The Deepest Red (41 page)

“Our first training session I told you, you needed to run more,” he remarks.

Jay takes hold of Carter’s arm moving him out of the sight of the windows. Carter doesn’t acknowledge the statement just continues to focus on his breathing.

I take the other side of the window opposite from Lonnie.

“Do you see anything?” I ask.

He shakes his head and tries to unnoticedly peer out. Concern causes his brow to wrinkle.

“I don’t think we were seen,” he whispers, not looking at me.

I glance over at Carter who has gotten control over his breathing.

“I hate running,” he mumbles standing with Daniel and Bryan.

They all have knives gleaming from their hands as they wait for instructions. Jay stands guard at the door with a large blade similar in design to Clover’s, his bow strategically propped against a wall near by.

“Here they come,” Lonnie breathes.

For some reason, in my mind I picture a massive group of cloaked figures with unnerving crow masks covering up their disfigured faces. When I lean forward slightly, I find instead a horde of infected. Their broken bodies stumble across the uneven terrain. Many of them are adorn with torn and ragged clothing while others wear the same gown as the woman who had killed Tom.

We stay frozen as two dozen infected careen through the trees. Their movements are erratic and inconsistent. A thin man wearing ripped blue jeans comes to an abrupt halt, swinging his head in our direction. His skin is dark and caked with mud. I hold my breath but a minute later the creature turns toward the rest of the horde and continues walking. I let out a heavy sigh as the infected bodies disappear from site.

“We shouldn’t leave this building for awhile,” I whisper, “last time there were stragglers behind a larger batch.”

Lonnie nods his head and slides down the wall to sit on the floor. We wait silently hidden away in case other infected pass by. I prop myself against the wall as Jay takes up position at the window. He stares intensely into the wooded terrain not saying a word.

“Why are they traveling together?” I whisper out into the silent room hoping for an answer.

Carter who is drawing on the dirty floor, straightens.

“Their own noises attract each other,” He suggests.

“Then why don’t they attack each other?” Daniel asks, frowning at the pictures drawn into the dirt. Carter shrugs in response.

“We killed one before we found Millie in the red zone,” Lonnie says, tapping the rotting floor. “It was trying to catch a beaver, kept ripping into a dam not realizing that the animal was already gone- swam away.” He makes a wavy motion with his hand then lets it drop. “I think they want to kill anything that doesn’t smell like death.”

He glances at me, sorrow lining his features making him appear a lot older than his age.

“Its God’s judgement,” Jay murmurs from the window.

“No,” Bryan responds firmly. “God doesn’t turn his beloved children into diseased murdering creatures. If you are to be judged, you must first know your crime. If not, then what is the point?” He lowers his voice. “No, this is a manifestation of our sin. We did this to ourselves.”

We all remain quiet attempting to process our own thoughts.

“Well, I’m not a philosopher,” Lonnie states standing up. “You see anything?” He whispers at Jay.

“No, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t out there. We only have one damn window.” He puts his knife away grabbing for his bow. “Carter, why don’t you lead the way,” Jay says smugly.

“Fine,” Carter retorts, standing up and heading toward the door.

As we move into formation, readying for an attack, imagines of the infected rushing the door surface. I squash down the thought trying to remain calm. Carter opens the door, knife in hand and steps outside. No ripped and bleeding infected reach for us as we exit the old barn. Daniel ahead of me breaths a sigh of relief.

“Here we go again,” he murmurs to himself. 

Hours pass as we continue our journey to the crashed plane full of supplies. Along the way, we take down five of the infected wandering among the trees. My heart races with each kill as I ignore the fact that these creatures at one point were very much alive like me. The sadness of survivors turning into walking death leaves me slow to respond so I bury the thoughts away until later when safety will allow me to mourn.

My feet ache when we finally reach the plane.

“Be careful where you step,” Lonnie addresses the group. “What we came for is in the belly of the aircraft. Bryan, I want you to climb one of these trees and yell if you see anything.”

“Sure.” Bryan replies quickly looking around for a low branch.

When Lonnie steps aside unblocking my view,  I stumble at the site before me. I’ve never seen an airplane in real life only in photographs. The whole scene seems surreal. I stand motionless and in awe, noticing as many details as I can.

The plane sits tilted as if the wing has been caught on a neighboring tree. Kudzu wraps lovingly around the metal, holding the large object into place. The greenery blankets most of the ground and a majority of the plane as if wanting to shield this tragedy from our eyes.  As I look past the tail, I can make out a clearing in the otherwise densely wooded area. I assume that when it crashed the hot steel ripped through the earth tilling up the world around it. I turn my attention back to the plane. A section that would hold the cockpit lays separate from the rest of the wreckage. Kudzu completely envelops the separated piece only allowing the shattered windshield to be viewable.

“Pretty Cool, huh?” Lonnie leans closer to me. “Jay is taking point. He’ll guard us while we fill the bags.”

I shake my head breaking my daze.

“What?” I ask.

Lonnie scowls, “Just follow me.”

I slowly walk behind him through the kudzu covered ground, Daniel close behind.

“Carter, I need you to kill some of this stuff.” Lonnie motions to the slender vines. “If we don’t hack some of this kudz away, we won’t be able to find this place next year.” I catch Lonnie’s eye and he shrugs. “The plant grows fast.”

“The aircraft wasn’t like this last year?” I question.

I glance around at the kudzu and take a step.

