Pandemic Z (Book 1): Pandemic Z Page 10

  “Sherri?” Emily asked carefully.

  “I don’t want to touch him…” Sherri whispered with clear fear in her tone.

  “Sherri, quietly back step,” Lena said as she watched Sherri closely.

  Sherri looked tired and uncomfortable. “Why is he waiting?” She cried softly.

  Fat, salty droplets trickled slowly down her well-cared-for face. The mascara that had been perfectly applied to her eyelashes now crowded under her eyes, and faint black lines streamed as the tears continued to flow. She slowly, silently tried to wipe the black streaks from her face, and her white sleeve became smeared with small black spots which evolved into larger smudges. Sherri gave up after looking at the ruined sleeve, and the tears fell from her face as she remained frozen in her position.

  “Sherri, you’re doing great,” Lena told her. Lena had been in these situations before. She had been trained to remain calm at times like these, especially when other people were involved.

  This is just another one of those times, she reminded herself.

  “Sherri, you need to listen to me,” Lena urged. Lena knew the first step of reassuring anyone in danger was to use their name continuously. Sherri had frozen still.

  “Listen to her, Sherri,” Emily said, but the other woman didn’t move.

  “I want to help him,” Sherri sobbed.

  Barry had successfully calmed the mob to a lulling whisper. Many other passengers were interested in Sherri and Sunshine like it was a sadistic fight between human and beast. They watched closely, waiting for either human or zombie to make a move. Even Jack and Dick tolerated each other so they could intently pay attention to the show a few feet from where they were standing.

  Sherri breathed in and wiped the black smudges from her face. She straightened her crumpled uniform and took a small step forward.

  “NO!” Lena desperately cried at Sherri, but the woman ignored her.

  “Please stop.” Lena was out of ideas. Lena stood and took a few steps towards the flight attendant and outstretched zombie. Sunshine had found the direction of the noise and was pawing away at the air, trying to reach the sounds.

  “Stay where you are. If you move, you die.” A strange man made his way to the front of the crowd.

  The mob of scared onlookers parted like the biblical Red Sea to let the important-looking man through. Sherri froze where she was and didn’t dare even breathe in fear of angering the official man. He had an oversized mustache and a full grey beard that reached up past his ears and then just stopped. His head was completely bald, and it shined strongly in the glow of the airplane’s lights. He had a smart uniform on. Lena tried to make out what uniform it was and why everyone had suddenly stopped at his command.

  They listen to Beardy Weirdy, but not to me? Lena scoffed in her head. I was just trying to help. We don’t need two zombies!

  The smart man took another step forward, and Lena immediately knew why they had all frozen in fear. The bearded man had a SIG Sauer P229 firearm resting at his side. He pursed his lips and took his time, looking at the array of frightened guests.

  How the honest fuck did someone get a gun on board? I can’t even bring my bottle of hand sanitizer, and he can waltz on with a bloody firearm? She silently judged the bearded man harshly. He looked unamused by the events. You could at least look like you’re facing a REAL FUCKING ZOMBIE. Her facial expression remained stoic as she looked at the man with the gun.

  He took another small step forward, and the crowd slipped back to a large babbling mass behind him. His badge glittered in the airplane’s soft morning lights. Lena squinted to identify the words and logo on his shiny badge.

  He isn’t a police officer, she mused to herself. Lena could picture a bobby standing where the bearded man stood, his rounded helmet brushing the ceiling of the plane’s compartment. What a funny sight that would be.

  Nor are you military. She had not only served in the military but had worked with the military extensively and knew all the different uniforms they wore. Even down to the fancy uniforms they would wear only when royalty visited and inspected their ranks.

  When she had been in Afghanistan, the Earl of Sandwich had visited the sandy outpost to experience the life the soldiers lived. He had been a kind man with little sense of humor, but Lena had reasoned that he got an awful lot of teasing for just being the Earl of Sandwich.

  The official in front of her stared at Lena with a condescending look. She hadn’t even said anything, and the man looked ready to kill. Has he not figured out the zombie on Row 59 yet?

