The Common Cold (Book 1): A Zombie Chronicle (16 page)

Rob came back to Daniel’s seat after updating the captain.

“Apparently there are three ways from the cargo hold to the
passenger cabin that we ought to be concerned with.”

“Let’s get cracking then, mate,” Daniel replied. Janet
looked concerned.

“What’s going on?” she asked, her fear always close to the
surface.

“We just need to block off access from the cargo area. We
don’t know if anything is down there, so we’re just blocking it off for good
measure.”

“Okay,” she replied, unconvinced. Her hand clutched the
stock of the rifle across her lap.

“Don’t use that on the plane, will you?” Rob asked, pointing
to the weapon. “A round from it will go through a body, and then through the
fuselage wall.”

“Really?” she said, letting go of it once more. Janet had
never held a gun before, other than one time at a company event where they all
had ten shots against clay pigeons. She had been the only woman to have scored
a hit that day, making Daniel very proud.

“I can fix that problem,” he said holding out his hand to take
the rifle. She gave it to him.

“I think I’ll get the diplomat to give us a hand, this
time,” Daniel said, “the man is way too comfortable. Have you seen the way he’s
bossing the cabin crew around?” He stood up and went over to Joe’s seat as Rob
began ejecting the rounds from the rifle.

Joe was lying back, drink in hand, headphones on, listening
to music. Danny tapped him on the shoulder, and the man started in surprise.

“Hi, Danny. How’s things, buddy?” he smiled a big-toothed
grin, “get one of the ladies to make you a drink. They make a wicked Mai Tai.”
The man was clearly a few sheets to the wind already.

“It’s not a good idea to get pissed on this flight, Joe. You
need to keep your wits about you.”

“Listen, I’ve got a bit of a fever, and alcohol’s good for
numbing the senses,” he replied, suddenly irritable. Looking more closely,
Danny could see Joe did look a bit rough, sweat glistening on his forehead.

“Ah, Joe, did you get bitten, or get your skin broken in
contact with one of those things?” Danny asked, his senses telling him
something was awry. Joe had been covered in blood when they’d picked him up by
the buses; a bite or scratch wouldn’t have been easy to discern. It only needed
to slightly break the skin to lead to infection.

“Of course, not. I would have told you,” his response
indignant.

“Fair enough,” Daniel replied, raising his hands in
surrender. “Would you like to come and help us secure a few access points to
the cargo deck? Make sure nothing can get between floors. Will you do that?”

“Wouldn’t it be too cold for anything to survive down
there?” Joe enquired, his brain cogs having to work harder than usual.

“No, it’s climate controlled. Not as warm as up here, but it
is survivable.”

“I never knew that. Sure, I’ll help. Where are these points?”

“Rob has been told, I don’t know yet.”

Rob walked up to them, having finished customising the
bullets for Janet’s rifle. “You coming?” he asked of Joe.

“Of course, I don’t want you two fellas having to do it all
by yourselves,” he responded sarcastically.

“Tell me you’re not pissed. You goddam are, aren’t you?” Rob
asked. “Don’t you know what’s all around us? Today of all days, you have to
have your wits about you.”

“He asked me that just now,” Joe replied, aggressively
pointing at Daniel. “I’m just dandy. Leave me alone. Lead on chief.” Standing
up, almost straight, he started singing the Blue Sky Riders’ song, ‘You’re not
the boss of me’, humming most of the words but clearly enunciating the
pertinent ones.

Rob sucked his teeth in dismay. The man was a liability,
there was no doubt the diplomat was well on the way to being seriously loaded,
but he had been willing to help with their escape from England, so Rob decided
to cut him some slack. Survival wasn’t to everyone’s taste, Joe was one of those
that would miss the world as it was. “Come on, it’s up near the systems room,”
Rob said, finally. Joe followed unsteadily behind Daniel who was moving quickly
to catch up to Rob.

“He’s got a fever.”

Rob glanced sideways. “What? Has he been bitten?” he whispered,
concern in his tone.

“He said no, but I don’t believe him.”

“Hmm. Let’s keep an eye on him. As soon as we’ve secured
these hatches, we’ll check him out.”

“Works for me.”

“I was hoping we could split up and close one each, but I’m
not leaving him alone. Not now.”

