Holocaust

  Chapter Twenty Three

  The men in the plane had to wait at least five minutes before their hearts stopped racing. After the seatbelts sign went off Donald paced across the floor of the cargo hold restlessly. If he was a more religious man he’d have said a prayer for Catherine so she’d quickly find a cure to this deadly virus before it wiped out the planet. That’s if the darkness didn’t do it first.

  His thoughts drifted as he paced. He glanced at the watch strapped to his wrist. They’d be back in SA in a few hours, to pick up the president and head off on an unknown mission. The president hadn’t been very vocal about the mission. All he’d said was it involved rendezvousing with NATO forces somewhere on the Black Sea.

  A US carrier the SS Harrier was presently stationed there, battle ready for missile strikes on the darkness presently ravaging the Asian pacific.

  NATO meetings as he understood it had to be held on the go. The darkness was spreading everywhere; almost as fast as the Evonso virus. Protecting world leaders demanded them being kept mobile. That made them less easy targets for the darkness and its minions to hit.

  As he paused his thinking he heard the scratching sound. It was coming from below. His frown deepened. There was a hollow space between the cargo hold and the bottom of the plane. They called it the avionics room, whatever that meant. Something was moving around in that room.

  His eyes drifted to the men seated a few feet from him. Their eyes were hard and narrowed. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who heard the movement below.

  “Is anyone down there?” Donald barked raising his gun.

  His men shook their heads slowly. Most rose raising their weapons high in the air.

  His eyes drifted to the far right side of the plane. There was a trapdoor there. He nodded slowly and two of his men strode to it. It opened without difficulty and a cold darkness yawned open. They exchanged troubled looks and one descended down the ladder.

  Donald’s eyes narrowed, his gaze fixed on the black opening. The seconds ticked by and then there was a gut wrenching scream followed by an explosion of gunfire.

  Three of his men raced for the trapdoor with their fingers curled around the triggers of their weapons. Four infected leaped from the dark opening as if shot from a cannon.

  Two men were brought down instantly, the infected crouched on their chests taking big chunks out of their necks. The men in the cargo hold fanned out firing their weapons sporadically. Donald opened his mouth to yell they exercise caution with the way they were spraying bullets when six more leapt out of the trapdoor.

  The red gleam in their eyes put the fear of God into him. He raised his weapon and squeezed off a few bursts catching one in the eye. It was flung back as if smacked in the face by a really large bat smashing into the side of the plane with a resounding crack.

  Two more soldiers lost their necks. Donald and four others backed away still firing. After decapitating the soldier it was feasting on, the tallest amongst the infected rose striding after the retreating soldiers.

  The soldiers rained bullets into its chest which now looked more like a ragged bed sheet. It yelled in a loud shrieking tone and leapt high into the air.

  The three men under its falling body increased fire. One bullet swept under the infected man’s armpit taking off a hair as it did so. This bullet ricocheted off a steel bar on a small armoured vehicle sitting in the centre of the cargo hold and swept straight to the window. The window shattered on impact and the cabin depressurized instantly.

  The men lost their weapons and were thrown upwards smashing into the roof of the cargo hold so hard that two lost consciousness instantly. The infected man was pulled towards the window by the pressurized air escaping the plane. The force sucked him through with a sickening sloshing sound and he was gone leaving a film of crimson behind.

  The plane started a steep descent dropping from almost thirty thousand feet to twenty in less than five minutes. Donald groaned as everything around him swam. On the periphery of his consciousness he heard the pilots shouting from the cockpit.

  The plane was still plummeting. If they didn’t even out soon they would give whoever was on the ground a nasty scare.

  Slowly however the plane started to even out. Donald shook his head and rose to his feet. He reached for his sidearm and drew it slowly. There were no infected in the cargo hold anymore. Wiping the blood trickling from one side of his mouth he turned and staggered to the cockpit.

  The pilots were in a state of panic when he stepped in. “How are we doing?” Donald gasped shaking his head.

  “Not good __ there aren’t any airports close enough for us to land.”

  “What does that mean for us?”

  “Nothing good sir __ we are going to hit hard. I suggest you strap yourself in and brace for impact.”

  Donald nodded and raced back into the cargo hold. He sank into the chair and quickly strapped himself in. The plane shook violently and went into a steep dive again. He gritted his teeth and started to pray. He could hear the pilots screaming from the cockpit. He stiffened his body and prepared for the crash. He didn’t have long to wait. There was a shuddering quake followed by the greatest bone shaking he’d ever felt. Seconds later the explosion rocked the plane and he knew no more.

  President Kungawo Lethabo looked up as the tall dark soldier entered his office. One look at the man’s grim face and he knew something was wrong.

  “What is it Gabriel?”

  “We lost contact with Donald’s plane about an hour and a half ago. We think it went down.”

  “Where?”

  “We’re not sure. We are still trying to find out.”

  Kungawo’s eyes grew grim. This was something he didn’t need right now. If anything bad happened to Donald __ he swallowed. It couldn’t bear thinking about. That man practically ran the country with him. Not only was he a trusted secret service officer, he was also a valued advisor.

  “Ok keep looking. Get the word out and keep me informed.”

  The man nodded and quickly exited the room. Kungawo’s sighed and leaned back in his chair rubbing his hands over his face. The office suddenly felt too quiet for some reason. He got out from behind his desk and strode for the door. He suddenly needed some air.

  Donald came to slowly. The cargo hold was a smoky miasma of twisted metal. Metal that looked like the remains of the plane’s frame was twisted inches above his body. He sighed and slid out from under it rising shakily to his feet.

  Bright sunshine streamed in from a massive hole in the plane’s hull. He walked to it listening for any movement or sign of life. He got nothing. He decided to call out.

  “Anyone still there? Is anyone alive?” A numbed silence was his only response.

  He exited the plane kicking away a shiny plate of metal before tripping and collapsing on the carpet grass covered stretch of land beyond.

  About two hundred people from a nearby village were gathered. He paused startled poised to run if any were infected. They sure didn’t look infected, worried was more like it.

  “Are you alright?” A tall woman gasped stepping forward. Her English was slow and halting, as if she wasn’t used to speaking it. He couldn’t quite place her accent. If he was to guess he’d say it had a French lilt to it. He could be wrong.

  “I am fine. Where is this?”

  “Cameroon __”

  He sighed. He hadn’t gotten far at all.

  “Where can I get a phone? I need to make a call. It’s very important.”

  She nodded slowly. “Come with me __ a phone is not far from here.”

  He nodded and strode after her. Only then did he see the cluster of small buildings about two miles away. If the plane crashed any sooner, it would have ploughed through it. He sighed and increased his pace to match the woman’s own under a hundred shocked gazes.