  Lena stared right back at him—no one could intimidate her just by looking. She smoothed out her top and fixed her simple yet elegant necklace that had fallen to the side. She looked at the uniformed man again to read his badge.

  Oh, she thought. She immediately knew why the man held such an important presence in the crowd of passengers on the flight. He brushed off the shiny badge as if asserting his authority. The shiny letters that circled the badge proudly read: Air Marshall.

  Chapter Twelve

  The air marshal came closer. His steps were small but proud, and he kept a hand close to the gun.

  “Sir, there’s a zombie down on Row 59. He’s still strap—” Lena began to explain to the marshal.

  “I can handle this,” he snapped.

  Sure you can. She rolled her eyes at the air marshal’s brash comments. I’d like to see you punch the lights out of Sunshine.

  “Sir, I know the situation. I can help,” she protested, but the air marshal pushed by Lena and faced Barry.

  “You should listen to her. We were in the row together with Sunshine.” He tried to be brave.

  “Get out of the way,” the air marshal hissed.

  Barry hung his head in shame and stepped carefully out of the air marshal’s way. It was evident that nothing could be done to stop him from approaching the uneasy zombie. The air marshal was a few rows from Sunshine, and he chewed slightly on his lip in concentration.

  “All right,” he began slowly.

  He continued his slow, but firm pace toward Sunshine. The zombie was still caught in the seat, and his oversized form bulged out of the row. He made continuous grunting noises and snarled through gritted teeth. Sunshine looked like he was ready to take a bite out of his unsuspecting victim.

  “Don’t go near the infected,” the air marshal said, but then he stepped closer to the infected.

  Why would he order everyone not to go near Sunshine and then do it himself?!

  “Don’t touch him,” he added.

  The air marshal was perilously close to Sunshine. Lena looked down the aisle towards him and sighed, shaking her head. She had a bad feeling something awful was about to happen.

  “We’re about halfway to our destination. We need to remain calm and civil until we reach our destination.” The air marshal tried to calm the passengers around him.

  “Halfway?” someone said, evidently shocked.

  “We have another three hours with him!” Hawaiian Shirt gasped.

  “We have to be uncomfortable for the rest of the flight?”

  “Please calm down!” the air marshal shouted.

  “Good luck calming them,” Barry muttered under his breath.

  Lena smiled over in Barry’s direction.

  “Settle down,” the air marshal tried again. Finally, the eager and frightened crowd settled down and became silent enough to hear the air marshal guide them. “First off, it’s only three hours until we reach the UK,” he corrected Hawaiian Shirt’s comments.

  “We will continue on our predetermined route.” The air marshal seemed like he knew what was going on.

  He may have been trained to calm a panicked crowd, but Lena doubted he was ever trained to calm a crowd because a zombie was in the same pressurized tin can as they were.

  “What will happen when we get there?” Dick asked.

  “Will we even get there?” Jack asked, shooting a harsh look at Dick Francis.

  “Right no
w, the UK is on lockdown,” the air marshal replied calmly.

  “Dude, it’s like all the action movies!” Dude added unnecessarily.

  “If we remain calm and stay away from the danger, we will be fine,” the air marshal said.

  He made it sound like Sunshine was a hiccup they could easily ignore for three hours. The aggressive zombie was close to breaking free of his seat belt bands, and it seemed unlikely he would stay put for the remaining time on the flight.

  “Got any duct tape?” Barry asked quietly, motioning to the air marshal and Sunshine.

  “For the air marshal or for Sunshine?” Lena asked in a hushed tone.

  “Both. One to shut him up and the other to tie the zombie down,” Barry replied, forcing a smile.

  “I will keep you updated as I know things. Captain Pertus is still keeping in close contact with the Heathrow Airport, and we will be okay.” The air marshal seemed to like ending his sentences with an encouraging statement.

  The passengers looked confused, and it took a moment for the words to sink in. It wasn’t rocket science they heard, but there was a lot of distance left to travel.

