The Common Cold (Book 1): A Zombie Chronicle (12 page)

Rob and Daniel walked as fast as they dared towards the
diplomat.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Rob hissed, angrily. “Didn’t
you notice we are the minority in here?”

“Rob,” Daniel said, pointing, “let’s get their guns and
ammo.”

Rob looked down, and realised the opportunity. His movements
slow and unhurried, he opened his back pack and handed Joe some aftershave.
“Spray yourself all over. No sudden or fast movements. They won’t be interested
in you if you don’t smell human.”

They knelt next to the hapless officers, and began denuding
them of their arms and ammo pouches. Janet and the kids had arrived next to
them.

“Danny, they’re looking at us,” Janet muttered.

Daniel looked up, and the skin on his scalp physically
crawled. Everyone queuing at the nearest check-in desk was staring at them. His
jaw dropped, this was one audience he could do without. He’d never faced so
many of
them
before. His muscles had
gone rigid, fear taking a hold of him.

“Rob, I think it’s time to be gone.” The tone of Daniel’s
voice caught Rob’s attention, and he looked up to see the problem they were now
faced with.

“Hmm. You’re not wrong, buddy. Never fucking stops, does
it?” he asked rhetorically. As a single group, they all began shuffling slowly
towards the departure gates. Janet was holding the kids’ hands tightly, Rob and
Daniel standing either side. Joe, new to this brazen technique of hiding in
plain view, was sweating profusely, while trying to stay as close as was
reasonable. Fortunately, the aftershave was strong and he, too, was ignored.

At the gates, they found the
FastTrack
entrance. Due to its more infrequent use, it was deserted, while the other
gates were clogged with vacantly starring zombies. Walking towards the gate, a
screeching howl sounded from behind them. The shock of the noise forced all
their heads to turn towards the sound. A man, or what was left of him, had been
trailing them at a distance, curiosity at this strange group compelling him to
follow, and he now decided they were definitely food. His strident calls had
attracted the attention of the thousands queuing at the desks. Instinctively,
they seemed to understand his message, and turned to face the fugitives. One by
one, they woke from their torpor and began to follow the small, huddled group.

“Shit, now I know what a lobster feels like in a tank at a
restaurant,” Rob said. “Move! Get through the gate.” He was pushing them
through the gateway, none too gently; Daniel followed behind in case a cheetah
emerged from the throng. Once through, they slammed the entrance doors, made
from reinforced, frosted glass, and so obliterating the view of the massing
hoards. The relief of the barrier didn’t last long; shadows of people, crowding
the length of the glass wall, darkened the area in which they found themselves.

They turned around to face the departure area. Small numbers
of dead were wandering around, sitting in the Starbucks,
Garfunkels
and other fast food areas, mimicking normality.

“Let’s get moving. Do you know what gate your flight was
supposed to be at?” Daniel faced Joe.

“I think it’s 104. We were supposed to have been bussed
through, not come in this way.” He peered closely at the departures board.
“Look, it’s marked up, third one down.”

They turned to look, and there it was: Americas United,
flight AU342, direct to Washington.

“Sight for sore eyes,” Rob whispered under his breath.

“Too bloody right,” Danny replied. Looking around, he saw a
sign indicating the direction they needed to take to get to the gate. Ten
minutes walking time, the sign said. Bet we do it in less, he told himself. A
loud crack came from behind, as the glass wall began to succumb to the weight
of zombies now pressing on the other side.

“Let’s go,” Rob urged. They moved off, desperately trying to
maintain a slow gait, mimicking their enemy. All they wanted to do was run like
hell. “Walk, everybody. When we get to the narrower gangways, we can pick up
speed, I reckon.”

With an almighty crash, the glass divider finally gave way,
and a victorious moaning rose in a crescendo from behind.

“Fuck that, let’s run!” Joe shouted, and lit out ahead of
them. The rest took up his example, and they crashed through small groups of
loitering dead, bowling them aside like tenpins. The kids squealed, partly in fear,
part excitement. Between Janet and Daniel, they held their hands, and
carried-dragged the children at an adult pace. Rob followed behind, guarding
against fast ones.

