The Common Cold (Book 1): A Zombie Chronicle (20 page)

Three hours had passed; the plane had made good time with a
friendly tailwind, driving them much faster than anticipated over the ground.
They were now about twenty minutes from Denver, but had still not been able to
raise the Tower or Approach controllers. They were effectively on their own in
the skies. Daniel had returned to the cockpit; he liked the environment, and
appreciated the additional knowledge he gained about their situation.

“BB, are you getting the same readings as me?” The captain
was peering closely at the hydraulics page on his console. “Pressure is
dropping.”

“Yeah, I’m seeing it too. Support systems are okay,
electrics and pumps are working.”

“We must be losing hydraulic fluid. What does it say in the
manuals?”

BB swivelled in his chair and pulled out a thick binder,
labelled hydraulics on its spine. Flicking through the folder, periodically
referring to the screen to confirm numbers, he was looking more tight-lipped as
he read. Clearly the news wasn’t good.

“I think we do have a leak somewhere,” he said, finally sure
of what he had discovered.

“Really? Any thoughts as to where from?”

“Well, I guess we could have been hit by some debris during
the dogfight earlier. There is also a junction in the hold that might be
responsible. That’s our best bet, I reckon. The pressures I’m seeing indicate
that area as being the point of pressure loss.”

“Shit. Daniel, Joe the diplomat is down there, isn’t he?”
Morgan asked, an accusatory tone in his voice.

“Yes, but unless he’s disturbed, it’s probable he’s just
sitting there. I can’t imagine him doing anything.”

“We have to stop this leak, or soon we won’t have enough
pressure to fly the plane, let alone lower the landing gear. The rate we’re
losing pressure, we have about ten to fifteen minutes before it becomes
critical. You have to go down there and stop that leak. While you’re doing
that, I’ll begin the descent to the airport.”

“I wouldn’t know where to start to fix it,” Daniel blurted.

“Take BB with you, he can do it. You just protect him while
he’s down there.”

“Sure, I can do that. Let me get Rob. Between us, BB will be
safe.” With that, Daniel stood and left the cockpit. Hurrying upstairs, he
found Rob on the phone again. Now, there was a man making the best of his time,
he thought.

“Rob, can I see you a moment?” The urgent look on Daniel’s
face made Rob finish off the call quickly. With a jerk of his head, Rob
understood, and they moved out of earshot.

“What’s up?”

“There’s a hydraulic leak down in the cargo hold. We’ve got
to take BB down there, and protect him while he tries to fix it. We’ve only got
a few minutes before it goes critical.”

“Shit. Yeah, sure,” he replied, feeling the butt of his
pistol for reassurance.

They rushed to the stairs, but were intercepted by Janet.

“What’s going on, guys?” She had seen the looks on their
faces, and knew something was up.

“We’ll be back in a few minutes. We have a little problem to
sort out.” The look in Daniel’s eyes were asking her not to pursue this, there
wasn’t time. She stepped aside, and together Daniel and Rob went back to the
flight deck door. BB was standing outside the cockpit, stretching his legs.
He’d been sitting for hours, not normal procedure, but then nothing about this
flight was normal.

They descended the familiar steps to the access door, opposite
the systems room. Unlocking it as quietly as possible, they pushed the door
open. It creaked slightly as it came to a stop. Looking around the hold, they
could not see anything, or anyone out of the ordinary. The old woman Daniel had
dispatched earlier was still lying where they had left her, the pool of blood
around her head drying and coagulated. The cargo handler, much to their relief,
had not moved since he was killed. It felt strange to be suspicious of the
dead; any other time in his life these thoughts would have seen him locked up
for losing it. Joe was nowhere to be seen; perhaps he was elsewhere, at the
arse end of the plane, most likely. As far away from his fellow deceased as
possible, no doubt.

Slowly, Rob and Daniel entered the enormous cavity in the
belly of the beast. They had drawn their guns, and were now sweeping the room
for hostiles. Anyone they saw would be shot, having reiterated to each other
their new motto, ‘No More Risks’. Even Joe would suffer that fate.

