Clutch shot a look at me. “What do you mean?”
“What if something happened to me? You’d be distracted, too.”
“Nothing will happen,” he said gruffly. “I’ll make sure of it.
I shook my head and chuckled drily. “You’re such a he-man.”
“It’s not that you can’t take care of yourself,” he said. “I know you’re more than capable. It’s that,” he paused, “I want to take care of you.”
I let his words linger for a minute before speaking. “I think that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”
He didn’t smile. Instead, he reached out and pulled me to him. “I mean it,” he said quietly.
“No one’s getting lucky on this trip,” Griz said as he walked around us. “Not unless I’m the one getting lucky.”
“You think you’ll find some sheep on this trip?” Clutch asked.
Griz flipped him off and didn’t look back again as he headed to the Humvee.
I laughed. Griz was a hot catch for any woman. Even with men outnumbering women seven to one in New Eden, women flocked to him. It was likely because he was young, able-bodied, and easy to get along with. Jase and I, though, gave him crap about it. We picked on him that the ladies were intent on finding out if the “once you go black” urban legend was actually true. Griz denied it and said it was his sparkling personality.
Griz dropped his gear into the back of the vehicle before climbing into the driver’s seat. Everyone else’s gear was loaded into the remaining cargo space. We’d loaded the avgas for the plane yesterday. We had more gear than usual since we had no idea how long the thousand-mile trip could take. Before the outbreak, I could’ve flown to Moose Jaw in less than six hours flight time, not counting a fuel stop and immigration check.
In the middle of winter, we had about eight hours of sunlight each day. We were planning to make Moose Jaw tomorrow, stopping this afternoon to refuel and camp down for the night. Doing anything after dark was dangerous and a risk none of us were willing to take.
The sun hadn’t yet peeked over the horizon; we had a good head start on the day. When we reached the airport, everything was still and silent. No new zeds appeared in the office window. No dogs sniffed around the hangar when Zach pushed the door open. The white Cessna with a yellow and orange stripe sat patiently inside. I smiled and tapped the engine cowl. “Soon, baby. You’ll be dancing on the clouds soon.”
We pulled the plane out of the hangar. Clutch and I topped off the fuel while Griz and Zach loaded as much fuel as they could fit into the baggage. The rest of our gear would have to sit on our laps. The plane was going to be weighted down. It’d need much of the runway, but I’d done my calculations. We’d get off the ground. On a hot, humid day, we might not be so lucky. But the cold air was a pilot’s friend. Cold air was more dense, which meant it provided more lift. An airplane could lift off the ground easier and faster, and that was exactly what I needed for today.
“It’s full.” I handed Clutch the half-full fuel jug. Before sliding down, I sat on the top wing another minute and watched the tip of the sun break the horizon. It was going to be a beautiful sunrise, one of those fiery orange ones. Movement in the direction of the airport office caught the corner of my eye, and I squinted to make out the dark shapes emerging from the tree line in the distance.
I sucked in a breath.
Clutch held out a hand to help me down. “Ready?”
I glanced down at him, my eyes wide.
“What’s wrong?”
“We’re being stalked.” I pointed in the direction of the animals.
Clutch moved away to see for himself. “Griz, Zach. We need to get a move on. We’ve got company coming for breakfast.”
Griz and Zach were holding the last of our bags, and Griz closed the back of the Humvee. He looked in the direction of the dogs. “Sneaky little bastards.”
“They couldn’t have smelled us,” Zach said.
“They could’ve heard us,” I said as I slid down the windshield to stand on the engine cowl. “The Humvee isn’t exactly a stealth vehicle.”
“Shit.” I glanced over to see Zach drop everything and kick at something. “Get away!”
Clutch grabbed his sword and ran over the same time Griz slammed his machete down on something. Clutch swung and a yelp echoed through the morning air. They each kept swinging until I saw three furred shapes lay lifeless on the ground.
Zach lifted his pant leg and looked up at the other two men. “Did you see them? Were they sick?”
“Yeah,” Clutch said.
“Yeah, you saw them, or yeah, they were sick?” Zach asked.
A pause, then, “Both.”
Zach swung his fist through the air. “Shit.”
