should gas up that G-4.” Everyone was as stunned as he had expected them to be, but he’d made his decision and that was that. “Just one thing. OK, two things. First, you can’t have Archer. We need him for the trip home.”

The Russian nodded. “That’s not a problem, Captain. I can fly the smaller plane.”

Sven glanced at her in surprise, then shrugged.

“What is your second condition?”

“You have to take anyone else who wants to go.”

Her eyes opened wide at that, and she very obviously didn’t look over at the Swede standing next to her. “I… that is… unexpected, Captain.”

“Have you talked to anyone else? I’m sure you can’t be the only Russian in the group.”

“No, I… I had not thought of that.”

“See that you do. Then report back to me when you have a list.”

She snapped off a salute, then began walking to the terminal, clearly excited. Anderson noticed that she was still holding tight to Sven’s hand as she did.
That’s odd
, he thought.
She’s clearly attached to Sven but still hunting for Vasily. How’s that going to go if she actually finds him? Well
,
I hope it works out for all of them, one way or the other
.

“Mahoney!” he yelled, turning with Gaines’ help. The young mechanic approached and stood at ease. “You all right?”

“Yes, sir,” said the chief. “Just a few bruises, sir.”

“Well, then what are you waiting around for? Get that Gulfstream fueled and ready to go, then finish the damn 767. This ain’t a pleasure cruise, chief!”

Mahoney grinned and saluted as well, climbing back into the truck and yelling through the window. “Want a lift to the terminal, sir?”

Anderson nodded and climbed into the cab, sitting stiffly against the backrest.

Gaines climbed into the bed behind them. “Onward, soldier,” he said to Mahoney. “Let’s get these people home.”

“Yes, sir!”

 

Several hours later, the Gulfstream had been fueled, and the survivors who’d chosen to go with Zavrazhny were onboard, along with the supplies the others could spare. Mahoney and his men had taken a break to say goodbye to the tall Russian woman, and the only thing that remained was for them to climb aboard and set out.

The goodbyes amongst the survivors had been particularly difficult and long, as those who were leaving had been a part of the tight-knit community for nearly ten years. Now, though none of them said it, they all knew the chances they would ever see each other again were nonexistent. Anderson and the other soldiers who weren’t on perimeter detail stood off to one side, keeping their thoughts to themselves, though it was clear that they were all thinking of home, wherever that might be.

Soon enough, all the goodbyes had been said, and Zavrazhny and Sven walked over to Anderson.

“All set?” Anderson asked.

“Yes, Captain. We have everything we need,” she answered.

“No last-minute requests? No one’s changed their mind?”

“No,” she said, glancing back at the waiting jet. “I was surprised when the Chinese decided to stay, but we have a crowded plane without them, with the Japanese and my own people. In any case, it is probably better that they go with you. It sounds like China is, for all purposes, gone now.”

“You have the communication codes?” Anderson asked.

Anderson had shared with the Russian and the Swede the procedures for contacting the defense satellites in orbit, in an effort to maintain contact between the groups.
We’re going to need to be able to talk to each other soon enough
, he thought.
Probably broke about fifty federal laws there, not that it matters anymore
.

“Yes, and we will try to use them as soon as we find the right equipment.”

“I guess that’s it, then,” he said, holding out a hand to Sven and wincing as the man’s strength tugged on his wound. He turned to shake hands with Tatiana, but she stepped in for a hug, a tear in her eye. “
Spasibo, moy drug. Ya tebya nikogda ne zabudu. Do sleduyushchey vstrechi. Proshchay
. Thank you, my friend. I will never forget you. Until we meet again. Farewell.” She stood back, and saluted.

Anderson returned it quickly, ignoring the pain in his wounded chest.

Gunny Rains would’ve been proud
, Gaines thought as he said goodbye to the both of them. Sven was one of the few men that Dalton Gaines could look eye-to-eye with, and as he shook the Swede’s hand he smiled. “Take care of her, bud. You never know what can happen. Trust me.”

Sven nodded gravely, then smiled back. “I will, Sergeant. Thank you for saving us,” he said, stepping back. “Thank you all.”

Moments later, the idling jet was closed and rolling down the taxiway, then turned onto the main runway. Anderson looked around, and he could see that nearly everyone had come out to wish the others well.
Word spread fast
, he thought, then turned back to wave along with the others. Zavrazhny wasted no time, and the jet blasted down the runway and was banking in to the northwest only a minute later.
Here’s hoping they make it
.

 

It took Mahoney and his men, working through the night, two more days to complete the repairs on the 767.

“The hardest part was all the storm damage,” he told Anderson as they looked over the repaired plane. “They get some pretty bad wind and storms here, apparently. Lots of debris damage, but the underlying structure was sound enough. She should be OK, at least enough to get us to Maui or Honolulu. If we can find a place to land there, I’d like to switch up for something not quite as beat up, but if not, then as long as we top her up she’ll get us home.”

“That’s not exactly a sterling recommendation,” said our sole remaining pilot, Colonel Archer. “Lots of ‘should’ in there, Mahoney.”

Anderson hid a grin as Mahoney grew red and his Irish ancestry came to the fore, along with his Boston accent. “Look, boyo, if I say she’ll fly, then she’ll fly!”

Archer held up a hand and apologized, mollifying the stocky mechanic. “I’m sorry, I’m just… well, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover. Or ocean, whatever. It’s a lot of pressure for both of us.”

