The Common Cold (Book 2): A Zombie Chronicle-Cabin Fever (13 page)

“How did he sound? Did he say if he had any problems?” Tom
asked; his friend and protégé was important to him and so he was clucking
around like a worried father.

“He sounded positively normal; couldn’t detect anything in
his voice but he used all the right words.”

“That’s something I guess,” Tom agreed.

“About eight hours he said. It’s getting lighter outside
indicating the cloud is thinning some, so perhaps the front is moving away. By
the time he’s refuelled it should have gone past so perhaps he can get straight
in here. Of course it’s heading towards him so he’ll have to fly through it.”

“He is a good IFR pilot so that should be doable for him.”

IFR, or Instrument Flight Rules, was a complex business of
flying using only cockpit instrumentation without reference to the world outside.
In a plane with which the pilot was fully familiar it required concentration
and was tiring, especially if there was no autopilot function; this was why it
was flown mostly with two pilots, at least commercially or in the military; but
in an aircraft in which he’d only had a few hours total time it was a serious
gamble and so Tom hoped BB would put down rather than try and soldier on into
the oncoming blizzard. If he crashed there would be no hope of rescue and all
of them would certainly perish.

Looking out of the window Tom watched as the snow kept on
coming down. He was always amazed at how big and perfect the flakes were up
here. He enjoyed watching the snow settle, especially as now it had the added benefit
of hiding the bodies of the infected. In another twenty four hours the corpses they
had spent time piling off to one side would become like granite in their frozen
hardness and would remain an immovable mass until the spring; right now though the
snow gave the land a pure and untainted appeal and for a moment it was almost possible
to forget their predicament.

“Okay everyone, can we settle down please?” Mike
began,
a sense of urgency rising in him - it would soon be
dark making what they had yet to do impossible. “We need to allocate accommodation
early enough today that we can get the other two cabins we’ve agreed upon
heated up. The only way we can survive with any level of security is to remain
in a smaller area so we can watch over each other. It appears to me that Cliff
and Angela seem to have gone their own way and have set up in one of the small
cabins by the other lake, but I think they are wrong. As the days go by it is
likely we are going to be visited by more and more of these poor walking dead and
we’ll have to deal with them. We need to work out a plan for doing just that.”

“I think Cliff has had some sort of psychotic break,” Sandy
offered, missing Mike’s point and going off at a tangent. “Poor bastard, I
can’t blame him, no-one should have to see their family die like that. I guess
if we try to be as understanding as we can of his situation, he’ll come around
again in time. I am worried about his remaining child though.”

“Beverley,” Laurie said.

“Sorry, what?”
Sandy asked,
confused.

“I think the little girl’s name is Beverley. That was the
name Cliff kept repeating when he got back from the rescue mission - before he
walked out with Angela. Unless it was his wife he was talking about.”

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” Danny offered.

“Sorry guys,” Mike interjected; frustration was evident in
his voice as he tried to control the conversation as it jumped the rails and powered
off in a non-productive direction. “Can we focus on what we need to do? The
Cliff situation can wait a while.”

“Why don’t we start by listing what we know about these
creatures so everyone can be armed with all the facts?” Tom suggested. “You’ve
all had some differing experiences so we need to put together something we all
understand and can work with.”

“Good idea, Tom,” Rob replied. “I’ll go first. I think they
are dead. We’ve seen more than one person come back after what looks like
dying. Some were bitten; some just seemed to have turned.”

“Does that make them zombies?” Janet suggested.

“Zombies don’t exist,” Mike retorted, unwilling to believe
the obvious.

“Well, they’re something. Why don’t we call them zombies?
Just for want of a name.”

“Not a bad idea, Jan,” Danny said smiling at her suggestion.
“They sure aren’t alive. Not like us at any rate.”

“There also appears to be two types,” Rob added. “The main
type is lethargic but aggressive. Don’t get trapped by large numbers of them.
We’ve all seen what they can do.”

“Then there’s the cheetah,” Danny added. “They scare the bejesus
out of me. Kill them as far away from you as you can, their speed is frightening
and they don’t seem to get out of breath, not that I think they breathe.”

