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Page 2


  “What was that?” he said. He raised the assault rifle that hung on his chest.

  “Oh, that’s my friend, Emily,” I said, dazed, “but she’s not that friendly anymore.”

  The soldier narrowed his gaze, looked me over, and then looked straight into my eyes. I was glad I had found my voice. Then another louder crash followed, this time from the plaza. The soldier swung around, weapon raised.

  A car had rammed a glass wall. It had hit several people before it crashed into a row of airline desks. A woman lay flattened underneath a front tire. Instead of being dead, her arms flailed at anything that passed by. It shocked me out of my daze. The soldier waved at another soldier nearby and pointed at the offices where people still were glued with their noses to the windows. He made some gestures with his hands that I didn’t understand, and then he turned his focus back to me. From the corner of my eye, I saw three soldiers rush down the hall. They started entering the offices and ushering the remaining people out.

  “You don’t seem hurt,” said the soldier near me. I shook my head, my eyes on the crowd exiting the offices. They looked in shock as they scrambled along the hallway, flanked by soldiers. Shouldn’t I follow them? Before I could voice the thought, the soldier grabbed my arm and pulled me alongside him. He said, “Follow me.”

  My legs started to move as if they had a mind of their own. I looked over my shoulder at the door where I’d left Emily. A gut-wrenching feeling threatened to take me over. Aware of the threatening screams and rapid gunfire, I managed to push it down. I said a silent good-bye to my old friend and decided to mourn her another time, if I survived. In the same glance, I noticed the soldiers usher the office people in the opposite direction.

  “They’re going … where … should we?” I asked. Nerves got the better of me, which made me rattle out the words in the wrong order. The soldier raised an eyebrow. I took a breath and said, “Shouldn’t we follow?” With a faint smile, he nodded that he understood.

  “One of my men is held up down this way, and you’re sticking with me,” he said with a grin. “By the way, my name’s Captain Justin Decker. Call me Justin. I saw you standing there and thought you might need a hand.”

  “I’m Margje Vissers.”

  “Does the name come with the accent?” he said with a frown.

  “I know. It's Dutch. Can’t help it.” He grinned as he pulled me down another corridor. “Call me Mags. It’s what my friend, Emily, used to call me.”

  | 2

  “All right, Mags,” Justin said. The tortured screams faded into the background as he led us from the plaza. White walls replaced the balcony. Blue carpet spread across the floor while window-framed office spaces lined the halls.

  Justin kept a firm grip on my arm as he dragged me along. I felt grateful for his momentum and guidance, afraid to pull my eyes from the blue carpet.

  Someone cried out. Reluctantly, I looked up from the carpet. An escalator became visible, its black belt moving undisturbed. Justin slowed us down to a walk while he lifted his weapon to his chin. My breathing reached near-hyperventilation levels. Although the presence of zombies would easily accomplish heavy breathing on its own, my shitty physical condition didn’t help. I could barely hear the bone-cutting wails over my thundering heart. I stayed behind Justin with a hand on a wall to steady myself while he stalked forward. As the black belt spun, every step of the revolving stairs that disappeared into the floor increased my heart rate by a thousand, waiting for whatever it was that was making its way up the stairs.

  The head of a young man popped up on the moving stairs. The escalator forced him onto our floor where it pushed his body into a bizarre position. The man struggled with his limbs and then stumbled to his feet. His nose lifted into the air like an animal on the hunt. His head jerked our way in the blink of an eye. Blood caked his shirt and jeans, probably caused by the nasty gash along his neckline. His eyes looked as vacant as Emily’s had while his head twitched as if he had Parkinson’s disease. Although my stomach turned at the sight, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. With jerky movements, the man made his way to us. Running seemed a good choice at that moment.

  Justin had a different idea and fired his weapon twice. The man’s head snapped to the side. My eyes closed before he could hit the floor. Then I felt a tug on my arm. Willingly, I followed Justin’s lead. Why did I do that? I was never big on trusting people, hence the fact that Emily had been my only friend. Why was I following this man, and why hadn’t I joined the others?

