Kyle pointed toward the bottom of the chopper. There was a creature pulling itself up on the landing gear. In an instant, it clutched onto Chauffer’s leg, and pulled him from the craft. He fell at least thirty feet, and landed in a sand trap, a cloud of white sand shooting into the air. The helicopter didn’t bother to pause, and headed off into the starlight.
I started toward one of the helicopters on the ground. Kyle grabbed my arm, shaking his head in rapid little jerks.
“Not that one,” he blurted, turning to point toward another. “That’s a twin engine. They fly farther than single engines.”
He threw the machine gun to me as he dove into the cockpit, then shouted,
“Remember what I showed you!”
I took a deep breath, paused to feel the night sky, and lifted the weapon to steady it on the oncoming creatures. My arms were shaking so hard from exertion that I wasn’t sure I could even keep the gun still. Waiting until I could see them clearly, I fired the weapon. The first one dropped, with a round to the chest, and then stumbled to its feet. My shoulder, once numb from the impalement, was now a fiery agony. I had to take several breaths just to get my bearings. I took another shot; its head snapped back as it fell to the ground for good.
Above me, the helicopter blades began to turn slowly. Three more shots, three more zombies polished off. But it wasn’t enough. Moving faster than I could shoot, they were upon me. Throwing the gun to the ground, I pulled my hammer out and crouched down, preparing myself for the onslaught. I had to buy us just a little more time.
Smashing the first with a swing across its jaw, it slid to the grass only to leap back up and spin around towards me. I gave it my all but it didn’t seem to be enough. I was wearing down faster than the zombies were. My arms and legs felt as if they were made of lead. They were sluggish, not listening to my brain.
I was on my back fighting the monster off, when Kyle jumped from the chopper. He tumbled along the greenway and then came up on his feet, pulling a flag from one of the golf holes. He charged at the zombie trying to take my life and drove it through the creature’s mouth. As it fell, it dragged Kyle down as well. I could hardly get back on my feet, but there were four more approaching. I picked the gun back up, feeling its weight. On adrenaline only, I discharged the weapon. All four zombies dropped, for good.
Kyle jogged over to me. The helicopter blades were swinging at full speed, spitting up tiny bits of debris, stinging my face. He motioned toward the sand trap that Chauffer fell into. With our shoulders heaving in unison, we edged over to peek in. Covered in wet sand, he looked up at us; he was still alive but unable to move. The creature had landed several feet from him though, and was crawling toward his mangled body.
“Help… me…,” came his weak, barely audible plea.
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 toward 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.
Chapter 28
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 voicemail.
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 it was our turn to take a shortcut.
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 makeshift 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 about to find out.”
I slowly opened the top of the case to discover that 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.