The Hunger (Book 3): Ravaged (26 page)

Liz asked, “Can we outrun them in this?”

“Yeah, as long as we can get off the ground without them cutting us down. They might be able to push that bird to a hundred or so. We could double that, given enough time.”

“Get in the plane, Paul,” Liz said.

“But—”

“Get in the damn plane. Lance is right—they can’t possibly know where we are.”

Paul watched the sky for a moment, his brow furrowed. “Hell with it.” He closed the door again and ran around, climbing into the pilot’s seat.

As the Wildman prepped for takeoff, Lance spotted the helicopter through his window. It banked left, flying over the western edge of Latrobe. It moved in large circles, covering a lot of distance with each pass.

“Look at that.” Lance pointed at the helicopter. “They’re definitely doing a blind search. Can we take off and get past them?”

“Maybe,” Paul said. “Depends on how quickly they see us. If we can get in the air, we might be able to make it.” Paul watched the helicopter continue to circle ahead of them. “It doesn’t look like they’re coming any closer. Can’t believe I’m dealing with this right now. I should be halfway to the coast already.”

They sat for several minutes, watching the aircraft continue its search.

Lance caught Cass watching him. “What?”

“I just can’t believe you’re here with me. I thought I’d lost you forever.”

Liz gave them a quick glance over her shoulder. Though she didn’t speak, Lance could feel the pangs of jealousy coming from her.

“We’re gonna have to make a break for it,” Paul said. “If we sit here too long, we won’t have enough time at the shore to find a boat.”

The engine chugged to life. The propeller on the front spun into a blur.

Lance watched the helicopter. He hated the idea of trying to fly past it. After everything he’d survived, he would have no control over their fate during the next few minutes. He could do nothing but hope and pray.

The Cessna hitched as it started rolling forward.

“Sorry,” Paul said. “This might be a rough ride.”

Cass grabbed Lance’s hand and gave him a wide-eyed look.

Bumps rattled the plane as they accelerated down the runway. They passed the terminal on their left. The glass leading inside was smashed out. A car had crashed through one of the walls.

As the tires left the concrete and they started the climb, the helicopter stopped its circling and banked toward them. It came from their left, closing the distance faster than Lance had expected.

“Here they come,” Paul yelled. The noise in the cabin made him difficult to hear. “This is gonna be close.”

“Go faster!” Liz cried.

“I can’t. It’s at full throttle.”

Lance’s breathing quickened as he watched the chopper approach. He forced himself to inhale through his nose. Getting overly excited would hurt his chest.

Cass squeezed his hand.

“This is full throttle?” Adam asked. “I could flap my arms and go faster than this!”

“The take-off speed of these planes isn’t that great.” Paul looked over at Liz. “It wouldn’t be a goddamn issue if we didn’t get
involved
!”

Lightheadedness struck Lance again. His eyes narrowed to little more than slits as he watched the helicopter. The voices of everyone arguing in the plane, already muffled by the outside noise, died down.

His head lolled on his shoulders.

“Lance?” Cass shook his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Tired,” Lance mumbled. “Damn tired.”

“Let him rest,” Liz said, glancing over her shoulder. “He’s been shot.”

“I know he’s been shot!” Cass balled her hand behind Liz’s seat.

The helicopter banked harder, moving to cut off their flight path. Even as Lance faded in and out, he could see that the chopper wasn’t moving fast enough to get in front of them. The little Cessna, though climbing, had a significant speed advantage.

“I think we’re good,” Paul shouted.

As they reached the same altitude as the helicopter, which was still a hundred yards away, the chopper leveled out and rotated so its doors faced them. A man sat behind the mounted gun, aiming at the plane.

“Shit! Hold on!” Paul leveled the plane out and rocked in his seat as if he could urge the engine to go faster. “Come on, baby.”

Fire belched from the mounted gun as the man shot at them.

Lance watched, transfixed, as holes punched into the wing of the Cessna. He tried to shout for the others to duck, but his eyes went out of focus. Everyone’s voices came from a great distance. The drone of the plane withered to a whisper.

“Damn! We’re hit!” Paul shouted.

