Adrian's Undead Diary (Book 6): In the Arms of Family (38 page)

“In America. Not far from the east coast, so if you’re coming in from the Azores, head north. Or south, depending on how far north you land. One of us will get a message to you when you arrive, or shortly thereafter. I think Gavin is going to be the most able. Love seems to help. Maybe we can find another couple. Gavin’s girl is still alive. We’ve been practicing, and it’s easier for the younger folks to be more… real.” Gilbert’s answer was cryptic, but also still exciting.

“Real? What do you mean real?” Michelle asked. A strange sensation came over her as she asked the question. In the dim reaches of the back of her mind she felt the sun’s warmth on her body, and knew she was on the edge of waking up.
 

“I’ll be there Michelle. But I won’t really be there. See you again soon,” Gavin said, and with that, Michelle opened her eyes under the bright morning sun of the Azores islands.

She smiled widely, and knew today would be a very good day.

*****

[TRANSLATED FROM PORTUGUESE]

“Carlinho catch!” Luisinho said to his friend in the fenced in school playground as he tossed the Frisbee to his friend. The two boys were steadfast friends, and enjoyed their break from school work on the warm summer day. The ocean’s breeze came across the green grass, washing away the stench of the two dead bodies that were a few hundred yards away. The sanitation people who still worked hadn’t arrived to take the dead away yet and the heat had made the bodies bloat, and rot. The stink was foul.

Carlinho caught the Frisbee with a concerned look on his face. “So your dad said they are leaving as soon as they get that part huh? Wow that’s weird. I was really hoping they’d stay so when I got old enough I could join them as a soldier.”

“Yeah, yeah. That would’ve been cool. Hey don’t say anything to anyone. It’s really important. My father will string me up by my heels if he finds out I told even you,” Luisinho said softly to his friend, aware of the rest of the kids on the playground.

Carlinho nodded seriously, reassuring his buddy. All the while he was wondering what his dad would say when he got home and told him. Carlinho figured his father would very much not like the idea of the Americans leaving in their big plane, with all their guns and medicine. Carlinho threw the Frisbee back to his friend, and tried to forget about the smell of the dead bodies nearby.

*****

Later that day as Jaden closed the clinic down, Luis arrived with the part they needed. Jaden and the diminutive, balding man exchanged a smile and pleasantries while the Air Force medics treated the few injuries and illnesses that the island brought to them. Roger, Joel, and Ethan, the entire para jumper team, were at the clinic either providing security, or tending to those that needed help.

It was a very quiet day that afternoon. Perhaps ten people needed the highly skilled attention of the four men, and even then the injuries and sicknesses presented were mild. When the last little boy with a cough went out the front door of the airport terminal, Luis sat down on a folding chair that served as part of the waiting room they’d set up. The building was surprisingly warm that day, and Luis wiped his brow with a small square of cloth he produced from his back pants pocket.

Jaden wheeled himself around the table and up to the sweating man, a warm smile on his face. “Luis, it is good to see you again. I trust you had a good evening last night.”

“I did thank you. My wife made watercress soup again. I brought a container of it for you to share with your men. It is better than the last time.” Luis beamed. His wife’s cooking was a source of tremendous pride for him.

Jaden’s eyes lit up. “Oh, now that’s a treat. It was delicious last time. That was very good of you. Make sure you send her our love and thanks.”

Luis nodded, pleased. “I have also brought your part. It is in the back of my car. I will go get it as well as the soup.”
 

“Do you need help with the part? Is it heavy?” Jaden asked the man as Luis stood.

“Oh no. It is small, only the size of a loaf of bread,” Luis said as he turned and walked to the door.

“Excellent Luis. I can’t say thank you enough for this. “
 

“If you wish to pay me back, when you arrive at your homes, take care of your children, or find a beautiful woman and make some. This world needs little boys and girls my friend, and you are a man who should be bringing little ones up.” Luis looked at Jaden with admiration in his eyes.

Jaden felt his eyes start to fill with water as well, and he swallowed the emotion down so he could speak, “Thank you Luis. Your praise means a lot right now.”