  Justin pulled me to a closed door. Through the window, I saw people sitting on the floor of the small office space. He opened the door and ushered me in. A second soldier sat hunched down in the corner in front of a metal desk. Although crouched, I could tell he was tall and lanky. He got to his feet, removed his helmet, and placed it on the desk. Short, frizzy hair covered his head. As he caught my gaze, I couldn’t help being captivated by his pale, jade eyes, which I’d never seen on a darker-skinned person before, except on television. Unlike the adrenaline-pumped gray-blue eyes of the captain, his eyes looked calm and soothing. Still panting from running with Justin, I closed my mouth. He cocked his head, his gaze filled with curiosity.

  Justin raised his hands in question as if he hadn’t expected the company. The soldier shrugged with an incredulous shake of his head. I don’t think he had expected the company either.

  “What’s it like out there, Cap?” he said when Justin closed the door behind me.

  “The world’s gone crazy, Lieutenant. Are we still in control?” Justin pointed at a wall, with a gesture for me to sit on the floor, and he asked for a status update. I chanced another glance at the lieutenant. His strong jaw sported a five o’clock shadow, and with his thought-provoking eyes, the man looked gorgeous. He started rattling off military slang that derailed my attention from the conversation. I didn’t collapse onto the ground, but I wasn’t far from it. I eased my head between my knees and focused on my breathing.

  When I regained my breath, I noticed two women huddled in the corner. One of them was crying. British flags decorated their flight attendants uniforms. The way they held on to each other told me they worked the same planes. The tall blonde sobbed inconsolably while the slim brunette held her arms around the crying woman. A man sat shaking his head as if he couldn’t fathom what was happening. I could understand that; I should have been on a plane bound for Amsterdam. Instead, things that appeared to have stepped out of a horror movie chased me around the airport. The man buried his elderly face in his hands, his white hair still shaking in disbelief. He too wore a uniform, except his was a janitor’s.

  The lieutenant moved next to Justin, and they both peeked out the window.

  “The plane made a clean exit and should land in Florida within three hours. Command ordered us to retreat to the safe zones with the rest of the troops,” the lieutenant said. “After that we lost communications.” He continued to explain that the two flight attendants and the old man had followed him. They had refused to leave. The lieutenant also mentioned something about an aborted shipment of subjects but didn’t clarify.

  “Is she a carri—” the lieutenant started to say and nodded my way. When he saw I noticed, he didn’t finish his sentence. Is she what? I was straining my ears to hear his whispered voice when Justin answered.

  “Don’t know, but she looks it.”

  Aggravated, I wanted to speak up. They were talking about me as if I weren’t in the room, just as my dad would do. But I lacked the courage. Besides, I shouldn’t aggravate the men who might keep me from certain slaughter by zombies. Not that it mattered; I’d leave this planet soon enough. But I wouldn’t tell them that. On the other hand, most people could read it on my face, or the short, fuzzy hair would betray me.

  I couldn’t help staring at the two men when they shifted and slid down to the floor. In full battle gear, they looked ready to charge a castle. Assault rifles hung across their chests over some type of body armor. They looked prepared. It made me wo
nder how much they knew, venturing in here, and not just about shooting zombies in the head. Despite his adrenaline-filled eyes, Justin oozed control as if he did things like this every day of his life. I caught the lieutenant staring at me again. He nervously diverted his gaze when I faced him. I didn’t know whether to frown or smile at him.

  Justin’s gaze swept the room. I could picture him addressing troops. He radiated a sense of command.

  “All right, people, listen up,” he said as he pushed his helmet up his head. Besides me, no one acknowledged him. These weren’t the type of people he usually dealt with. The flight attendants stayed huddled, and the old man kept his face hidden in his hands, except he wasn’t shaking his head anymore. Justin frowned and glanced at his lieutenant before he propped himself up and then cleared his throat.