They arrived at the bridge built to take passengers to the
new building, their destination. It was very tall, designed to allow the
largest aeroplanes to pass under it easily, on their way in and out of the
airport. The escalator was still running, but no-one could see what was at the
top; it was a long way up.

“I’ll go ahead, and check it’s clear,” Rob said, “you stay
here and make sure we’re safe from behind.” Daniel nodded agreement, and Rob
leaped up the escalator’s stairs, two at a time, until he neared the top.
Crouching, rifle raised, Rob allowed the escalator to raise him towards the
final goal. As he reached the summit, the sun caught him in its dying rays,
bathing him in an orange-red glow. He fired a single shot, and then stood on
the upper platform, carefully looking around the scene. Turning, he waved for
them to follow.

Having caught their breath while waiting, they now raced up
to the top. Walking quickly across the bridge, they caught a glimpse of an
enormous plane, clearly docked at their gate. They hurried down the stairs on
the other side, past the dead zombie that Rob had dispatched, afraid to be left
behind at the last moment. Once they reached the waiting area, they could see
immediately that the plane was indeed the one they were aiming for, its logo
emblazoned on the side. Problem was, they weren’t the only ones. The waiting
area was full of more undead.

“Bugger,” Daniel whispered. They all stood stock still,
praying their aftershave and perfume was still effective. “Now we walk like the
dead,” Daniel muttered, “like your life depends on it.” Amazing how so many
everyday expressions had a basis in fact. The irony of this particular
expression wasn’t lost on any of them.

Slowly they edged their way forward, towards the gate, and
the quay that was connected to the plane. Many of the dead were seated; young,
old, they were all there, waiting patiently for the announcement to board; the
call they were never going to get. The three staff manning the desk were in
position, rictus airline smiles evident on their cadaverous faces. All had
sustained injuries to their exposed skin: faces, throats, or arms. Clearly they
had been infected through bites, probably while doing their jobs, here at the
gate. Poor bastards, Daniel thought.

They got to the door, which was sealed shut, a code pad next
to it offering access to those in the know. Above it was a phone, connected
directly to the plane at the end of the quay. Wondering how to get past the
security, Daniel’s thoughts were interrupted by the phone, its shrill sound
making him jump.

All eyes turned in the direction of the sound, not least the
many dead passengers eager to board at last. Daniel picked up the handset, and
the ringing stopped.

“Yes?”

“Who’s this?” the voice asked.

“One of the passengers. You might like to let us aboard, I
think we are your last to arrive.”

“Where’s Sarah? The duty manager. She should be up there.”

“She’s not available right now,” he answered as quietly as
possible. Some of the dead were standing up, not sure whether they were about
to board, or feast. “There are six of us here, and we’d really like to come aboard.
Like, now.” He was trying to remain calm, trying not to cause panic on the
plane. If they closed their door, it would be over.

Joe made his way to the front, and took the handset from
Daniel, with a confident ‘I’ll sort it’ look on his face.

“I’m Joe Byron, I’m supposed to be on this flight. I’m from
the American Embassy, a diplomat. You’ll find my name on the manifest.” He
waited a moment. “Hello?” He looked perplexed, the line was dead. His voice had
risen during the exchange, and now the dead were hemming them in, way too close
for comfort.

“Fuck this,” Daniel said and aimed his pistol at the lock.
On the third shot, it gave way, and they charged down the quay to the door of
the plane. Daniel could hear firing coming from behind; Rob was busy keeping
the determined passengers at bay. The captain was standing at the door, a
belligerent look on his face. Another male member of the crew was standing off
to one side, ready to assist.

“Get ready to shut the fucking door!” Daniel shouted at the
captain.

Seeing Daniel brandishing a gun and shouting, he perceived
him, and those running behind, as a threat. With an urgency driven by fear, he
began to pull the door closed, desperate to prevent an armed attack on his
aircraft.

“Let us in first!” Daniel shouted at him, raising his gun to
make the point. Seeing the weapon being aimed at him, the captain backed off,
hands held up, and the last remaining six normal people in England, or so it
seemed, careered through the door. Rob and Daniel took up a defensive position
as the captain, now realising what was going on, pressed a button on the quay
controls, and it began to move away from the aeroplane. He jumped back into the
plane as the first zombie arrived; it promptly tried to chase him across the
widening gap. The howling monster fell forward, its head smashing into the
fuselage, and back-flipped onto the tarmac below. Having followed their prey
down the quay, more appeared and also tried to jump the widening gap, like
toothpaste being squeezed from a tube. They slowly formed a writhing pile of
undead beneath the A380.