Luis nodded, and went to fetch the part from his car.

*****

[TRANSLATED FROM PORTUGUESE]

“There he is. Watch him,” the thin Azorean man said to his friend hiding underneath the abandoned derelict vehicle in the airport parking lot. The two men sweat profusely in the oven-like conditions under the car.
 

Far off in the distance at the departures area of the small airport they watched Luis walk out of the glass doors and towards his tiny yellow compact car. The little man fished the keys out of his pocket and opened the hatch on the back. After putting the keys back into his pants pocket, he took a small plastic container out of the back, and lifted a part that looked like it belonged in an engine. It was the size of a forearm. Luis shut the hatch door with his elbow as one of the tall white men holding a military style rifle held the front door of the airport open for him. They watched as Luis nodded to the man, and then walked inside.

“Bitch. He’s giving them the piece just like Carlinho said. What a traitor. Thank God for good sons. We must stop them tonight. They cannot just abandon us like garbage here. If they strand us, they deserve to die like cowards for leaving us behind to rot.”

The other man nodded vehemently and gritted his teeth. “Yes. They will learn to bear their responsibility to us tonight.”

The two men slid slowly out from the hot pavement under the car, and slinked away, full of anger, back home to gather support for their task.

*****

Back in Morocco one of Jaden’s men had his face nearly torn off in the car wreck that took his left leg. The two men had grown very close since then, closer than the already tightly knit warriors already were. Joel’s ragged scar ran from the middle of the right side of his jaw all the way up his right cheek, and across his cheek bone. He had been a handsome man before, and now he was damaged goods. The two men found a little bit of solace sharing time with each other. Both felt a little bit like they belonged on the island of misfit toys. Brothers in a way only the maimed or leprous can be.

Joel pushed Jaden’s wheelchair into the workshop where Dale the engineer was working on the damaged engine. Dale was intently studying a thick manual on the repair of the engine that needed the part Jaden was carrying. When Dale heard the two men enter the building one hand dropped to the Beretta on his hip as he turned to face them. You could never be too paranoid when the silent, shuffling dead were about.

“Holy shit. Is that what I think it is?” Dale asked as his hand came off the gun and a smile split his face.

Jaden nodded and lifted the part up for Dale to take. The plane’s crewman took the part like it was a floral bouquet, and he’d just won the Miss Universe pageant. Dale grinned ear to ear and mocked wiping tears of joy from his face. He immediately faked a powerful orgasm, grabbing his crotch like he was reining in a wild boar. The three men laughed, realizing that their freedom might actually be real this time.

“Is that it?” Joel asked. Joel’s speech sounded thick through the scar tissue on his cheek. It frequently reminded the other men of how it sounded when you tried to talk with a finger inside your cheek.
 

Dale nodded, looking the part over. “Yeah this is it. I don’t even need the whole thing. There’s just a few tidbits off of it that I have to pull, and get on the bird. It might take me three or four hours, but then I can test it. We could be gone in ten, maybe twelve. I’d start packing boys.”

“Good deal. Before you test the plane, let’s make sure we’re ready to go. If the locals decide to stop us from leaving, I want us to be ready to go wheels up immediately.” Jaden’s voice was filled with hesitant thought, and more than a little worry.

Dale nodded in agreement, clearly going over how the part would fit in the plane. “Yeah I’ll talk to Kate. We should have everything loaded on the plane before we spin her up. I can run some different preflight tests so we know it won’t almost blow up like last time. This should work. We should be good to go.”

“Don’t jinx us asshole. Just fix the damn thing,” Joel said, and the men all agreed.

With any luck, tonight’s sunset would be their last sunset on the island.

*****

Five men wearing head-to-toe black clothing cut the chain link fencing that surrounded Lajes airfield shortly after two in the morning. The thin men, each carrying a machete covered in black soot to darken the blade, ran across the expanse to the hangar where the MC130 had just been fully repaired. The ragtag amateurs had leapt into action when they heard the plane roar to life earlier and move forward out of the large structure that had been its home for the duration of its stay in the Azores. Their safety net was leaving.

