We flew for an hour, everyone given the same task: search for herds. I kept the plane three thousand feet off the ground so that any herds would be easier to spot. Bill nervously chattered, his voice cutting over the music. Once I threated to pull the plug on his headset, he was a better passenger.
The air was smooth and cool, and the sky was clear. It was an absolutely perfect flying day, and I found myself feeling lighter and breathing easier. There was something surreal about being in the sky, removed from the death and destruction below. It was the only time I could still feel completely at peace. After all, the sky was the only place left without man-eating predators.
“There’s one! Down there, below!” Bill exclaimed.
“Down where?” I cranked my head around to see him pointing out the window to my right. I looked, searching for zeds. My gaze narrowed on a field of dirt that seemed to go on forever in the distance, and I turned the plane in that direction. As we approached, the dirt morphed into what looked like a giant, flat anthill. Chills covered my body because this was no anthill.
“Holy bejeezus,” Jase said. “That’s no herd. That’s…that’s…”
“Fuck,” Clutch muttered.
“Yeah,” I added, my jaws lax. As we drew closer, the movement began to split into individual humanoid shapes all moving together like fans at a music concert, only far bigger than any concert or sporting event could be. The herd was larger than I could’ve possibly imagined. Hell had opened up and spurted forth millions of demons from its gorge.
“I told you guys these herds were huge. And it looks like another one in the distance out there,” Bill said from the backseat. “Now that you’ve seen it, can we check on my family?”
“Hold on,” I said, as I continued to stare at the mass of zeds below us.
“I wasn’t expecting a herd like that,” Jase said. “What could we possibly do if it found the park?”
After a tense moment of silence, I pulled off to return to our flight path.
A heavy stone was already growing in my gut. I found it hard to breathe, and my chest pounded like I was about to have a heart attack. I could already guess their trajectory from seeing the relatively straight trodden path over a half-mile wide that went on for as far as I could see. Camp Fox didn’t stand a chance.
As I flew north, parallel to the zed path, Clutch continually updated the map while muttering under his breath every few seconds. The herd had crushed all the grass and fields in its path. We lost the path a couple times when we flew over larger towns, but quickly found the path again on the other side.
“God,” I sighed. “There’s another one.”
Clutch looked up and followed my finger. “Jesus.”
Another herd, at least half the size of the first, looked like it was only thirty miles or so behind and headed the same direction.
“I’ll mark it down,” Clutch said as I tried to stay focused on my heading, but my eyes kept darting back to the herd. Worse, not ten miles later, another herd appeared in the distance.
“How can there be so many?” Jase asked from the backseat.
No one answered. In fact, no one spoke for many long minutes. I gripped the yoke and twisted my hands around it. Clutch scribbled on the map. I couldn’t tell what Jase and Bill were doing behind me. My mind was too busy dealing with shock. I didn’t need to be an actuary to do the math. There was nothing we could do to defend Camp Fox against such numbers.
We were absolutely, completely fucked.
My brows furrowed as I held back a sob. The unfairness of it all pissed me off. We worked so hard to survive. We’d finally gotten to the point where we felt a step ahead of the zeds.
And now this?
Like Manny’s group, we could only run, but where could we go? The massive herds seemed to cover an entire line of latitude as they moved south.
Bill lunged forward and pointed straight ahead. “There,” he said, wagging his finger. “See that? The university is coming up.”
I jumped, startled. “Get buckled in!”
“It’s SMSU. We’re there,” he said, not moving.
I squinted and made out the connected buildings. We were still at least five miles out and I throttled back to slow the plane and descend. “All right, guys. Keep an eye out for zeds.”
“They would’ve all left with the herds,” Bill said.
“Do you know that for sure?” I countered, adding in flaps to slow the plane to near stall speed.
He said nothing.
I sighed. “Where’s that street I can land on, Bill?”
He leaned forward more. “Birch Street,” he said as if I could read street signs from up here. “It’s just to the south of the dorms. We kept it clear in case we had to pull out.”
“It’s east-west, right?” I asked, looking once more at his roughly drawn map.
“What?”
I made a motion with my hand. “Does the road go north and south or east and west?”
“Oh, east and west. You can’t miss it. It’s the main street for the university.”
As we neared the small university, I slowed the plane and dropped in as much flaps as I could without stalling. Once I had the street in sight, I nodded. “I’ve got it.”
I frowned as I took in the university. During a typical scouting run, zeds dotted streets of any town I flew over. Here, other than the random zed crawling across the ground or a rotting corpse, I saw nothing. The entire university seemed devoid of zeds. “You guys see anything?” I asked.
“Nothing yet. Just a few stragglers,” Jase said.
“Same here,” Clutch said. “From what I can tell, those stragglers look pretty decrepit.”
“You’re going past the street. Down there! Down there!”
I flipped off the intercom but could still hear Bill’s yelling even through my headset. The street was narrow, only two lanes lined with trees and streetlamps. It had a ninety-degree curve on the eastern edge and a forty-five on the west. I could make it work, but there wasn’t much room for error, and no room for a late-decision go-around.
Clutch squeezed my knee, and I turned. “You sure you want to try it?” he yelled since I’d turned off the intercom.
I looked back down at the street. I had to make the call. If I continued to circle, the engine noise would draw all remaining zeds into the area. I glanced at Bill. His eyes were wide and pleading. It would’ve been easy to fly over and drop a bag, letting the survivors make their way to their families and friends on their own. But, if I were in Bill’s shoes, this close to my family…
“Damn it,” I muttered and dropped in the rest of the flaps. There was no way I couldn’t not land. I may have lost my parents, but if it was Clutch or Jase down there, I would have to see for myself. Bill deserved the same.
I lined up for a long final approach. I wanted to land as short as possible because neither the length nor the width of the street was forgiving for a botched landing. My grip was firm on the yoke. I had to get it right. The stall warning sounded, and the ground came up quickly. The wheels hit hard. The plane bounced before settling down. I stepped on the brakes to stop faster than I could with a taildragger.
I pulled off my headset and looked around to find no zeds running out to greet us. I bit my lip. “Well, that wasn’t my finest landing.”
“We didn’t crash, so I consider it a success,” Clutch said.