  “Listen to me,” he said with that authoritative voice you would expect from a captain. Both women shot to attention. Justin started to talk while my eyes settled on the old man. Although he wasn’t staring at the ground, he did seem to be staring at his hands. The captain’s call for attention hadn’t startled him. It gave me this strange déjà vu sensation that reminded me of Emily.

  “All right, an infection has spread around this airport. It makes the infected act violent. We have safe zones we can go to, but we need to get moving.”

  Justin took in a breath. Before he could say anything else, I felt my mouth move.

  “They’re zombies,” I said without taking my eyes of the old man, “the living dead.”

  All eyes, except for the old man’s, turned to me. I sounded crazy without a doubt, but I couldn’t find another word for what was happening.

  Justin raised an eyebrow as he said, “Ma’am, I know it’s a lot to take in, but this is no time to break down.” Before he could open his mouth again, the lieutenant interrupted him.

  “Eh, Captain,” the lieutenant said as he gestured to the window behind them, “I know it’s an infection, but calling them zombies suits me just fine.” Justin raised his head in annoyance.

  “Now, you listen, Lieu…” his voice trailed off at the sight of the figure on the other side of the glass.

  I gasped at the young woman. Her jacket hung open revealing a once-white blouse, ripped and covered in blood. One of her breasts hung out, missing a big chunk of flesh. Thick, dark blood oozed from her neck where the skin had ripped. She raised her hands and started banging on the glass. Eyes as though they had been stored in ethanol stared at us. Blood smeared the window, which bestowed on the woman an ominous red sheen. Justin withdrew his gaze, swallowing a big lump.

  My focus fell on the old man, who had released his hands from his face. Some blood trickled down his wrist. I looked up at the woman standing by the window, switched to Justin, then back to the old man, and started to press myself up the wall. I had an eerie feeling this all was about to get very screwy. The old man’s head flung at me. I froze on the spot. He had the same milky white eyes as Emily and the woman banging on the window. He snapped his teeth as if he were challenging me. His nose sniffed the air like a wild dog, and then he shook his head. Overclouded eyes drifted past me and landed on the two flight attendants. The old man fumbled with his limbs as if he had to figure out how they worked. His body jerked as he scrambled his way across the floor on all fours. He went straight by me and threw himself at the women. The blonde squealed when he sunk his teeth into her. She kicked and screamed, but the old man struck her like a hyena.

  The lieutenant tackled the old man. He was quick to pull him off the blonde, but it was too late. Her mouth fell open to suck in a breath that would never find her lungs. I could see the despair in her eyes, the reality that it was over hitting, fused with an unwillingness to let go. I had seen it before.

  Justin just stood there, staring at me. Taken aback, I returned his gaze. Had he noticed how the old man went straight by me? A moment passed as the blonde’s bright blue eyes fogged over. Her struggle stopped with a whimper.

  “Out. Now,” Justin commanded. His voice boomed in the small office space. In a motion derived more out of muscle memory than bravery, I grabbed the arm of the remaining flight attendant and pulled her to the door.

  The lieutenant had the old man pinned down with an office chair. The old man’s arms flailed, and his teeth snapped at the air. The lieutenant’s voice remained steady when he said, “Captain, we won’t have backup.” He kept his weight firmly on the chair.

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” Justin said. Huddled by the door, Justin looked me over before he turned to the remaining flight attendant.

  “Are you okay?” he asked as he placed an arm on her shoulder. I involuntarily raised my eyebrows at that. Why couldn’t I get an ‘Are you okay?’ My face straightened at a hollow moan that did not come from underneath an office chair.

  “Still think I’m breaking down,” I asked Justin. He glared at me for a second until the lieutenant forced his attention.

  “Cap,” he said. Justin followed his lieutenant’s gaze to the corner of the room. He took a quick look out the window.