The small group of survivors gathered themselves, the
children holding Daniel and Janet’s hands as if a family unit, and watched as
the captain closed the only open door on the plane, sealing them from the
horrors outside. Never had Daniel felt such a feeling of relief flood through
him. They were safe, for now. That would have to do.

Securing the exit, the captain turned around to look at his
new guests, unsure of what had just happened. They looked harmless enough,
apart from the guns, of course. What a motley bunch: a couple of scruffy kids,
a stressed looking woman, two blokes that seemed like they’d be more at home
behind a desk than hijacking an aircraft, definitely not terrorists. And the
last one had to be the diplomat, if that is what he actually was. He certainly
looked worse for wear.

“So, my name is Captain Morgan. Who are you?” Daniel became
temporary spokesperson, feeling guilty for pointing his gun at their saviour.

“Hi,” he began, “my name is Daniel. This is my wife, Janet;
these two are Penny and Sam. Over here is my friend, Rob, and a fellow
compatriot of his, Joe. Byron, wasn’t it?” he directed the question at the
diplomat.

“Yes, Daniel. Thanks.” Joe took over the introductions. “Joe
Byron, diplomat,” he said, holding out his hand. The captain automatically
shook it. “These people saved my life, and I’d like to return the favour. Can
they come with us to the USA?”

“If that’s what they want, then of course they can. We
appear to have plenty of available seating. And I’m sure as heck not opening
that door again.” He turned to the rest. “Hello, everyone. Welcome aboard
Flight AU342, direct to, well, wherever they will let us land in America. If
they let us land.”

“What do you mean by that?” Joe asked, his voice less
certain.

“I’ll lay the facts out for ya,” Morgan said. “We missed our
slot outta here; we haven’t been given a new one, so most likely we’ll have to
take off illegally.”

Janet interrupted. “You can do that?”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s the easy part. The problems start when
approaching the US coast. Without authorisation, it’s probable they’ll want to
shoot us down.”

“Would they do that?” Joe asked. “Of course, they would,
stupid,” he said, answering his own question.

“So, is it wise to try?” Daniel asked.

“To be quite honest, I’d rather take my chances over there,
than remain here.
 
From what I’ve seen, I
don’t think there’s much left for us in this place. I was instructed to take
some folks back home and, with or without them, I’m going back.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be saying something uplifting,
Captain?” Rob asked, smiling.

“I’m working on it,” the captain replied, returning the
smile. “In the meanwhile, you can make yourselves comfortable, pretty much
anywhere on the plane. And secure your weapons, please. We don’t want an
accidental discharge. That really would ruin our day.”

He turned to the purser, who had walked up to the group
while the captain spoke.

“Hey, Becky. These folk need seats, and probably something
to eat and drink, certainly the kids. We won’t be getting any more passengers.”
The children were wilting fast; both were almost asleep on their feet. The
adults weren’t much better. The sudden release of tension, feeling safe, at
least for a while, had left them drained of any desire, but to sleep. It had
been a long day.

“Sure. Follow me, folks. Gosh, someone’s wearing some strong
aftershave,” she said, noticing the smell washing off the group like a fog.

“That’d be the kids,” Janet replied, smiling for the first
time since the morning.

While the captain returned to the cockpit to discuss the
turn of events with his first officer, Daniel and the rest were shown into
first class.

“Make yourselves comfortable, there are a few more people
back there, but that’s all. The crew outnumber the passengers on this flight.”

Collapsing into the most comfortable chairs most of them had
ever encountered, three of the six fell asleep immediately. Joe sat away from
the group, a strange reaction considering their circumstances, but Daniel let
it go. Maybe he was just a private person. Rob sat down with a sigh and
immediately began to dial Sandra on his mobile phone. Daniel stroked the back
of Janet’s hand, happy they were on board a plane they never really expected
even to find, let alone be allowed on. He remained awake, needing to work out
their next move. As the purser walked past, Daniel caught her wrist to get her
attention.