“Oh, it was but we cut plants back. Took about three days,” Jay says, watching the surrounding woods. “We won’t be doing that this trip. Not with the infected everywhere.”

He lifts his bow, poised for any danger.

“Wow,” I mumble, taking another careful step.

My feet disappear inside the batch of thin leaves with each step I take. The unseen ground catches my advancing feet as I worry about snakes hidden underneath the sea of green.

Lonnie, Daniel and I make our way toward the destroyed plane. The closer we get the more details I collect. Suddenly, I want to be as far away as possible- back home or shut tight within the confined space of the furnace room. The idea of fleeing vibrates through my skin but I force myself forward.

The aircraft looks as if it was wrenched in half.  Looking up, I see the first row of passenger seats. Debri cakes each one. They are faded and torn with a strange device hanging over just one of the chairs.
To help them breath, maybe?
Wires jut out from the plane’s broken floor along with strips of twisted metal. I squint from the sun and notice a human bone lying exposed off the jagged edge. I gasp as a strong wind rustles through the narrow space causing it to wobble. I watch in silent horror as the bone rolls off the edge, a small strip of clothing following close behind.

“Here we are.” I hear Lonnie say as the bone disappears beneath the bed of leaves.

“Lonnie.”

I steady myself and focus on where he is bending down in front of a pile of stacked luggage. Daniel standing off to the side, having watched the bone drop, projects a stance of apprehension.

“Have you been up there?” I ask and cut my eyes up to the empty seats.

Sadness enters Lonnie’s features.

“You don’t want to go up there, Millie. Nothing but-” He stops abruptly and removes a piece of luggage. “You just don’t want to go up there.” 

He repeats brushing off a dry clump of mud from a small piece of luggage- a hard case displaying a cartoon girl wearing a crown. I take a step toward him and gasp at a distinct crunching sound. I glance down not able to see what lies beneath the kudzu. The idea of my foot on top of human bones begin to freak me out.

“Hey,” Lonnie says, recognizing the expression of panic on my face. “It’s probably a piece of the plane. Come help me with this.”

I push back the bile rising to my throat and hunch down beside him. He removes another piece of disgusting sour smelling luggage.

“This is where we enter.” A brief grin lights his face. “You see this is one of my better ideas.”

I roll my eyes at the familiar words.

Lonnie smiles at the gesture and says, “Every airplane when manufactured was created with a compartment in the belly of the machine to hold passenger’s possessions. It was a sort of luxury for those flying, not to have to share their foot space with a heavy bag.”

He hands me a hard case box with wheels. I quickly place the item beside me, eyes widening at the darkness where the bag was.

He continues, “When we found this place last year, I was amazed this whole underside wasn’t smashed into nothing.” Lonnie clears away a few more pieces of rotten luggage, handing them to Daniel. “Hard to believe when they traveled they brought so many large suitcases full of clothes and useless stuff. Even with all the supplies under the plane, they still had a compartment above them where they sat to store more.” He shakes his head absentmindedly and takes a moment to reach into his supply bag. “Anyway, it’s a perfect hiding place.”

Pulling out a solar lantern he steps into the darkness under the plane. I crouch low staring into the dark void when a hand appears and grabs my arm. I am pulled into the hidden compartment. Lonnie chuckles and turns on the lantern.

“Ta-da.”

He spins while holding the odd light illuminating the vast space. I turn on him and smack his shoulder with my hand.

“Don’t do that again, Jackass,” I say.

“Oh calm down and look around. Pretty cool, huh?”

I push an escaped strand of hair behind my ear and glare at him.

“Millie.” Serious laces his tone. “Look around.”

His shy grin grows as I realize what is in front of me.

“Oh my,” I say, taking in the multitude.

The remains of a hard metal floor is crushed into barren soil, the kudzu not being able to grow without the sun’s light. I step on to the hard surface of the plane’s cargo hold. The walls are a dirty white smeared with mud and grime. Other than that the room is perfect, not reflecting how the plane had indeed crashed.

“You outdid yourself, Lonnie.” I say as I register what all he and the others had accomplished- one more thing to add to the list of things Tom never told her.

In the dimness, piles of blankets, clothing, books, first aid supplies, bags of rice, jars of honey, sugar and salt are all stacked together in organized plastic containers. My eyes scan the remaining areas I can see in the soft light.

“Yeah, it took awhile but now it’s a one stop shop. Won’t take us near as long to gather supplies like it did before.”

I stand amazed.

“The idea was to make life easy for anyone of us to come, in any season.” Lonnie says, stepping up beside me. He views the rows of supplies proudly. “Too bad we can’t take back everything with us at one time.”

I nod, “Kind of wish we could.”

We remain silent a moment longer until Lonnie begins to remove empty bags from his supply bag.

“Let’s get started,” he says with a grin.

I begin to fill up one of the fabric bags, attempting to fit as much as I can inside. My hand rest on a strange shaped bottle.

“What’s this?” I question and hold up the glass so Lonnie can distinguish the outline.

“That, is something referred to as hard liquor. Old Tom found a few cases. The liquid is the only thing that can disinfect a wound and burn like a fire.”

At his words, I hold the bottle back away from my body. Lonnie snickers at me.

“You can drink it too. At least, Tom said you could.”

I study the continents as I slosh it back and forth.

“Why?” I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.

“Well, as far as I know-” Before he finished the statement, shouts ricochet off the hard surfaces of the cargo hold.

Chapter Twenty-Three