Desolate The Complete Trilogy

10



Aircraft Falcon Six Five Eight Alpha

25,000 feet over the Caribbean Sea

350 nautical miles off the coast of Colombia



Julia looked out the window at her side and took a deep breath. Unlike a regular passenger plane, this one had only a few small windows. For some reason that made it worse. God she hated flying. The clouds broke and an unfettered view of the vast blue emptiness below came into view. She looked away, shaken by the notion of being surrounded by nothing but miles and miles of water.

Unlike a lot of people who get jumpy only at takeoff and landings, Julia found flying at cruising altitude the most terrifying part. Every time she peeked out the window she couldn’t help picture herself plummeting to the earth at terminal velocity, twisting and screaming and clawing at the air as the water grew closer.

A couple of hours ago, a large military aircraft appeared out the window and the captain explained over the intercom they were about to be refueled in the air. Julia found nothing too comforting about that procedure. Not only did flying directly behind a giant gas station with wings seem incredibly dangerous, but also what if something went wrong? What happened if they couldn’t get more fuel? She tried not to think about such things and tried to assure herself everybody in the air knew what they were doing.

It was nine hours into the flight and she was getting restless. She tried to distract herself by turning her attention to her patient but that didn’t help much. Once his stretcher was secured to the floor of the plane, IV set up, and catheter checked, there wasn’t much for her to do. The last few days were a blur of activity, but as soon as that door was sealed she suddenly had what seemed like all the time in the world. It didn’t even occur to her to pick up a magazine.

Dr. Schmidt and the rest of the team took another flight back to the states, leaving just Julia and the two pilots to take the prisoner back. Major Zellermayer insisted that one of his men accompany her. Julia protested and assured him that if the prisoner was properly restrained he couldn’t do any harm, even if he woke up during the flight. It was a possibility, considering his increased brain-wave activity over the last day or two, but she wasn’t concerned. The truth was, she was so afraid of flying, something she worked very hard to hide from the rest of the world, Zellermayer’s man would be one less person to see her wig out from turbulence, one less thing she had to worry about.

The flight deck door opened and the copilot appeared. He looked uncomfortable in his HAZMAT suit but gave her a little smile as he sat down in the seat next to her.

“How’s it going back here?” he asked. “Anything you need? You’re looking at the world’s best paid flight attendant at the moment.”

Julia chuckled at his lame joke and smiled back. “No, thanks. We’re doing just fine. How much longer is it?”

“About three hours until we touch down. Any trouble from pretty boy over there?” he asked.

“Nope, still sleeping like a baby. At least one of us can.”

The pilot slowly got up with a groan and stretched his back. “Well, if you need anything just give us a holler. You can come right in. The door isn’t locked. They did pat you down for box cutters before you boarded, right?” he deadpanned.

Julia held up her hands. “I’m clean, I swear.”

He laughed a little too hard and disappeared back into the cockpit, to her relief.

Julia got up and checked on the patient again. Pretty boy. He actually was good-looking, although it was hard to tell without seeing a person with their eyes open. Early thirties, sandy brown hair, scruffy beard. A little too skinny, but considering he was at a maximum security prison camp, probably doing hard labor, that was understandable. Being in a coma didn’t help.

God what was she doing? Fawning over a convicted killer at twenty-five thousand feet while a pandemic was spreading down there on the ground. She was getting loopy. Julia collapsed into her seat, fastened the belt, crossed her arms, and commanded herself to get some rest. If the sky remained smooth for the rest of the flight, she just might doze off and get an hour or two of sleep. Lord knows she’d need it once they got back to Atlanta.





First Officer Jack Pritchard returned to his seat and settled in. He slipped his headset over his ears and struggled once again to find the best spot to place the mic. The bulky respirator on his mask was in the way and every time he needed to check in on the radio, he literally had to shout.

“Nothing going on back there,” he said, “but I thought I’d check anyway.” He glanced over at the captain, Bill Rutherford. Bill’s hands rested on his legs and he didn’t move. He was staring at the control panel in front of him.

“Bill?”

No answer.

“Bill, you okay? What’s going on?”

Bill turned his head toward Jack and stared at him with glazed eyes. His face was covered in perspiration. Under his hood and face mask, a trickle of blood ran from his nose down his chin. “I don’t feel very good,” he muttered.

