William pulls the hand brake and jumps out of the car. His knees almost buckle as he stands up for the first time since yesterday. He reaches in to honk the horn and begins waving at the helicopter.
“Hey! Down here! Look down here!”
He realizes there’s little chance the pilot will hear the car horn, so instead he begins blinking the headlights. In the dim twilight, it must at least be visible from up there.
And it seems to work.
The helicopter slows down, then hovers over the highway. Even though it’s very high up, the sound of the rotors is still deafening, and William covers his ears.
A bright searchlight is turned on, sweeps across the ground, then comes to a rest on top of William. Feeling suddenly very exposed, William realizes he has no idea who’s up there, and he must fight a strong urge to jump back inside the car.
But the helicopter is definitely the fastest way of getting out of here. So he forces himself to wave, while shielding his eyes from the light.
“How many of you are down there?” a voice calls out over a speaker. It’s a man’s voice, and it’s talking English.
“Just me!” William calls back up.
“Tell us by show of fingers!” the voice instructs him. William notices there’s no accent. It doesn’t sound like a Norwegian guy up there. In fact, if anything, the voice sounds like that of an American.
William holds up two fingers.
“Are any of you infected?”
William shakes his head firmly.
“Have any of you been in contact with infected people within the last six hours?”
William hesitates for a second, then nods. Whoever is up there could very well have seen the horde of zombies in the distance and put two and two together, so he decides not to lie.
A short pause. For a moment, William is certain it was the wrong answer and that the helicopter will fly away.
Then the voice comes again: “Are any of you spiking a fever?”
William shakes his head.
“If it’s true, if none of you guys have a fever, we can bring you along. Would you like that?”
“Where are you going?” William asks, throwing out his arms, hoping to communicate his question. Apparently, it goes through.
“We’re going to Tunisia. They’ve put up military bases down there.”
William can’t believe his luck. For a moment, he considers simply taking the offer and going with the helicopter to a safe military base in Africa. But he can’t abandon his promise to Dan. Still, if he wants any hope of reaching Dan in time, the helicopter is his best bet.
William shows them a thumbs-up.
“All right, I’m going to throw down a backpack to you now. We need to confirm that none of you have a fever. Inside the back is a digital thermometer; please place that under your tongue, close your mouth and wait.”
William nods, darting a glance around on the dim highway. It’s not easy making out the surroundings due to the bright spotlight from the helicopter, but Ozzy has come out of the car, too, and is patrolling around the car. William feels confident he’ll pick up the scent of any oncoming deads and warn him immediately.
The backpack falls out of the sky. William catches it. It’s a big, heavy-duty, beige-colored army backpack. On it reads US Airforce.
“They really are American,” William mutters as he unzips the back and finds the casing with the thermometer. He unpacks the metal disc and places it under his tongue as instructed.
Ten seconds pass by. William just stands there, looking around, feeling very awkward as the spotlight hovers over him.
Then the voice tells him: “You’re fine. Please pass on the thermometer to the other person in the car.”
William shakes his head and points to Ozzy.
“Please pass the thermometer to the person accompanying you,” the voice tells him again.
William shakes his head again and points to Ozzy, then shows two fingers.
A brief pause.
“Is it only you and the dog?”
William nods.
“We can only bring you.”
William shakes his head with emphasis.
Another pause.
Then the helicopter drops lower, and William begins feeling the rush of air from the rotors tucking at his hair, pulling the breath from his mouth. He covers his mouth and lowers his head.
“Please use the ladder,” the voice tells him.
William glances up to see a metal wire ladder dangling just ahead.
“Fine, but I’m bringing the dog!” he calls out, pointing to Ozzy.
The voice doesn’t answer, which William takes an OK.
William whistles for Ozzy to come. He kneels down and tells him: “We’re going piggyback—you remember that one? I know we haven’t done it in a while.”
Ozzy seems to get it.
William pats his shoulder. “Come on, buddy. Piggyback!”
Ozzy places both front paws on his shoulder, then steps on and leans over William’s back. The dog is a lot heavier than when William last did this trick. But he’s dead set on bringing Ozzy, so he stands up with an effort, the dog hanging over his shoulders like an oversized feather boa.
William needs one hand to hold Ozzy’s legs, and it’s difficult for him to straighten his back, but he manages to catch the ladder with his free hand and step up onto the lowest rung. The next one proves harder, though, as he can’t let go with his hand. He looks up at the helicopter, squinting his eyes at the blazing winds, the sound deafening. “Could use some help!”
The words are ripped from his mouth and thrown away. There’s no chance of them hearing him up there.
But to his surprise, the voice says: “Hold on! We’ll hoist you up.”
The ladder starts moving up. William holds on tightly, squeezing Ozzy’s legs as they rise from the ground and the dog starts squirming.
“Hold still, buddy!” William calls out. “I know it’s scary, but you need to hold still!”
The ladder moves fairly fast, pulling them up towards