They led the way down to the first entry point, Joe
following, swaying on his feet. They arrived at the door opposite the systems
room, venue of their last encounter with one of
them.
With his hand on his holstered pistol, Daniel slowly opened
it, and peered through. The area was cavernous and well lit. Due to their
circumstances at departure, there was very little cargo in the hold. There were
a few containers further back, around which he couldn’t see. Hearing
whimpering, he looked to the side, alarmed at the noise. In a set of animal
cages was a single dog, a greyhound. It was lying on a rag bed, its water bowl
dry and its food long gone.

“There’s a dog in a cage,” Daniel called back.

“What?” Rob replied.

“Leave it there, it’s just a dog,” Joe drunkenly opined.

“Fuck off, Joe,” Danny’s voice came from beyond the opened
door. Joe rolled his eyes in sarcastic resignation. Danny stepped out of the
hold, a large, black greyhound in tow on its lead. It was sporting a red
trackside coat.

“Oh, he’s beautiful,” Rob said, stroking the animal’s head.

“I’m not leaving him in there on his own. He’s thirsty and
hungry.” Daniel was about to pull the door to when a loud crash erupted behind
him. The cages were being thrown across the hold, the metal on metal making a
deafening racket.

“Fuck! What was that?” Daniel exclaimed, knowing he had let
his guard down upon seeing the dog.

“Guess!” Rob replied, drawing his gun.

The door was wrenched from Daniel’s hand. Next moment a pair
of wizened old claws reached out from the hold, and attempted to grab Daniel by
the arm. A look of horror on his face, he kicked out sideways, and the sound of
a body hitting the steel decking could be heard. Daniel threw the end of the
dog’s lead to Rob, and faced the threat, pistol at the ready. He aimed and
fired a single round, after which he stepped into the hold and walked over to
the body. Rob peered around the door and could see an old lady, long greying
hair, dressed for warmer climes, lying there, red spatter behind her and blood
pooling around her head like a devil’s halo.

Daniel turned to face Rob, his face torn with guilt at
killing an old woman. Rob raised his pistol towards Daniel, took aim and fired.
Daniel flinched, thinking his friend had taken leave of his senses. A weight
fell against his back and he cried out in surprise and shock, rolling away from
the threat. Realising he wasn’t the target, Daniel turned around and saw a
cargo handler, complete with yellow hi-
vis
jacket. It
just lay there, its mouth working in unintelligible speech. A second shot and
Rob silenced it forever.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here!” Daniel shouted and ran
towards the door. Falling through it, Rob closed it and flipped the latch,
locking it from their side. No-one would be coming through now.

“I told you not to get the dog,” Joe said, sarcasm and ‘told
you so’ written all over his face.

“If you hadn’t helped us with the captain earlier, I’d
belt
you one right now. May I politely suggest that you
SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Daniel said, spittle hitting the diplomat’s face. Even with
his Dutch courage, Joe dared not move until Daniel had walked off, dog in tow.

 
Stopping at the base
of the steps, Daniel took a deep breath and calmed down as much as possible.
Bending down, he fumbled with the collar until the name tag could be read.
“Oskar, it says. With a K.” He rubbed behind its ears, “hello Oskar with a K”.
The dog licked his face in response. “His nose is dry, let’s get him upstairs.
Janet and the kids can look after him.” They ascended with their lives and
their prize, the dog gamely managing the stairs, its claws clacking as it
scrabbled on each metallic step. They were met by a squeal of delight from
Penny; she was the first one to see him, and rushed over to greet the large
animal, who simply wagged his tail weakly.

“Wow, he’s beautiful,” Janet said, standing up. She walked
over to the small group. She noticed the blood on Daniel’s back, and pulled him
aside. “Are you okay? There’s blood on you.”

“Don’t worry about me, everything’s alright now,” he said
hugging her briefly, not wanting to make a scene. “Can you get him a drink? I
think he’s thirsty, and probably hungry.” Daniel asked. He removed his jacket,
not wanting to carry the blood around on his back; he’d clean it or find
another.

“Sure I can. Where did you get him?” Janet asked as she led
him to the nearest galley, closely followed by the kids who were nattering with
excitement, trying to pat him.

“He was in the hold. I think with all the crap going on,
he’s been rather overlooked. His name is Oskar.” At the sound of his name, the
dog looked up at Daniel, who absent-mindedly rubbed his ears. “We’ve got to
seal off another two more access points. Be back in a few minutes.” He kissed
her cheek.