“Come on,” Clutch said. “We’ve got to go.”
Zach didn’t move. “I think I’ll sit this one out.”
“They’ll have a hospital at the capital. They can help.”
“The earliest we’ll reach them is tomorrow. By then, I’ll be dead weight. No, I think I’ll stick around here, watch the sun rise, and then head back to New Eden.”
After a long moment, Clutch nodded tightly.
Griz patted Zach on the shoulder. “Take care of yourself.” He grabbed his bags and put them into the plane.
Zach picked up the bags and handed them to Clutch. “I’ll try to get their attention, draw them away from the plane and runway.”
Zach looked my way and faked a grin. “Be careful with these two losers.”
I forced a smile as well, while tears blurred my vision. “See you when we get back,” I lied.
Unable to look at Zach without losing it, I slid off the Cessna and climbed into the pilot’s seat. I pulled out the airplane’s checklist, which I had spent hours studying last night, and laid it on my lap.
Clutch and Griz climbed in while I quickly went through each of the steps. I engaged the starter, and the Cessna’s engine roared to life. The noise spurred the animals into action. No longer stalking, they ran toward the plane, slowing as they approached.
Suddenly, the Humvee sped in front of us, scattering the dogs and wolves in all directions. I taxied forward, using the distance to warm up the engine enough for takeoff. Zach drove the Humvee like a mad man, zigzagging around the airport and throwing the animals off their game.
When we reached the runway, I did a fast run-up on the engine before throttling back. I looked at both Clutch and Griz. “You guys buckled in?”
Clutch held up his thumb, and Griz said, “Let’s rock and roll.”
I checked the prop and mixture one last time, pressed the throttle in, and the engine roared. The plane moved forward, slowly at first, then quickly picking up speed. Even without Zach, the plane was weighted down, and the wheels didn’t pop off until we were two-thirds of the way down the paved runway.
Careful to keep our climb shallow, I looked down to see the Humvee come to a stop, and animals gathered around it, as though waiting for treats. I shivered and fought to stay focused on flying. If I dwelled on the fact we’d lost a man before the mission even started, then I’d be tempted to return to the safety of New Eden.
But I’d made a promise. A promise worth keeping, even if it killed me.
HOPE
Chapter XXII
“Things sure look different from up here,” Griz said. “I could get used to traveling first-class.”
“I was beginning to think you were going to sleep the entire trip,” I said.
“I wasn’t sleeping,” he countered.
“You were snoring,” I said.
“You snore like a rhino with a head cold,” Clutch added.
“You guys make this shit up,” Griz said. “I’m too pretty to snore.”
Smiling, I looked out at the endless earth beneath us. At this altitude, we couldn’t see anything moving, which gave the world a serenity I hadn’t felt in a long time. Unplowed roads hid under a blanket of pure white, with no tire tracks or road salt to taint the snow. Trees and quiet houses were all that broke the rolling landscape.
Clutch looked up from the map. “Adjust ten degrees west.”
I did as he instructed and savored the feeling of flying. I knew my days of stick and rudders were limited. At some point, all fuel would break down enough that no plane would run.
Clutch pointed in the distance where the horizon loomed higher. “We’ll fly right over the Black Hills. Should be quite the view.”
Boy, was it ever. Tree-covered hills went on farther than we could see. It was nature’s splendor, untouched by the virus. I sighed. “I want to find a cabin and retire here.” I looked to Clutch. “How about it? Want to retire here?”
He smiled. “I’m all for that.”
The Black Hills soon gave way to North Dakota’s flatlands, whose simple landscape had its own flavor of surreal peace. Once we flew over the bombed ruins of Bismarck, we approached the point of our journey to refuel and stay overnight. I began our descent and watched the trees for signs of the wind’s direction and strength. “We’re lucky,” I said. “Hardly a breeze today.”
The airport came into view from nearly ten miles away. That was an advantage of flatter land. About twenty other buildings dotted the airport on a circular drive. I read through my checklist several times before handing it over to Clutch. “I’ll fly over to make sure the runway is clear,” I said. “Then we’ll come back around and land.”