“Hey, Becky, can you take me to see the captain? I need to
speak with him urgently.”

“He’s
kinda
busy right now. Can it
wait until we’re airborne?”

“No, not really. But if it helps, I’ll leave my weapons
here.”

He placed his pistol beside the sleeping Janet, and placed
his rifle across his seat, next to her.

Visibly relaxing at the gesture, Becky led the way to the
cockpit. She spoke briefly into the handset positioned outside the door, and
then keyed in the security code.

The door clicked open, and Daniel walked in. The cockpit was
enormous, way bigger than he expected. You could house half a dozen people in
here, he thought, unlike previous generations of aircraft.

The captain turned around, looking at the interloper.

“What can I do ya for? Danny isn’t it?” he asked.

“Yes. Captain, I know you’re the one in charge here, but we
really need to get this bird off the ground, soonest.”

“I’m just waiting for a take-off slot, why?”

“Because, if I’m right, you are looking at one of only six
uninfected people in the south east of England, outside you and your crew. It
certainly looked like we’re the only survivors when we were out there,” he
said, pointing out the window for emphasis. “There may be a few others, but we
didn’t see them, and we travelled out from Central London, and then around the
busiest motorway in the UK. No-one seems to be alive, or certainly not what
you’d call alive.”

“What about in the airport?”

“We didn’t see a single soul that wasn’t infected. There are
thousands of people in the terminals, all desperate to get at anything still
warm.
 
It was a miracle we managed to get
through, quite frankly.”

“Sounds like a warzone out there,” Morgan said.

“It isn’t a war, so much as annihilation. Us live ones are
in the minority, right now.” Daniel peered out the window next to the captain,
and could see across the runway to the car park at the other end of the
airport. “They’re even running across your runway, and feasting on their
victims. Look.”

Disbelieving, the captain peered more closely than before,
finally seeing the nightmare scenario for what it was, the appalling horror
being played out right in front of him. His jaw dropped in horror, when he
realised what his wits had refused to see previously.

“BB. Have you been able to make contact with Ops or Ground
lately?” he asked, without taking his eyes off the scene. A sense of urgency
was in his voice now, he somehow suspected that waiting for clearance was, in
his heart, just going through the motions.

“No, Captain. All I’m getting is static.”

“Right, BB, let’s get out of here. Danny, would you return
to your seat, please?”

“Would you mind if I stayed? It’s years since I was last in
a cockpit, and never one like this.”

“Were you a pilot?”

“Yes, private only, but I occasionally had the chance,
pre-nine eleven, of course, to fly in the supernumerary seat.”

“Well, in that case, be my guest. You can call Becky on the
handset next to you and let her know we’re preparing for take-off.” He turned
back to the business in hand. “How you going, BB? Ready to rock and roll?”

Working through their extensive checklists, these days found
on their console screens, rather than on traditional cardboard or paper, the
pre-start procedures were surprisingly quick for such a massive aeroplane.
Daniel felt the vibration of the engines spooling up, and in no time at all
they were ready to depart. As they were independent of ground handling, BB
engaged reverse thrust to move back from the gate. Adding small amounts of
power, the plane began to move, the thrust from the four Rolls Royce engines
making the large glass panels in the terminal shake and bow. Adding a little
more juice, the aircraft began moving properly backwards now; at the same time
several panels of glass imploded into the terminal.

“Now you can see why we get a pushback from a cart,” the
captain explained, a slight nervousness in his voice. What he was doing was
against all procedure and reasonable practice, but then, so had been the rest
of his day. “We’ll either be stopped and arrested, or we will be off the ground
in ten minutes.”

“Jesus,” Daniel exclaimed, watching the mass of bodies
writhing around under mountains of flailing broken glass in the halls. He
forced himself to remember that this was all they could do, they had to get
away. He, too, was waiting for sirens to sound. It would be hard to explain to
the authorities: well, officer, it’s like this, there were these zombies…

Because the rear and forward undercarriage were steerable,
the massive beast of a plane handled easily as they backed gradually away from
the gate. Soon, they were far enough from their resting place and neighbouring
planes that they could begin taxiing forward. Their parked position had been
near the threshold of the runway, so it took less than five minutes to line up
on the centreline. The route they had taken up to this point was now littered
with crushed bodies of Infected, too slow or unaware to move out of the way.
The massive weight of the aircraft meant that no-one on board felt a thing as
the human road kill piled up.