Dale and Logan were working on the aft of the craft when the malicious crew of locals slid around the shadowed corner of the building. They had eluded the men set out to watch. The two Air Force crewmen were finishing the work of moving the Humvees into the plane and getting them affixed to the floor for flight. Neither noticed the threat moving towards them from the darkness.

“Logan please make sure that other tire is locked in place. I’m gonna check the hangar work tables and see if that case is still there. I think Kate might’ve moved it on us,” Dale hollered over his shoulder into the belly of the plane as he walked into danger obliviously.

Dale jumped down off the edge of the plane’s ramp and walked towards the interior of the hangar. Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement in the darkness, and he drew his pistol. Right before the machete sank into the back of his neck, killing him instantly, he saw one of the men raise a blade to the wheel of the big plane. Dale’s body dropped to its knees and fell flat on its face. His handgun clattered across the tarmac where one of the black clad men scooped it up eagerly.
 

Inside the plane Logan froze when he heard the metal weapon skid across the concrete. The noise and what it meant was unmistakable. Logan stood up from his crouch behind the truck and drew his own handgun. He crept down the ramp, gun up and searching for the source of the suspicious noise. "Dale?" Logan asked out loud. His friend didn't reply. Logan reached down to his belt and grabbed the small radio to inform the others of the strange occurrence. “Hey guys, I just heard some strange noises near the plane, can I get some support here ASAP?” Logan asked into the radio. Within a second he had a response.

“Enroute.” It was Joel. Logan could tell from the thick curdle in his voice caused by that ugly scar tissue.

Logan breathed a sigh of relief and swallowed hard before putting the radio back on his belt. “Hey Dale, you out there?” As Logan asked he felt a slight tremor in the plane. Almost as if someone were shaking it. The sensation caused him to run down the ramp, worried something was happening outside of the plane.

Logan rounded the corner of the plane and saw a smear of blood on the concrete trailing off into the night. “Dale!” Logan reached down to his belt to grab the radio again but was stopped cold when he heard a quick series of gunshots and saw the corresponding muzzle flashes. The shots were aimed at the plane’s tires, and the shooter was just feet away from Logan. Logan turned and dove backwards, taking cover low against the end of the plane's loading ramp. It wasn’t much cover, but sometimes you really do need any port in a storm. When his body impacted the ground he lost a bit of his breath with a grunt. Logan cursed the blackness and leveled his pistol off where he thought the shots had come from. He drew the trigger three times as smooth as he could, and sent lead downrange, hoping it’d find the hidden shooter.

One of the rounds did. Logan heard a yelp of pain immediately followed by the distinct sound of a person falling down hard on the ground. Logan celebrated his victory with a grin and another squeeze of the trigger. He heard the same person shout out something in Portuguese as the second bullet bit into their flesh. Logan saw a faint movement in the dark suddenly, and saw a pair of pale hands point a weapon in his direction. Logan didn’t hear the shots, but he saw the flashes of the gun going off.

He certainly felt the bullets as they burrowed deep into his stomach, one by one.

*****

Joel was already running faster than most people could manage when the first shots rang out. Joel’s powerful legs pistoned him forward even more powerfully when the flashes of the weapons illuminated the scene in the hangar as he approached. He briefly saw a handful of men turning to run away from the side of the plane, each dressed in what appeared to be black pajamas. Joel slowed his run to a steady combat walk and brought up his M4. Through the AimPoint sight he couldn’t see a thing. Joel was on watch that night, observing the far side of the airfield, and as such was wearing night vision goggles on his helmet. As fast as a cat snatching a mouse Joel flipped the goggles down from the front of the helmet, throwing the world into a thousand shades of green. The light spilling out of the hangar was near overwhelming, and made him squint.

The four men still standing and the man on the ground near the plane could not have been better illuminated in the operator’s vision once it adjusted. Those familiar with the green world of the night vision equipment could see as well as if they were standing in daylight. Joel was intimately familiar with the goggles he was looking through, and when he put the red dot of the AimPoint sight on his targets, they might as well have been tied down in a barrel with him standing over them.