There is a long pause with no response from Arifjan. I see the lights of a seemingly small city stretching off our nose as we continue our descent. “Arifjan, Otter 39. Confirm lights are on.”
“Otter 39, um, Arifjan. Roger. Lights are on.”
“Roger that Arifjan. There wouldn’t happen to be a Sergeant Connell with you would there?”
Complete silence ensues on both ends of the radio. On my side, it is awaiting a final word and verdict. On Lynn’s side, there is a sense of unrealness as all eyes turn and center on Lynn.
“Do you know who this is?” Bannerman asks with his eyes wide in bewilderment.
“I may, sir,” Lynn responds amidst the crackle of gunfire outside.
“Talk to him then,” Bannerman says.
Lynn takes the mic, “Otter 39, this is Arifjan,” she says with her voice cracking slightly.
I hear the response over the radio with sense of incredibility. I look over at Robert, Nic, Bri, and Michelle. They continue to look at me with a measure of unbelief; that we are talking to someone, that there is, in fact, someone at our destination, and that it may actually be Lynn.
“Oh my god! Lynn?” I say over the radio.
“Jack?” Lynn responds.
Descending close to the airport, I see the runway lighting offset from the light emitting from the camp itself in a seemingly small town aspect; streetlights set in small rectangular patterns with smaller lights set in amongst these lights.
“Yeah, babe. What’s your situation?” I ask worried over the sound of gunfire on the radio responses.
“Standby,” Lynn responds and walks over to the door and outside peering over the walkway railing.
She sees creatures climbing unrelentingly on the side of the stairway leading upward. Bodies line the landing just below her position as the soldiers she placed there are firing down on those who have managed to reach the landing. A horde of creatures line the perimeter awaiting room on the stairs; the things completely encompass the stairway structure. She looks to the soldiers firing on the walkway to see their wide eyes as they fire downward on the ever encroaching mass. Their eyes depict an emotion that their life here is only a matter of time but determining to exact what they can.
Walking back inside, she calmly walks to the radio, and picks up the mic, “Jack, it doesn’t look good. We’re in the tower. They’re scaling the tower and their overrunning the top is only a matter of time.”
“Roger that. Hold on as best as you can. I’ll be there in five.” I say in response.
I set up an overhead assault pattern minimizing my time in the air and descend rapidly to the airfield; the runway lights are 1,000 feet below as I bank the aircraft over into a steep, left hand descending pattern. Rolling out on final, I glance over to the tower on my left at the far side of the ramp. Light flows from the tower out onto the ramp and is filled with flashes of gunfire from all vantages on the tower top. Give me just a few more minutes, I think rolling out of the turn and descending toward the green lights at the runway threshold with the white runway lights stretching away before me.
The strobe-like flashes echo off to the side of my vision as my landing lights pick up the threshold markings and they flash underneath. The first 500 foot markings stream by my window as I draw the power back and start my flare; the nose rising in response to my control inputs. The drone of the engines diminishes yet we remain airborne as the aircraft continues its instinct to remain aloft. Gravity overcomes the wants of the aircraft with a chirp and the aircraft settles as it transitions from a creature of the sky to one of the earth.
With the flashes of weapons still being fired in the distance to the left, I pull the prop levers back into reverse thrust. The aircraft responds with a reluctant, nose down attitude. Coming to the first taxiway onto the ramp, I come on the radio and say, “Lynn, standby. On my way. Pull your people in when I say and ready your people to exit ten at a time.”
“Roger that,” Lynn says and relays the info to Drescoll on the roof above her.
Pulling off the runway at high speed onto the taxiway at about midfield with the landing and taxi lights on, I see a multitude of creatures on the ramp and around the tower; many of them scaling the stair superstructure and close to the top. Bodies fall from the stairs only to be replaced by a multitude of others. I continue across the ramp slowing down slightly; a plan already coming to mind.
“Lynn, I’m going to clear your path for moments at a time, be ready for my signal.”
“Jack, we’ll be ready,” Lynn replies.
I drive the 130 directly at the tower with the kids all looking in askance as to what I am planning. The heads of the creatures turn in my direction, pausing in their assault of the tower to stare at the new intrusion into their environment. Whipping across the ramp, I pull close to the tower and turn a 180 in place coming to a stop.
“Robert, I’m going to the back and ready the ramp. I’ll plug into the intercom in back. When I signal, hold the brakes and rev up to full power. Hold onto those brakes tightly. Nic, you’re with me.”
Unplugging and unstrapping, I head to the rear along the aisle. Reaching the back, I plug into the intercom to hear Robert’s heavy breathing. “Robert, how do you read?” I ask.
“I hear you,” he says in slightly exhilarated voice.
“Lowering the ramp,” I say.
The ramp descends revealing the ramp outside by slow increments. As it reaches the tarmac, I see the horde of creatures encompassing the tower and the strobe flashes from the top as the soldiers attempt to fend them off.
“Okay, Robert, tell the tower to pull in and prepare their first ten.”
As the soldiers all rush into the tower I tell Robert, “Power up now.”
I hear the engines begin their throaty roar as they are brought up to max. The thrust powers the wind to hurricane force levels to the rear. At first, it just propels the creatures on the outside and railings forward and then it lifts them from their feet. As the power increases, they are thrust away from and over the fence beyond. Many of them become pinned against the far chain link fence as the wind from the propellers pushes them to and then almost through it. The stair structure is swept clean of the creatures.
“Tell them to go now!” I shout into the intercom to Robert.
I see several soldiers in fatigues emerge from the tower and tell Robert to bring the throttle back to half. The soldiers fight their way down the stairs against the wind and drop the final ten feet to the ground. The wind whips their fatigues as they come to rest against the containers supporting the tower.
“Power back now Robert.”
The vibration of the aircraft decreases as Roberts draws the power back. I see the soldiers recover and begin running toward the aircraft. As far as the extension cord of the intercom allows, I walk down the ramp to cover the soldiers’ extraction, covering the sides as they head over the now downed fence, across the small distance of the ramp, and up into the aircraft. As they pass by, I grab four and point them to cover the sides of the aircraft; two to each side of the ramp and advise them not to step out from behind the aircraft.
I then tell Robert, “Power up again and tell them to ready the next ten.”
The wind and vibrations increase as the engines increase their thrust and wind velocity to the rear; the wind catches the creatures just recovering from the last hurricane force and throws them against the fence once again. Those not caught in the fence are blown into the desert beyond.
I call on the intercom over the sound of the engines, “Tell them to send the next ten and power back to half.”
As the next ten soldiers make their way down the stairs, I see the ones placed on the edges of the ramp open up. A quick glance and, in the glare of the landing lights, I see several creatures on the pavement at the wingtips. Bringing my own M-4 up, I sight and fire single bursts but without effect toward the creatures attempting to close. The rounds of the other soldiers are also not having any telling effect.