The plane shook violently.

Lance slipped into darkness.

––––––––

I
t took all Brown’s willpower not to tear the map in half.

His frustration expanded with each passing mile.

They’d encountered multiple abandoned roadblocks. Twice, Eifort had to swing around and backtrack to a previous exit. Those little excursions cost precious time that they didn’t have.

The area north of Philadelphia was a complete disaster. Bridges and overpasses were gone, demolished by explosives.

Burned-out cars, tanks, and Humvees littered the highways. Bullet holes crisscrossed the streets and buildings in a mad tapestry of war. The demolished husks of homes stood in stark contrast to the clear blue sky. Entire neighborhoods had burned to the ground, leaving the ashes of a previous world to blow in the wind.

Brown had heard about the great battles the military waged against the infected in Philadelphia. After the fall of New York, the Army and Marines had fallen back to the sprawling City of Brotherly Love.

They dropped bombs and leveled city blocks, incinerated downtown and toppled Lincoln Financial Field. Brown had watched some of the carnage on the news before the power went out.

The shell of the once-great city was too hard to navigate. Daylight slid by as they drove past massive pileups and football field-sized craters.

They would have diverted south, going toward Atlantic City, except they’d made a promise to Cass. If they didn’t meet at the designated port, then they would never find each other again.

After all they’d been through, Brown couldn’t abandon her now.

The front end of their truck was crinkled and broken. Eifort had pushed their way past several more cars when they’d exited the turnpike, and their truck had paid the price. How much longer could it go?

They had the option of pulling into a wooded area and attempting to survive the night. A month ago, that might have worked, but now Brown doubted they would make it more than a few hours. The Vladdies wouldn’t be fooled by bulbs of garlic and fire anymore.

They had to make it to the ocean.

“Which exit?” Eifort asked.

Brown snapped out of his funk and looked at the map again. He’d stared at it for so long that his eyes wanted to cross each time he had to alter their route.

“Keep going until we hit Trenton. We’ll cut across on 195.”

“That’s the road that will take us the whole way to the shore?”

“God, I hope so. It should, unless we hit more of these damnable roadblocks.” Brown watched the sun approach the horizon through his window. “This is going to be close.”

––––––––

L
ance’s head bobbed forward, his chin bouncing off his chest.

The pain that flared up brought him out of the darkness.

“Whazzit?” He blinked a few times, having to squint against the light shining through the windows.

Cass spoke in his ear. “We’re about to jump.”

Lance tried to turn around and face her, but his waist was attached to something, preventing him from rotating. “What? Where are we?”

“East of Philadelphia. Paul says we’re close to the water, but we can’t wait any longer to jump.”

“Why?” Lance looked to his left and saw Adam sitting by the door, his face so pale that Lance wondered if he had any blood in it at all. He had a parachute already strapped to his back, a duffel bag clipped to his belt.

“The helicopter shot the hell out of us. We got away, barely, but we took a ton of damage. We’ve made to the shore, but we were flying so slow that the engine keeps stalling. Paul says we’re at the end of the road.” Cass breathed quickly in his ear. He could feel her chest against his back, her heart racing madly.

Liz sat in the front seat, her parachute on already. She kept glancing at Lance and Cass. She said something to Lance, but the noise outside of the plane was too great for him to hear her.

Lance twisted his head around enough to see Cass. “How long have I been out?”

“A few hours.” She put her hand on his hip. “Liz told me that Paul doesn’t think you’ll make this jump, but I know better. Nothing can kill you, dumbass. You hear me? Nothing is going to stop us now.”

Lance opened his mouth, but Cass hushed him.

“Just listen to me. I have you strapped to me around the waist and at your shoulders. When the chute opens, it’s going to hurt. A lot. There isn’t much we can do about that. When we land, your leg is going to hurt even more. But I’ll need you to stay awake, OK? We’re going to be pressed for time as it is. We can’t be dragging you around.”

“I’ll do my best.” Lance wasn’t sure how he could promise to stay conscious, but he didn’t see much point in bickering just then. They were about to jump from an airplane while he had a bullet wound in his chest.

