“We have to assume they did.”
A familiar sound broke the silence of the office and Mitch bent his head back around the corner. A small transport helicopter was coming in and flying low. It slowed its approach and he could tell it was preparing to land. “We’re about to have company.”
“That would be Vickers,” Maggie stated.
“Okay, we need to set up a welcoming party for him,” Hatcher said. He turned to Candy. “Grab the kids and go around by the back doors. Stay low, stay quiet, and stay out of sight until we have Vickers.”
“Roger that.” Candy grabbed each child by the hand.
Mitch ducked low and headed toward the front doors of the station. As they approached the doors and began to take position, Mitch turned and looked at Maggie. “You with us on this?”
She had her back turned to him. When she turned around, she held a .45 caliber pistol and was raising it. “I can’t be a part of your little revolt, Richardson.”
Richard shook his head as he tried to think of another way off the mountain. “The only ways that we can get out of here is the county road or the highway. Unless you can sprout wings and fly!” he shouted sarcastically.
Bill slowed the Buick and stared at Richard in the rearview. “Anybody up this way have a plane?”
“What?” Richard asked, not sure he heard him correctly.
“Does anybody who lives out here own a plane?” Bill asked again, more slowly and deliberately.
Richard thought a moment, slowly shaking his head. “Not that I know of. Why?”
Bill sighed and settled back into his seat. “Nothing. It was a long shot, anyway.”
“Why did you ask?” He honestly wanted to know.
Bill dismissed the question. “I took a few lessons way back in the day. You said the only way off was the county road or the highway. Unless we could fly.” He shrugged his shoulders and chuckled. “Like I said, it was a long shot.”
Richard sat back in his seat and thought again. “I don’t know anybody that has their own plane, but that doesn’t mean nobody does.”
“The odds of anybody up here owning a light plane and a flat enough piece of land to have cleared it for a landing strip?”
“Oh.” Bill hadn’t thought of that. Flat land in mountain country wasn’t easy to come across. Still…
Bill looked at Jason. “Any bright ideas coming through to you?” He wasn’t expecting an answer.
“I’m hungry,” Jason said.
Bill nodded. “Yeah, kid, me, too,” he answered quietly.
“I hate to say it, but, I suppose we could go back to the house?” Richard offered. “Grab a bite. Swallow some coffee. Recharge our batteries. I don’t know. Maybe think of something new?”
“Maybe give those soldier zombies a chance to clear away from their roadblock and give us a chance to run it?”
Richard shrugged. “As good a plan as any.” Richard reached over and ruffled Jason’s hair. “We can give junior here a chance to eat, freshen up. Maybe he’ll dream us up an escape route.”
“Deal.” Bill continued on toward Richard’s house. He could feel the Buick’s front end shaking as if it had been knocked out of whack or lost a few wheel weights. He thought maybe they should take Richard’s truck the next time out. If there actually was a next time. He had a sneaky feeling that once they got to the house, they might not get a chance to leave.
As he pulled into the drive, Bill kept his eyes peeled for any kind of movement. He drove the Buick up the driveway and parked close to the house, leaving the drive open so that the pickup could be pulled out and a hasty escape could still be made.
As Richard and Jason went inside to start a pot of coffee and throw together a quick meal, Bill opened the garage door and pulled the truck out. He grabbed their meager belongings and tossed them into the bed of the truck. Although the cab might get a little cramped, the truck had much better ground clearance than the car and should they be forced to take another county road, he felt more confident in their ability to survive the drive.
Bill walked back into the garage and looked around. He found a plastic tub that was labeled ‘camping gear.’ Pulling it down from the heavy wooden table, he noted its heft. Bill pulled the lid off and was pleased to discover a tent, still in the box, a camping stove and hand axe lay underneath, along with two sleeping bags. Rifling around in the tub, he found a lot of useful items one could use while camping, so he snapped the plastic watertight lid back on and carried it to the pickup. He lowered the tailgate and slid the tub into the back and up against the cab. You never know if you might get stranded in the middle of nowhere and need emergency supplies.
He took another look around the garage and his gaze settled on a gas can. He picked it up and it felt nearly full. He set it in the back beside the tub and closed the tailgate. With emergency gear packed, he felt that they had everything they could take with them in case things got out of hand.
Bill paused and chuckled to himself. Got out of hand? They were on the run from the Army…there were hundreds, if not thousands of zombies raging through the forest attacking anybody and everybody they thought they could sink their molars into, his new friend just lost his wife to this blasted rage disease, and he’s thinking, IF things got out of hand? What the hell else would need to happen for things to really get out of hand? He sat down on the tailgate of the truck and shook his head.
“This retirement thing is really starting to suck.”
Vickers had just stepped from the helicopter when Captain