  “Move, now,” he said. He opened the door just as the tall blonde behind me stood. I pushed the flight attendant out the door and followed, the lieutenant behind me. He closed it seconds before a loud thud followed from the other side. In the hall, Justin had kicked the woman with the breast hanging out who had been standing at the window. She lay sprawled on her back, clawing her arms and legs in the air. Two shots turned her face into a bloody mess.

  We followed Justin along the hallways of doors, windows, and blue carpet. The lieutenant held his rifle at the ready as he made up the rear. Every time he pulled the trigger, I jumped, but I couldn’t keep myself from looking. He too seemed to know the head was the best way to dispose of zombies. Infected airport staff, tourists, and business suits whose lifeless corpses flopped to the ground once the lieutenant had them in his sights and pulled the trigger. We stopped at a door marked with an emergency exit sign. Justin opened it a crack, and the landing looked clear. We all filed through behind him.

  The soldiers checked the stairs going up and down. I crawled into a corner to catch my breath. My pulse raced and my legs burned as if acid had replaced the blood in my veins. I was seriously out of shape.

  “Stairs clear,” the lieutenant said as he kneeled by my side.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, looking me over. He kept his voice low so the others wouldn’t hear. I felt my cheeks flush red. I knew I shouldn’t have felt embarrassed, but I couldn’t help it. My shitty physique could put them all in danger.

  “I’m not in the best shape of my life,” I said and rubbed a self-conscious hand over my fuzzy hair. The gesture generally said enough to avoid explanations beyond that. It worked. The lieutenant nodded with empathy etched across his face, which made me feel even worse.

  “So, now what?” I asked to divert the attention from me before the others could join the conversation.

  “Good question,” the lieutenant said to his commanding officer.

  “We head down and search for a vehicle. There should be a perimeter by now. We’ll hook up with them,” Justin said.

  “I’m not going down there,” I said breathily but determined. Both men looked at me in dismay.

  “I want to go home,” the slim flight attendant interjected. I could understand that sentiment. The men ignored her, their dubious eyes on me. I cleared my throat. My fear had spoken out of turn, which meant my brain now had to come up with something that didn’t sound too much cowardly.

  “There’s too many of them; we have to put as much distance between them and us as we can,” I said. “That is a freaking departure hall down there. We’ll be overrun in seconds.”

  Justin narrowed his eyes at me, but the lieutenant nodded.

  “She has a point, Captain,” the lieutenant said. Justin seemed to agree.

  “All right, because of the curfew there shouldn’t have been that many office workers when this shit hit. We head up one flight, se
arch out a floor plan, and head for the most remote parking lot we can find,” Justin said. “Are you game?”

  His stern look forced me to nod. “I’m game.”

  Justin placed a hand on the lieutenant’s shoulder. “Mags, this is Lieutenant Rodrigo Marsden—”

  “Call me Mars,” the lieutenant said, cutting Justin off.

  “Mars,” I said, as my lips curved into a tiny smile, “like the candy.”

  “Mags,” Mars said, stretching the name. His goofy expression made me grin.

  “What’s your name?” Justin asked the flight attendant. I looked over and saw her blue uniform streaked with her colleague’s blood. She glanced up with a tear-filled gaze, her face puffy with eyes as dark as her hair. She took a breath.

  “My name is Elizabeth,” she said with a shaky voice and a thick British accent. I had to bite my lip to stifle a laugh. She didn’t just share the queen’s name but sounded like her as well.

  “My name is Captain Justin Decker,” he said, “but you can call me Decks.”

  I looked at him in surprise. “I thought you went by Justin.”

  “That name is reserved for when I want tall, beautiful women with buzzed haircuts to follow me,” he said and gave me a mischievous smile. Despite being annoyed, I felt a blush creeping up my face, and I subconsciously rubbed my head. Mars snorted a laugh. A laugh that reached his brilliant eyes without suggesting concern or pity warmed me inside. He seemed amused at my awkwardness at receiving a compliment.

  Then a howling scream that sent shivers down my spine bounced off the concrete walls of the staircase.