Paul turned back and frowned at them. “Ready?” he shouted.

“Fuck no!” Adam put his hand on the handle of the door. “This is so stupid!”

A clunking noise came from the engine, and the plane bucked.

“There she goes,” Paul said. “Time to go. Jump before we lose too much altitude. Those chutes aren’t worth shit under several hundred feet. Now, go!”

Adam shimmied closer to the door. The duffel bag full of Paul’s equipment dragged along the floor, slowing him down. He put both hands on the door handle and gave Lance a frightened, I-might-shit-myself look. “This is almost as scary as that time in the subway!” He yanked the door open.

Air rushed in, screaming through the cabin.

A blast of cold ran through Lance’s clothing. His hair, matted with sweat, blew up.

Adam stared at the open door for several seconds.

“Go!” Paul swung his legs around his seat and reached out to Liz.

The engine chuffed again and died. The propeller slowed.

Adam grabbed both sides of the doorway and heaved himself out. He screamed as he tumbled away.

“Don’t piss on me, dumbass,” Cass said in Lance’s ear.

“No promises.”

The front end of the plane angled down as they slid across the floor.

Liz and Paul attached themselves at the waist, facing each other, unlike Lance and Cass.

The wind by the door puffed Lance’s shirt out, making it flap against his chest and stomach.

“Ready?” Cass asked.

“Hell no, I’m not ready. Do you want to go on three, or—”

Cass yanked him through the door, and they were free falling. They tumbled end over end as the rush of the wind pulled their skin tight and whistled in their ears.

Lance’s abdominals constricted with such force that his entire body locked up as if he’d become paralyzed. He couldn’t even scream.

And then something slammed against his shoulders and waist, making his head snap forward. Searing, blinding pain blossomed in his chest. He wanted to scream, puke, and pass out all at once.

His clenched abs released as their descent slowed.

The cool wind felt great on his burned limbs, at least.

“You still with me?” Cass hollered.

Lance gave her a thumbs up. Then he coughed up blood. It dribbled down his chin, staining his shirt.

“What is it?” Cass asked.

“My chest.” The words came out in a wet croak. “Hurts bad.”

“Stop being such a pussy—it’s just a bullet wound. We’ll have Brown fix you up tonight.”

Lance jerked his head around to give her a torrent of shit when he heard her laughing. “You’re such an ass.”

They glided above a residential area. Most of the homes were still intact, a sight that gave Lance a little added hope. Knowing that the infected hadn’t completely ravaged this part of the country pleased him. Seeing a slice of what America had once been dulled some of the ache in his chest.

Adam was a quarter of a mile behind them and a hundred yards closer to the ground.

Lance looked up, but couldn’t see Paul and Liz. The parachute blocked most of his visibility above them, so he tried not to be too concerned.

The plane dropped from the sky like a stone in front of them. It whistled as it fell, a sound that Lance had always thought hokey when it happened in movies.

It took close to half a minute before the Cessna crashed into a small condo building. The explosion echoed for miles, the only sound Lance could hear other than the light breeze and the squawking of birds flying by in an off-kilter formation.

They continued to drop, faster than Lance would have liked, toward a small, tightly packed community of ranch-style homes.

“Can you guide this thing?” Lance asked. He spit out a wad of blood, watching it lob toward the ground.

“You want me to steer us around? I’m just happy that I was able to pull the right cord. It’s not as if I took a class before jumping out of a crashing plane.”

“A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed.”

“I learned how to be a smarmy ass from the best.” Cass wrapped her arms around his chest with a soft, tentative touch. Her head rested in the nook of his neck, her breath warming him.

Lance liked this new, softer Cassandra. Two months ago, she would have slapped him in the back of the head and called him a dumbass. Now, she gave him hugs and called him a dumbass.
Baby steps,
he thought with a bloody grin.

Was it the pregnancy that had changed her? Was it Lance? He guessed it was a combination of the two. Either way, he wanted nothing more than to protect her, to continue proving to her that not all men were assholes.

And yet, there they were, hanging in the air from a parachute as he coughed up blood and struggled to remain conscious. So much for being her protector.