“Here, we go,” the captain announced, and the first officer
placed a blind call on his radio, just in case someone was listening,
announcing their departure. The captain sent the throttle levers to full power.
The rather disconcerting aspect of these fly-by-wire planes was that,
irrespective of the settings the captain input through the levers, the aircraft
computers would decide how much power was needed for take-off, based upon
configuration, weight and weather. All very clever, but it would never allow
for the slight drag encountered as the wheels obliterated the occasional
walking dead on the runway; it was just not an option on the menu. The plane’s
size and inertia meant the small, but vicious obstructions on the runway went
unnoticed, about as much as a car wheel squashing marshmallows, although these
marshmallows left bloody smears on the underside of the wings and fuselage. By
the time it left the runway, the plane looked like it had suppurating wounds
along its rear flanks.

By some miracle of good fortune, none of the walkers had
been sucked into the engines, and they lifted off quickly due to their much
lighter than expected load. The plane began to follow its programmed route to
the USA, firstly heading north, on a path that would take them over Lockerbie,
then completing a Great Circle route to the northeast coast of America.

As the workload reduced in the cockpit, Daniel felt he could
speak once more. “That was pretty impressive, thanks, Captain,” he commented.
“Tell me, were any of your staff or passengers showing signs of being ill, at
all?”

The captain, caught off guard by the question, his focus on
flying the plane, paused a moment before answering. “We do have a few that
didn’t seem too well when I checked earlier; one of them is a crew member. Why?
Is there a problem?”

“From what we’ve seen today, it is quite probable that they
will turn into one of those creatures you saw at the gate. For our own safety,
we’ll need to take precautions against anything kicking off. Can they be
restrained?”

“You think that’s necessary? Really? Have to say, I’m having
trouble getting my head around all this.” Seeing the grimly serious look on
Daniel’s face, he sighed before answering. “Yes, the purser has a supply of
those plastic tie things that the police use to restrain people safely. Perhaps
you and your friend can help her sort it out. I’m not happy about these sick
people being on board, but they are American, and I think I need to get them
home, no matter what.”

“A laudable sentiment, Captain, but we’ve all seen what they
can do, if left to turn. They are unspeakably dangerous; they just seem to want
to feed. On us.”

“So how did you lot get past them, then?”

“Aftershave.”

“What?”

“We sprayed ourselves with tons of the stuff; it stopped us
smelling like fresh meat.”

“Ah, that explains it, I thought you all smelt pretty
overpowering when you boarded, but I didn’t like to say. Especially as you had
guns,” he added, wryly and a bit humourlessly.

“Captain, I’d like to apologise sincerely for pointing my
gun at you out there, but we were somewhat desperate to get on board.” Daniel
had hated doing that to a fellow pilot, but needs must when the devil drives.

“I get it, I’d ’a probably done the same dang thing, in the
same situation. Let’s just forget about it. We’ll call it quits if you guys can
secure my plane beyond the cockpit door.”

“Consider it a deal,” Daniel replied, taking an instant
liking to this pilot. “I guess I’d better get back to Rob, and we can sort
things out with Becky.”
 
He stood to go.
It was dark outside the plane now, but he could see, at the top of the cloud
ahead of them, the last of the sun’s golden rays touching its tips. It looked
beautiful, maybe it was an omen, telling of good fortune ahead.

Back in the cabin, he sat down beside Janet. She was sound
asleep. For someone who was essentially afraid of flying, this was quite a
feat, and told of her physical and mental exhaustion. Daniel holstered his
pistol once more. Rob beckoned him over to his side of the cabin.

“Enjoy the take-off?” he asked Daniel.

“Yeah, it was great, apart from seeing all those poor
bastards that were getting mangled underneath the plane.” He paused, reflecting
on all the killing that was quickly becoming normal behaviour. “Did you get
through to Sandra?”