He left Janet talking to a stewardess who was clearly also a
fan of dogs. Wish I got that much attention, he thought. At least the dog looks
happy now.

They walked to a point mid-way along the aeroplane,
descended the spiral staircase to the lower floor and found a square hatch,
embedded in the carpet. It was already closed. It was adjacent to the lower
mid-galley.

“This must be it,” Rob muttered, “although I’m not sure how
it can be locked from up here.” Peering at the square hatch, there was no
keyhole or obvious mechanism by which it could be secured from use.

“Perhaps we can put one of those food container trolleys
over it. They’re probably heavy enough to stop it from being opened.” Following
his own suggestion, Rob unclipped one from the nearby galley and wheeled it
over. He jammed one side to the wall, leaving two of the wheels on the cover
and pressed the wheel locks down. Testing it, it remained firmly in place.
“That’ll have to do, I guess.”

The third and final hatch was down the back. As they got
closer they could hear groaning, the sound of souls being tortured by memories,
things they could never have back unless reincarnation was an option.

“What the fuck is that?” Joe blurted, now shaking visibly.

“Just the infected, I imagine,” Daniel replied, suddenly
aware that Joe was looking even worse than a little while ago. Joe’s face was
becoming sunken, his eyes looking larger than before as the skin drew back. The
eyes themselves were looking lack-lustre, dull and emotionless, in spite of his
obvious terror at being segregated with the others of his upcoming type. Daniel
nudged Rob, tilting his head in Joe’s direction. Rob nodded slightly in reply;
he’d noticed too.

Joe saw the look on their faces and his jaw went slack with
fear. “No way am I going to be put with them. They’re infected!” he screamed.
Not giving them a chance to react, he ran aft and found a set of stairs leading
down. Throwing himself down them the fugitive disappeared, his cries fading as
he went.

“I think we’d better get him, Rob,” Daniel said, but Rob was
ahead of the curve, and was already racing after the fleeing diplomat. Together
they ran to the top of the stairwell and abruptly halted their headlong
progress, expecting an attack from the newly deranged man at any moment.
Carefully continuing their progress downwards, expecting at any moment to be
attacked, they were finally confronted by a single closed door. Joe could only
be on the other side of it. Gently Rob tried the handle. He could feel it was
being held on the other side.

“Don’t try to come in. I’m not going up with those,” Joe
paused, searching for a word and coming up empty, “
things
!” was all he could muster.

“Okay Joe, we won’t let it happen. Just calm down, and we
can talk a while.”

“It’s no fucking use, you know what’s happening as well as I
goddam do. I’m not leaving this place.”

“What do you want to do?” Danny asked, whispering to Rob, “
this is a bit of an impasse.”

“Leave him in there. He can’t harm anyone if we lock him in.
What can he do on his own when he turns, play diplomat, handing out Ferrero
Rocher chocolates?” he replied, alluding to their propensity to perform life
time tasks.

“I’m not in a hurry to try and restrain him. Remember Sue?”

“Yep. No more risks.” Rob smiled without humour as he
twisted the latch, securing the poor man in the hold.

“What are you doing?” came Joe’s suspicious question. He’d
heard the latch click shut.

“Don’t worry, buddy,” Rob answered, “we’re going to leave
you down here. We’ll stop by regularly, to make sure you’re okay, and see if
there’s anything you need. But we won’t try to come in, unless you ask.”

“Thank you,” came the quiet, now subdued reply. It was hard
to tell, but both swore they could hear gentle sobbing from the other side of
the door.

“Shit. Let’s get out of here,” Rob said, mounting the stairs
once more. They holstered their guns.

As they passed forward once more, the moaning receded behind
them. Neither had any desire to go and see the Infected. The smell was already
flowing downwards to the lower deck, in spite of the advanced air circulation
possible on the big aircraft. They were grateful to be back at their seats.
Becky was sitting with Janet, clearly the barrier between staff and passenger
had gone. There was little regular work for them to do. The cabin crew were
taking it in turns to watch the sick people down the back. They had also
managed to convince all of the healthy relatives that it was in their interest
not to remain back there. The presence of warm flesh was clearly creating
excitement in the warped, deranged minds of their loved ones, and beginning to
cause those strapped to their chairs to react wildly, intent on getting a
self-service meal. By closing the partition curtains and remaining out of
sight, the Infected calmed down, especially after Janet had suggested to Becky
that her staff spray themselves liberally with perfume or aftershave.