“And now it appears the cheetah type can think and reason to
an extent.
Unless it’s just a low animal type of cunning.”

“Well, they do seem to be able to set up an ambush.”

“No denying that,” Mike agreed. “And the last thing is that
they can survive being frozen.”

“No, there is something else and it’s really important,” Rob
added. “They can’t smell us if we use aftershave or perfume to cover our own odour.”

“Of course,” Mike nodded.

“I think that if we spray it around our windows and doors it
may mask our presence to them. Maybe keep us a little safer at night.”

“We need to set up some sort of alarm system,” Joshua spoke
for the first time. Up to now he seemed to think rather than talk.

“What are you suggesting?” Mike asked.

“We need to sort something, tins on strings, anything that
will make noise until I can set up something using electronic sensors. Your
genny
should support that. We can always get another one purely
for security if we need to.”

“Okay. That sounds like a good idea.”

“Just a thought,” Danny interrupted, “but shouldn’t we
allocate responsibilities based upon skills?”

“Really?”
Mike asked.
“Responsibilities?”

“Yeah.
Think about it. Just like
that helicopter is your responsibility because of your skills; we are all dependent
upon you for that. If we all had specific responsibilities it would make sure
nothing is left undone because we assume someone else is dealing with it. I
think it will make us more of a team and lead us toward some sort of common end
objective. And just in case any of you are thinking I’m vying for the role of
leader, I’m really not. It’s the last thing I want.”

Ethel spoke up, clearly liking what Danny was suggesting. “I
think the young man makes a good point. Otherwise we won’t get anything done;
we’ll just end up talking about it. We have to be responsible for each other
and make sure we each do our personal best to keep each other safe. All I know
is that the world has changed for the foreseeable future and it frightens me to
death. Responsibility will help hold us together.”

The room was silent as they contemplated her entreaty. Joshua
squeezed her hand.

“I agree,” Laurie added, her background as a governmental organiser
jumping at the prospect of something she was good at. “I reckon we have some
great skills here and if we each focus on specific areas we can make ourselves much
safer from those damaged souls and ensure we have enough food, medicine and
other consumables to survive.”

 
“Of course,” Tom
smiled. “We have among us a woman of just the right skills for our particular
predicament. Laurie works, sorry, worked for the Office of Emergency Management
in Denver. She was responsible for logistics and tracking of supplies. I vote
her into the role of locating suitable supplies for the group.”

“Damn,” Bill Mitchum exclaimed, almost looking directly at
her; he had placed the bandages back over his eyes, and although he was getting
his vision back, he chose to leave the bandages on until BB returned with his
wife, the trauma doctor. “I think you’ve probably just become the most valuable
person in the group, Laurie.”

“Blimey, Laurie.
I had no idea,”
Janet said in awe. “I’ll be happy to work with you on that.”

“Hey, Rob,” Danny spoke. “Do you think they need a data
centre to manage all this?” Danny’s biggest fear was that he, and people like
him, were not in a strong position to survive when computers went to the bottom
of the class as the most useless things on earth. IT workers were likely to follow
them to the back of the room.

“Looks like you and I have just become security guards,” Rob
agreed. “Maybe we can become problem solvers. After all, that’s what the job
was actually about.”

“Maybe.
Have H&K, will travel.
I like the sound of that.”

“Hey, guys. Don’t underestimate guard duty right now,” Bill
suggested. “I need ya.”

“Okay. While we’re thinking about our skills I suggest we
start moving into the other cabins,” Mike urged. “Ah, just thought of a job for
you boys. We will need a latrine digging. With the large number of us the
chemical toilets aren’t going to hold out for much longer and I think we ought
to reserve their use for the ladies.”

“Shit,” Rob mumbled. “We’ve gone from IT consultants to guards
and ditch diggers in three days flat.”

“I don’t think the apocalypse is panning out too well for
us,” Danny agreed.

