* * *
Blake had one of the few satellite phones in operation. Its soft vibration woke him. He looked at the sleeping children before answering. Softly he spoke into the receiver. “Yes?”
“John Henry?”
“Cora?”
“John, I wish you were here.”
“Me, too, love.”
“Something is going on up front.”
He sat straighter, the hairs at the back of his neck tingled. His wife was prone to exaggeration. This time, there was urgency in her tone. “What is happening?” Whimpering came from the phone. Was she crying? From the pit of his stomach came an unbearable pain. “Cora? Love? Talk to me. Talk to me!”
He listened on the verge of hysteria. The children were there and he couldn’t get louder. They needed their rest. If only he could be alone for a few minutes. He listened intently, his leg shaking.
“Something is wrong up front,” she whispered.
“The pilot?” his mind raced. Sweat flowed down his face. He gripped his leg to stop the tapping.
“This is the Captain speaking,” said a voice that came over the phone. It must be the intercom. They should be on the plane somewhere over the center of the country. “Please stay in your seats and follow the directions of your flight attendants.”
“Oh god!” they were in the air and something was wrong. Blake heard the shaking in the man’s voice.
“Remain in your seats until further notice, Captain out.”
“Cora?” his voice rose above a whisper. “Cora!”
“There’s a man a few seats in front of us,” Cora said. “I think he is turning.”
“What?”
“Men are holding him down. I think he is turning. What can I do?”
“Oh god, no. Please god, no! Not my family, please. Not my family.”
Blake held the phone so close to his ear that with a shove, it could go through to the other side. He heard strange noises. Could they be zombie howls? He thought of all the people he witnessed going through the change and he compared the god-awful sounds they made to these. Could it be true? My god! It might be true.
“Help!”
“Cora Mae!” he jumped to his feet, not caring how loud he was. “Cora!” he listened.
Dozens of screams came through the phone. The sounds chilled him to the bone. He had his proof. His family was on board an airplane, trapped thousands of feet off the ground with a zombie. Not just any zombie, a new strong zombie.
Blake felt helpless. He wanted to scream from the top of his lungs. He frantically looked about. He saw two guards at the front of the bus and dozens of sleeping children between them. A guard looked at him. The guards hand instinctively lowered to his side arm. Blake held up his hand, then sat, trying to remain calm. His family was in mortal danger and if he displayed odd behavior, he would be as well. He kept the phone pressed to his ear listening.
“Lord God, please help them.”
Blake waited.
New sounds emerged. Sounds twice as gruesome as before. Were there more zombies now? Panic seized him as he heard his wife’s scream. Seconds later, he heard the distinctive screams of his three daughters. Last, he heard the scream of his only son, John Henry. Blake shook. He broke out in a cold sweat and began licking his lips, waiting for more sounds to complete the picture. If only he had not gone to Wyoming so early, he would be with them now. He was a father and husband, a protector. All he could do was hang his head in shame and helplessly listened to the sounds that inflamed his ears. He listened more closely, unable to put the phone down. He didn’t want to hear their screams, but couldn’t turn away. His breathing grew shallow, intently listening. He gasped, reminding his body to breathe.
Scream after scream came through to him. He heard his wife screaming for them to stay back. He knew in his heart she was somewhere in a corner, clutching her four children to her breast, defending them with her last breath. He closed his eyes to keep back the tears. “God, please, please!” he softly moaned.
“We’re going down!” said a voice from the intercom. Blake sat straighter, listening, eyes wide.
“We’re going down! Brace yourselves! Brace yourselves!”
Blake kept listening, unable to distinguish human screams from zombie screams. It seems every soul living and dead was screaming as one collective voice. The screams grew louder and louder. Then, he heard a loud bang, then silence. Blake hung his head, clutching the phone to his chest. In the back of the bus, with no one able to see, he curled into a ball.
“They won’t become zombies. They won’t become zombies.”
Blake repeated the phrase, trying to give himself peace. Silently, he remained in fetal position, mourning the loss of his family.
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Rebirth