Except for a snowdrift at one end of the runway, the rest of the pavement was relatively clear. “We got lucky,” I said. “I was afraid we’d have to deal with snow, but they must’ve gotten some strong winds here.”
Clutch read each step on the checklist to me as I flew the pattern and lined up on final. Adrenaline pumped through my veins and I clenched the yoke. “Guys, you better make sure you’re buckled in tight. I’ve never landed anything as big as this plane before.”
I was a few hundred feet off the ground when the stall alert sounded. “Shit,” I muttered, realizing I was trying to land the 210 like my Cub instead of like the much-heavier airplane it was. I added in power to pick up speed and lowered the rest of the flaps.
The runway came up way too fast, and I clenched my teeth as I brought the plane down. I made the mistake and let it drop, and the plane jumped right off the ground. After porpoising through another bounce, the plane settled on the ground. But, the snowdrift at the end of the runway was quickly approaching, and I slammed on the brakes. Clutch grabbed the dash to keep from crashing into the instruments. Gear banged around, and something slammed against the back of my seat.
The plane came to a stop less than ten feet from the snowdrift. After a moment of stillness, I breathed. “Wow, that wasn’t pretty.”
Griz laughed. “Pretty? More like it was the damn near scariest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“I guess I should’ve done a go-around.”
“We’re alive,” Clutch said. “And the plane will fly again. I hope.”
“I’m a bit rusty,” I said as I turned the plane around and taxied toward the buildings. “And, in my defense, this plane is three times the size of my Cub.”
“You did fine,” Clutch said. “You’re the best pilot I know.”
“I’m the
only
pilot you know.”
He shrugged and looked outside.
“How about I park by the airport office?” I asked.
“Which one is that?” Griz asked.
I pointed at the first building we’d reach. “I think that’s the one.”
“Looks as good as any,” Clutch said.
“It’s closest to the runway in case we need to make a fast exit,” Griz said.
I taxied toward the small building, which bore the sign,
Welcome to Garrison Municipal Airport
. Three planes were tied down on the ramp, with small patches of snow accumulated around their tires. I pulled up to the small building and looked at its windows and glass door. “How’s it look?” I asked. “We have a little over a quarter tank if we need to find another place.”
“And have to go through another one of those landings?” Griz said. “Nah, this is good.”
“You can fly next time,” I offered.
“That landing was great,” Griz said. “No complaints here.”
I parked the plane and cut the engine, and Clutch climbed out first, following by Griz. With weapons drawn, they approached the small building. I stayed in the plane in case we had to make a hasty retreat. They checked the door, the windows, and walked around the building.
The nearest town had less than two thousand people, which was why I selected this airport. It was big enough to have a runway I could use, but small enough that there shouldn’t be a great risk of zeds or wild animals. Bandits were another story. There never seemed to be any rhyme or reason as to where those assholes showed up.
A moment later, Clutch reappeared and gave the all-clear, and I climbed out. I reached into the backseat and grabbed my backpack, which was what had flown loose during landing. The cooler still sat, safe, on the floorboard. I opened the baggage and began unloading fuel containers while Clutch and Griz argued over how best to break into the locked office. Ignoring them, I found a ladder near the airport’s fuel tanks and began to refuel the Cessna.
I sighed when I saw the pay-at-pump machine and missed the days of easy convenience. Now, however many hundreds of gallons were waiting in the airport’s fuel tank would wait in there forever. Six plastic containers later, the Cessna was refueled and ready to go. I checked the oil and frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
“Jesus.” I dropped the dipstick. After I picked it up, I turned and scowled at Clutch. “Don’t sneak up on me like that. Trying to give me a heart attack?”
“I didn’t sneak up on you.”
“You didn’t mean to, but you did,” I said. “It’s that Ranger thing. Griz does it, too. You guys are just like sneaky little kittens right before they pounce.”
Clutch straightened. “I am
not
a kitten.”
“Kitten or not,” I said. “Can you find me some oil? We’re running a couple quarts low already.”
“Only if you promise to never call me ‘kitten’ again.”
I thought about it for an exaggerated moment. “Okay, I promise.”
Clutch smiled. “I’ll find you some oil. What kind do you need?”
I shrugged.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll find you something.”