Jack stopped himself before cursing and forced a smile instead. “Okay, buddy. Hang on a sec.” He reached for the intercom button to call the doctor but changed his mind. Jack unbuckled his seat belt, removed his headset, and got up.

“I’ll be right back, Bill,” Jack said in a soothing voice. “Just take it easy and I’ll see if the doctor can check you out. Okay?” Bill ignored him.

Jack did a quick check of the systems and left the flight deck. He approached the doctor who looked like she’d finally nodded off. He gently shook her shoulder

Julia opened her eyes and jumped. “What? What’s happening?”

“Dr. Parker, I think we have a situation on the flight deck.”

“Is something wrong with the plane?” She glanced around nervously.

“No, everything is fine. It’s Captain Rutherford. He’s…he’s looking pretty ill. He’s got a bloody nose.”

“Thank God,” she said on an exhale. “The plane, I’m mean. Sorry, I…” She shook her head as she unfastened her seat belt and rose. “Never mind. Can we bring him back here so I can check him out? You can fly the plane alone, right?”

Before Jack could answer, the plane pitched violently; they lost balance and tumbled to the floor. Instruments and supplies showered down on them from compartments above. Julia screamed in terror as the aircraft shook violently and continued its decent.

“Get back to your seat!” Jack shouted to her. “Buckle up and hang on!”

She wanted to stay on the floor and curl up in a ball. Forcing herself to move and fighting the g-force that wanted to keep her in place, Julia managed to get into her seat. Her hands were shaking so badly she could barely connect the seat belt. It finally clicked into place.

Julia risked a quick glance out the window. The world outside was at a terrifying angle so she looked back at her patient. He remained unconscious despite the chaos round him. She hated him for it.





Jack burst into the cockpit. Bill’s hood and face mask were off. Blood was smeared all over his face and hands.

“What in the hell are you doing, Bill?”

“We need to land,” Bill stammered. “Christ, I’ve got it. We need to get on the ground or I’m going to die!”

The plane was losing altitude at a dangerous rate. Jack grabbed Bill by the wrist and tried to get him to pull back on the yoke. Bill pushed him off and the aircraft pitched to the side as he temporarily took his hand off the yoke.

Jack lunged for his own controls and tried to counteract Bill’s nosedive. They struggled for a moment, cancelling out each other’s efforts; one man desperately trying to land through a fever-induced haze of madness, and the other simply trying to pull back and level out the plane.

“No!” Bill wailed.

He let go of the stick and flailed at Jack, just barely missing him due to the distance between the two seats. Jack pulled back hard on the yoke and the aircraft finally broke from the dive. Bill unbuckled his seat belt and lunged at Jack. Now he was the one frantically trying to gain control.

Again they fought. Bill couldn’t understand why Jack wasn’t helping him. He couldn’t believe this man he considered a friend was trying to stop him from landing. Jack wanted to keep him trapped in this tube to die like an animal. Jack was shouting at him but Bill didn’t hear. He coughed a mist of blood on the back of Jack’s suit. He grabbed Jack by the neck and choked him as Jack tried to fight him off with one hand.

The aircraft pitched again. Bill lost his balance and fell to the floor. He battled through his dizziness and stood up. He unlatched the fire extinguisher beside the pilot’s seat, raised it above his head, and smashed it on the back of Jack’s skull as hard as he could.

Jack went limp and fell forward on the yoke, causing the plane to dive again. Bill lost his balance and sailed face first into the control panel. Fresh blood from a broken tooth mixed with the steady flow from his nose.

He somehow managed to crawl into his own seat as the ground below got closer through the windscreen. Bill grabbed the yoke with bloody hands, leveled out the aircraft, and pulled back on the throttle. His eyes burned and he was seeing double but he could make out a clearing in the trees below just large enough to land. Trees? Where in the hell did they come from? And where was the damn airport?

He laughed and turned to Jack to celebrate. Jack was slumped over in his seat, his head covered in blood. What happened to him? Bill couldn’t remember.

“Hold on, buddy, we’re coming in hard!” Bill shouted.

He knew if he could land the plane and get out in the fresh air everything would be fine. He would be okay. His friend Jack would be okay too.