  The man who had been recording the whole thing looked like he had just recorded the discovery of something monumental. Dick Francis and Jack Enright spoke calmly to each other. They both seemed concerned instead of angry like they had been before. The mother and two teenagers discussed the events. The flight crew consoled Sherri who had begun crying uncontrollably. Emily dabbed her tears with a mascara-stained tissue.

  The plane had returned to somewhat normal, and even Sunshine wasn’t kicking up too much of a fuss. There was just the occasional grunt or groan to remind passengers that he was real. The air marshal nodded at his success and turned away from Sunshine.

  He made his way through the calming mob toward premiere class, and he had a small smile on his face as if he was pleased with himself and the temporary outcome for the problem.

  “Sir,” Lena said, firmly planting her feet in the wandering air marshal’s path.

  “Ah, it’s you,” he said, looking unimpressed.

  “Yes, I want to explain the situation to you so you understand and can help the rest of the passengers.”

  “There is no need for that. They are fine as they are.”

  “The calmness is temporary, sir, like the calm before the storm,” she replied urgently.

  “Ma’am, I don’t know who you are, but I assure you the situation is under control.” His beard moved gracefully as he talked. It was well manicured and neatly trimmed.

  “Sir…” she began to protest.

  “Ma’am, please take a seat and stay out of this!” he firmly said.

  The words had only just left his mouth when Hawaiian Shirt came lolloping down the aisle. His arms outstretched towards anything he could grab, and he snarled as spit flew from his mouth.

  Hawaiian Shirt is a zombie. How? He wasn’t anywhere near Sunshine. He couldn’t have been bitten.

  “Sir, you should…” Lena pointed, trying to warn the air marshal.

  There wasn’t enough time for Lena to push the air marshal out of the way, and Hawaiian Shirt zombie was only three feet from the air marshal. Two feet… A foot… Mere inches…

  The zombie’s outstretched hands found the rough material of the air marshal’s blue jacket, and his face turned excited at the prospect of having a good meal.

  The air marshal froze for a moment but quickly recovered. He tried to pull free of the zombie, but Hawaiian Shirt had too tight of a grip. Panic overcame the once confident air marshal, and he tried again to turn around and face the figure who was gripping his uniform. Once again, he failed.

  The zombie didn’t like the air marshal fighting back, and he sneered maliciously, baring his powerful teeth. The air marshal couldn’t see what was happening, but the expressions on Lena’s face said it all.

  “No!” she cried out.

  The zombie pulled the air marshal closer to his opened mouth. The smell that came from his hanging jaw was atrocious, but that didn’t stop him from swinging his head down and sinking his teeth into the fresh, soft flesh of the air marshal’s neck.

  The entire encounter didn’t even last a minute as Lena watched in horror as the bite radius widened on the air marshal’s neck. He immediately reached for his gun and whipped it around, firing arbitrarily at anything and everything. Passengers had to duck and dive out of the line of fire.

  Lena tried to get Hawaiian Shirt zombie off the air marshal, but they were thrashing around too much, and Lena could get injured by either one.

  The air marshal screamed like a maniac as he fired, trying so desperately to hit the zombie who had attacked him.

  “Stop bloody shooting, dude!” Dude had ducked between the seats where he and his Hawaiian shirt-clad friend had just been.

  “Stop shooting the damn gun!” Dick had turned a pale shade and was hiding under an empty row of seats.

  “You’re putting us in more danger!” Jack Enright said. He hadn’t ducked under any rows but was trying to keep other passengers from panicking too much.

  “Stay down, Levi. Kate, you too… Kate? Where are you?” the mother with the eager kids looked frightened as she tried to find her other child.

  “Mummy I’m here! Save me.” The young girl was wedged under the row a few feet from the scared mother.

  “Stay put, Kate. Stay where you are, okay? Do not move,” the mother warned. The kid nodded and crawled back under the row, cupping her ears to block the gunfire.

  Barry squealed loudly and ducked behind a chair cushion. “Good as a floatation device. I wonder if it’ll work as a bulletproof vest, too.”