*

BB had been watching as the snow-laden cold front rushed towards
them. Mike had been right, it was a biggie. It looked like it would be a
close-run thing for them to make their previous refuelling point Charlie before
the weather beat them there.

“Zoë, switch to the FLIR and tell me what you can see. We’re
about ten minutes out.”

Peering at the screen she could see nothing. Not even the
deer wanted to be out in the path of the upcoming storm. Of course it didn’t
mean to say there wasn’t anything there; they knew for a fact the walking
corpses didn’t have a heat signature.

“Nada.
Are we going to make it
before the storm?” Snowflakes could be seen flashing past them as they sped
towards the landing site.

“By the skin of our teeth, I’d say. You okay back there?” he
asked, switching to the cabin intercom.

“We’re okay. A bit cold but okay.”

“You Californians, always cold.
We’re about ten minutes out from the refuelling point. We’re definitely
stopping ’
cos
the storm is coming in fast.”

“Is there shelter down there?” Kimberley asked, a little
anxiety in her voice telling of her concerns.

“The site is surrounded by trees so we’ll be out of any wind
the front might bring. We’ll stay on board and I’ll keep the engines running as
long as possible to keep us warm and prevent snow from covering us.”

“How long will it last?”

“Well, it’s a cold front so unless it has changed it should only
last about a couple of hours unless it slows down. Then we’ll be on our way
again.” He made sure his voice remained upbeat; it was a trick of the airline
business - Rule One, never let the passengers know the truth. Deep inside him
he felt more than a little anxious as he knew how much snow could fall in a
single go in this area. It was the main reason he would keep the engines
running. If the helicopter became covered in snow it was entirely possible they
might not get the chance to dig it out between storms, leaving them stranded in
the middle of nowhere until spring. In that event they really wouldn’t survive.

“Zoë, I want to refuel before the snow sets in in earnest.
If it comes down too heavily it might prove impossible to get to the bowser
once the storm’s past.”

“Sure, we’ve done it before and there should still be plenty
for us to take on.”

The clearing was directly ahead now, slightly to the east
and below Mount
Belknap
which stood in its barren
beauty at just over twelve thousand feet above sea level. There was a thin
covering of snow as it was just beginning to settle; half an hour from now the
peak would disappear under brilliant white, new coverage. The clearing appeared
to have remained untouched, apparently nothing had changed since they were last
there earlier in the day, and more pleasingly they could see or detect no
movement at all. With luck they had slotted all the opposition last time they
had landed.

The ground had a light dusting of snow as they put down
within easy refuelling distance of the tanks. Zoë disconnected herself from the
comms systems and jumped down to the ground. With the door open BB realised
just how cold it was outside as all warmth disappeared in a moment; he was sure
he heard a gasp from Kimberley as the freezing air struck deep into her
unaccustomed lungs. The instruments told him it was ten below, and coming into
contact with it was bracing to say the least. Taking off his bone dome, he too
leapt out and put some stones around the wheels to act as chocks.

Poking his head back in, he spoke to Kimberley and Emily.

“Stay inside with the doors pulled to but left unlocked.
Make sure your mobile phones, if you still have them, are switched off. We are
going to refuel with the engines on so just stay alert in case we need your
attention for anything.”

Closing the cockpit door once more he ran over to Zoë who
had begun to feed out the fuel hose. He grabbed the yellow earth wire and
pulled it out and over to the ’copter and clipped it to a strut.

“Damn it’s freezing out there,” Zoë complained. Her teeth
were chattering significantly, her speech barely discernible.

“Fuckin’ A,” BB agreed, doing his best not to shake too much
as the cold bit hard into his body. The temperature must have dropped since he
last looked at the reading; to his fingers and nose it felt like absolute zero.
Their eyes on stalks keeping a sharp look out, the task took about twenty excruciatingly
long minutes to complete, each movement becoming more difficult as time
progressed; their hands went numb in spite of their gloves and attempts at rubbing
them together did nothing to alleviate the situation. Their faces and
especially their lips were turning blue in the bitterly cold air; the snow was
coming down hard now causing the fuel hose to disappear under the blanket on
the ground between them and the bowser.