As they neared the target hatch, under which the hydraulic
junction was to be found, they saw that someone, at some point, had ransacked two
or three of the cargo containers, leaving clothing and belongings strewn
around, the cases torn in an apparent frenzy. It looked to Rob and Daniel that
Joe had turned; looking at the baggage, they could see the strength needed for
such destruction. If it was him, he was likely to be one of the fast ones, a
cheetah. They were the ones with all the strength. Standing guard, with fear increasing
their awareness, they checked that BB was doing what he was supposed to; they
wanted to get out of this place as soon as possible. All that was needed was to
get the hatch open and tighten a nut, divert the flow, or something technical,
surely. At the moment, BB was struggling just to open the hatch.

Daniel looked more closely at the hatch lock, and could see
someone had tampered with it, twisting it out of shape. Looking around for
something to jemmy it with, he saw a set of tools clipped to the wall, for use
by ground crews. It included a crowbar. Pulling it off the wall, Daniel drove
it between the deck and the hatch, the softer aluminium giving in to the force.
He put his back into it, and the cover popped ajar.

Suddenly, with sheer brute force, the hatch was thrown fully
open, and a creature leapt out. It had been a man at one time; now it was a
monster, blood and muck covered it from top to bottom, the tattered clothes
just recognisable as a uniform, the epaulets distinctively branding it a captain.
It might have been the missing pilot for this plane’s crew, but right now it
was intent on destruction, the thing’s eyes white and fierce as it glared
around the room. Its hands were bloody, fingernails torn as if it had been
scraping at something. Glancing at the opening, Daniel saw scratch marks and
gouges on the underside of the hatch door, the bloody marks testament to its
desperate struggle to be free from the hydraulics bay.

Crouching, it assessed the threat. BB was lying on the
ground, cold-cocked by the force of the opening hatch. He groaned, attracting
the beast’s attention. It looked in the direction of the sound, its head
swivelling unnaturally awkwardly. It began to stalk the first officer, its
stance resembling a feline predator, apparently unaware of the other two’s
presence. Neither had moved since it burst from its prison. Only Rob was in a
position to open fire at this moment. He took careful aim at the hunter.

The plane hit turbulence, and the zombie looked around,
curious at the motion. Rob fired, his bullet only scraping the skull.
Fortunately the slight impact was enough to shatter the projectile, slivers of
lead peppering the fuselage, but not piercing through to the outside. Daniel
used the confusion caused by the shot to line up his pistol and have a go. The
beast was fast, the round caught it in the head but didn’t do enough damage to
bring it down. It screeched loudly, baring its teeth which, due to the receding
gums, looked like they had grown into fangs, the teeth now modified for tearing
flesh. There was no humanity left in it at all.

BB groaned again, turning onto his side. He was trying to
get up, oblivious to the threat. The zombie threw itself at the unresisting
prey, leaping the eight feet to its intended victim. Two bullets caught it
simultaneously in the head. It landed and rolled lifeless on the floor, the
corpse now headless. With the impact of two bullets, the head had burst like a
watermelon, spraying the decking and wall with rainbow colours of red through
yellow, as well as darker gobbets of brain and bone. Daniel now understood
better the metaphors used by writers when describing the damage bullets did to
bodies. He was appalled at the sheer amount of blood.

Rob stayed on guard as Daniel went to BB.

“You okay?” Daniel said, grabbing under the man’s arms and
helping him to his feet. While BB was gathering his wits, Daniel looked into
the hole previously hidden by the hatch cover. It was a mess down there, pipes
twisted and bent. Blood was smeared everywhere, making it difficult to see
where a leak might be. A few pipes were twisted enough to have holes in them.
He looked more closely, and could see a fine mist of oil spraying from several
of the connections. No way was this going to be fixed in time to stop things
from becoming critical.

BB looked over his shoulder and came to the same sorry
conclusion. “Jesus,” he breathed. “Let’s get back to the cockpit. There are
still some options. Come on.”

He staggered towards the door, covered from behind by the
lads. As they neared the exit, Joe came out from behind the cargo pallets. He
just stood there, looking on, making no attempt to attack; perhaps somewhere in
his damaged brain he still knew them.