  “Stop!” Lena didn’t want to touch the infected air marshal, but she had to get the gun from him, or they’d all die.

  There was another shot, and the bullet embedded itself in the left leg of the oversized, grotesque Hawaiian Shirt zombie. It had no impact on the zombie who still remained standing, taking up all the space in the small, low hanging area of economy class.

  Lena nudged the air marshal between shots, and he fell to the side easily. It was like pushing jelly with a fork. He had no strength to stand, and she wondered if the transformation had already begun.

  As the air marshal toppled over, Lena grabbed the firearm from his relaxing fingers. She sprung back into a defensive stance and smiled. She was ready.

  “Bite on this, motherfucker!” Lena said as she fired.

  Joel had said the infected figures would only die by a blow to the head. The bullet soared from the barrel and penetrated the zombie’s cranium. It embedded itself in the pinkish slime that used to be a brain. The zombie looked stunned before crashing heavily to the floor of the aisle. Blood stained the surrounding carpet.

  “They’re going to need some new carpet, eh?” Barry said as he turned to where Lena had once stood. “Lena?” he asked curiously.

  The air marshal was gushing blood, and the wound on his neck was getting worse. He gasped and panted heavily from the loss of blood.

  Lena took off her cardigan. “Here, use this and apply pressure,” she said softly, offering the cardigan to the wounded air marshal.

  He forced a small smile and tried to find the strength to tie the cardigan around the worst wounds. Lena helped him into the closest seat. He forced another smile after he’d finished wrapping the cardigan around his chest and neck, trying to stop the free flow of blood.

  “I’m Lena Tuner. I’m a member of the United Kingdom Special Forces,” she told the air marshal.

  Lena still held the gun. With the state that the air marshal was in, she didn’t want to let him have it back. She flipped the safety on the gun. The air marshal looked at her and cleared his tired throat.

  “It all makes sense now.” He wheezed. “I should’ve listened…” His voice trailed off.

  “Sir, its okay…” Lena tried to console the man, but deep inside her head where no one could hear her thoughts, she scolded the air marshal for being so
stupid.

  “Strap me in,” he stated flatly. “If I end up like them, then…” He let his voice fade like before.

  Lena nodded and reached for the seatbelt. The air marshal wasn’t as large as Sunshine or Hawaiian Shirt, so interlocking the two sides of the seatbelt wasn’t such a hard task. She pulled the belt snugly around the air marshal and looked hopelessly at the transforming man.

  “He needs a doctor!” one of the jersey guys called out.

  “Is anyone a doctor?” another of them asked.

  “This man is wounded, and he needs help.”

  “Help him!”

  “Someone help the poor dude!” Dude was sheepishly peering between two seats.

  “We need a doctor!” Sherri, the emotional flight attendant, had joined in the search.

  “I am… but not the one you’re looking for.” Jack Enright sadly said.

  Dick Francis cleared his throat nervously. “I am.”

  Jack shot a confused look over at Dick in disbelief. “You’re a…” he paused for a long time.

  “Medical doctor?” Dick finished the sentence and nodded. He shuffled into the aisle and quickly made his way to the bleeding air marshal. His face was grim as he knelt beside the dying man.

  “Don’t touch me!” the air marshal firmly warned.

  Dick was surprised at the air marshal’s response and tried again to investigate the wounds.

  “I said not to touch me,” the air marshal snapped again.

  “How do you intend for me to help you if I can’t ascertain the severity of your wounds?” Dick asked, he sounded half sincere and half terrified of the situation he had tried desperately to escape from.

  “I’ve been bitten.” The air marshal sighed. “I have no idea how it’s spread, but I don’t want to infect anyone else.”

  Dick nodded and bit nervously at his lower lip. “Well, my diagnosis is that you’re severely injured.”

  “No bloody shit, Doctor Obvious.” The air marshal forced a laugh but stopped when the bleeding quickened.

  “No need to be sarcastic,” Dick retorted. “You’re bleeding out badly.”