Mahoney grumbled for a moment, then nodded. “Aye, that it is. Don’t worry, son. I’ll get us home.” He moved off to check on some last-minute work by one of his technicians, and Anderson glanced at the pilot.

“Why do you do that? You know it sets him off.”

“You just answered your own question, sir,” Archer said.

Anderson chuckled. “All right, get your crap onboard, will ya? I wanna be out of here ASAP.”

“You got it, sir.”

 

It took longer than Anderson had expected to load everyone into the plane, but there was plenty of room for the remaining survivors. He looked back through the passenger cabin as Archer began the startup sequence with the help of Gaines. Though exhausted from their ordeal, the survivors seemed to be in a reasonably good mood, and looking forward to their new lives in the AEGIS bunkers. Anderson stepped forward and raised his voice.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to Air AEGIS.” There was a spontaneous cheering, and he smiled. “Given the circumstances, we’re going to skip today’s safety briefing, because I’m sure you all know how to operate a seatbelt. Since we’ll be flying over a few thousand miles of open water over the next day or so, it would be a good idea to familiarize yourself with the lifejackets equipped on this particular aircraft. Also, take note of your nearest emergency exit, which may be behind you.” The survivors were laughing as they listened, and he was glad to hear it. “Now, please stow your tray tables and make sure your seat is in an upright and locked position for takeoff.”

He went up to the cockpit and took the jumpseat just behind the pilots. “Everything good up here?”

Archer nodded. “Yes, sir, Captain. Ready whenever you are.”

“Take us up, Mr. Archer.”

The plane taxied slowly toward the end of the runway, and Anderson took advantage of the view while he could. As the plane moved into position, he buckled into the seat, pulling the strap tight. Archer and Gaines pushed the throttles forward, and the plane began moving quickly down the runway, soon gaining enough lift to claw its way into the sky. A few minutes later, and they were on their way to Hawaii.

As they leveled out, Anderson unbuckled his harness and stood up, stretching. He glanced down as he looked back at the survivors, who were in good spirits, and grinned.

Speaking of spirits
… He looked at the assembled survivors as he unlocked and pulled the bar cart out of its place in the galley, verifying it was almost fully stocked. Raising his voice, he made sure it would carry to the back of the plane.

“Who wants a drink?”

Chapter Twenty-two

 

Dalton Gaines looked out over the rippling waters of Kahului Bay. Dusk was coming quickly, now that the sun had set. He didn’t relish flying at night, but it’s not like they had a lot of choice. Honolulu had been a bust, but they’d been more fortunate with Maui’s airports. Only one runway was clogged with debris, and the other was serviceable, if not in great shape.

A sparse walker presence had made for a quick clearing of the needed facilities, and they’d found fuel, though no planes that were any more serviceable than the one they were already on. Still, they’d had good luck. It was enough. It meant they’d be going home—at least, what was left of them.

Now he was in the cockpit of the 767, trying to connect with the satellites to reach
Rescue One
or any of the bunkers to communicate that they were about to be on their way. He’d been trying for the last hour while everyone else was either stretching their legs or catching what sleep they could—or, in the case of his fellow soldiers, keeping watch for any strays that might show up.

Suddenly the radio crackled, and a voice came through, interrupted by distortion and the satellite version of static. Although it was nearly incomprehensible, he thought he recognized the word AEGIS.

As soon as the transmission paused again., he said, “
AEGIS Rescue One
calling AEGIS Bunker One. Come in, Bunker One.”

Another pause, and another garbled transmission.

“Say again your last, Bunker One, I did not copy. Say again.”

The speakers squealed for a second, and Dalton winced as the sound cut through the cabin. “—epeat, this is Bunker One. It’s hard to talk right now—we are under attack.” A pause, and he heard someone yell in the background. “Get over there, then!”

“Roger that, Bunker One,” Dalton said. “What is your situation?”

A new voice came on the line, and Gaines recognized Daniel, the governor’s aide and husband. “Mr. Gaines, it’s good to hear your voice. Is Captain Anderson with you?”

“Yes, but he’s not here at the moment.”

“Are you all safe? And able to travel?”

“Yes, we’ve refueled and are about to head to LAX.”

“That’s good news. Mr. Blake and his team made it safely all the way to Bunker Seven. You’re to rendezvous with them there before coming here.”

“I’m having a hard time maintaining this link, Daniel. Can you pass on word to them that we’re on our way?”

The interruptions and garbling returned, and Gaines could tell Daniel was stressed. “I’ll try, but these attacks are nearly continuous. We’ll get them something as soon as we can. Good lu—” There was another squeal as the transmission cut out entirely, and Gaines finally gave up.

Time to find the captain,
he thought as he stood up and moved to the open cabin door, the mobile stairway parked beneath.
At least this time it’s good news. Kinda
.

 

Angel Fire Airport
Santa Fe, New Mexico

 

Just under seven hours later by our watches,
AEGIS
Rescue One
landed at the dry, desert airport near Bunker Seven in northern New Mexico. It had only been a few days, but to me it felt like much longer since I’d seen my friends, and since there had been a good chance I’d never see them again, it was something of an emotional reunion. At least for me.

I was waiting in the first Humvee in line when they rolled to a stop, and Reynolds and I were the first to jog over, with Colonel Shaw and Jennifer following at a somewhat slower pace. I clapped Gaines on the back and pulled him in for a hug, then moved on to Anderson who held up a hand. “Careful, son. I’m still healing.”

BOOK: The Dying of the Light: Interval
7.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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