Grateful to be outside the hold once more, they locked it
and returned to the cockpit with the bad news.

“Shit. Okay, BB. Get strapped in, we need to find a solution
to our problem. You two, stay put, I’ll need you to help with the cabin once
we’ve decided on our plan.” The captain was now a man of action and decision.
Together, he and his first officer worked their way through the manuals and
systems pages until they came up with just one conclusion: control the plane in
its current descent, or put the undercarriage down. There wasn’t enough
pressure available for both.

Rob and Daniel stood there, stunned at the realisation that
they were going to crash land.

“Right, first things first, boys,” the captain began. “You
must not panic, you have to be strong for those people back there. From what I
suspect you have done in the last twenty four hours, I think you can do this.”
They both nodded, and waited for the details. “We will have to land, gear up.
I’m pretty darn sure we are the first to try this on an A380, so there’s no
guarantee as to the outcome. We have to do it at night; we can’t wait until
sunrise because although we have enough fuel, we won’t have enough hydraulic
pressure to wait that long. We’ve still got GPS, so we know we can be bang on
target for the runway. It’ll be like a normal let down, only with no wheels,
just so long as nothing is blocking our path. It will make a
helluva
noise, but when we stop moving, you need to help
calm the other passengers, while the cabin crews do what they have been trained
to do. By all means necessary, get everyone you can off the plane. Don’t worry
about us, we’ll go out these windows, unless things turn out well enough for a
more relaxed disembarkation.”

Rob and Daniel nodded their assent. “Off you go then, and
good luck.” The captain shook their hands, and got back to the business of flying.
They had only a few more minutes of descent left before they made contact with
the runway. As they returned to their seats, BB began the announcement for the
upcoming landing.

Janet’s face was a picture of pleasure as she saw Daniel and
Rob returning. There was no way she wanted to face this on her own. The
children were looking frightened; Janet had been reassuring them all would be
well, this would just be another adventure that would be over shortly. With all
they had experienced in the last few hours, they stoically held each other
tightly, Penny sniffing gently, Sam lovingly stroking her hair. Oskar the
greyhound moved to her side and licked her hand in sympathy. She clutched at
his fur, grateful for the attention. Daniel held onto Oskar’s lead, to make
sure the dog didn’t get thrown across the cabin.

Ten minutes later, the captain called three times the
command to brace for impact. Daniel looked out the window, and for the first
time could see something other than pitch blackness. Fires lined the runway,
unidentifiable rubbish strewn along its length, burning. Then he realised what
it was: aircraft wreckage. Perhaps another plane had tried its luck and failed,
the debris proof of the attempt. He held his breath and clutched the dog’s lead
more tightly, his knuckles white from his tight grip.

With a roaring metallic, shredding sound, the fuselage and
engines struck the tarmac evenly, the noise of the connection louder than
anything Daniel had ever heard in his life. And the sound kept on coming. Just
as the plane appeared to be slowing in relatively good order, a jarring thud
was felt, followed by a ripping sound, coming from under them, hurtling past
like a locomotive under their seats. Janet screamed, as did the kids. Even Rob
and Daniel, in spite of their desire to remain calm, vented their lungs in
fear. The dog thrashed around on its lead like a landed fish, its terror
evident. Smoke was filling the cabin now, a stench of burning metal stinging
their nostrils, and making them want to retch. An invisible force hurled them
all to the right, as the plane swivelled sideways. They could feel the tail
rising along with one wing. As one, they all screamed as they felt the plane
begin to flip over. In the last moment, at the top of the arc, it crashed back
down onto the tarmac, upright, and after a few more feet sliding along the
runway, silence and darkness descended.

After a few tense moments, as the ringing in their ears
subsided and they could hear once more, they began to detect sobbing and the
occasional scream. Daniel and Rob both woke from their daze and stood up
unsteadily.

“Come on Janet, we need to get off the plane. As quickly as
possible, it might blow.” Daniel pulled at her arm, and she slowly realised
where she was. She had a small cut on her forehead.