Then we were airborne again as the chopper bounced, my guesstimate later would be somewhere in the eight or nine foot range, but I didn’t even realize it was happening at the time. Except for the list to my side, I almost stuck my hand out to the side to brace for impact. I’m glad I was too petrified to peel them away from my seat I would have shattered my arm in a dozen places. The glass shell completely dissolved as we again became earth bound. I was completely on my side strapped in to the seat; my face was mere inches from the grass. An ant carrying what looked like a cricket leg walked right under my watchful gaze. The only noise was the knocking of the cooling engine, the slamming of my blood through my arteries and John the Tripper moaning.
I scrambled with my harness and finally found the release button I fell the rest of the way to the ground. My body ached, I felt like a giant baby had used me as a rattle. I couldn’t get my equilibrium to come back to center for long moments. When I could finally get my feet underneath me with some semblance of balance I went back to the copter, blood was pouring from John’s head.
“Fuck,” I said as I cradled him in one arm and released his harness with the other. I put him as gently to the ground as I could. “John, you alright?” I asked as I gingerly moved his tin foil hat and his hair to the side to assess what kind of damage he had incurred.
He started to move his hand up to his head. At first I figured to hold his aching head, but it was actually to put his hat back on. The cut was on the top of his forehead right below the hairline. The pale white of his skull shone through dully as blood filled in the void. His skull looked intact and his head was bleeding like all head wounds do: profusely. But he was in no danger. He’d have a killer headache, but I figured he had enough self-medication to take care of that anyway.
I would have taken my shirt off and used it as a bandage, but between the dirt and my earlier vomit, he was more likely to catch a staph infection and die from my ministrations than anything from the head wound. I started rooting around in our destroyed flying machine until I found what I was looking for, a small first aid kit tucked under the pilot’s seat. Although, on further reflection, I had to wonder what the makers of this craft were thinking when they put that there. I mean really, would you be in this little flying beer can and realize you needed a Band-Aid or what? That this little pack of bandages was really going to come in handy during a crash?
Then, yup, it dawned on me…it was coming in handy during a full scale crash. I did a small ‘hat’s off’ gesture to the brilliant engineers.
“Oh, flying monkeys…I get it,” John said as I had propped him up against the wreckage and was finishing dressing his wound.
“We should get going,” I told him. The noise of the crash was going to attract attention, whether zombie or human didn’t matter, both were to be feared equally. “Can you walk?”
“Been doing it since I was a baby, I don’t know why that would change now.”
I helped him up. He wobbled for a moment. “Nice! Cheap buzz. My head is killing me.”
“I can’t imagine why.” I looked one last time at the copter; it now resembled something more along the lines of what some modern artist would make with scrap metal. God had again shown his hand, we should not have survived that crash. “Listen, I’m starting to understand that whole ‘I am your instrument’ thing,” I said to the heavens. “But is there any chance I could get some upgrades? Like maybe laser beam eyes, or the ability to fly? No, wait, I take that last one back. How about some wicked strong telekinesis so I could push things out of my way.”
A slight breeze that sounded awfully close to a slight sigh wisped past us.
“Who are you talking to?” John asked as he was fishing around in his pockets to light the joint he now had in his mouth. “That’s much better,” he said with a sloppy smile as he took a big hit from the herbal medication.
“Do you mind?” I asked as I reached over. We walked away from that field, I was happy to be alive. I had survived being under the ground and then being above it. I was content to be right where I was for the moment.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Maine
“Mom, the baby kicked!” Nicole said excitedly. She had been sitting on the couch pretending to read a story, but in reality she had been daydreaming about Brendon and what could have been.
Tracy was in the kitchen washing up. She had just come in from the garden in the back. When she was confident her hands were clean and dry enough, she went over to feel her daughter’s belly. Nicole shifted her mother’s hand around to the ‘sweet’ spot.
“There! Did you feel that?” Nicole asked, her cheeks flushed with excitement.
Tracy was about to respond when a dirty, sweat-riddled Justin walked in. “Wow, when’d you get so big?” he asked his sister as he brought his bottle of water up to his lips.
“Justin!” Tracy exclaimed. “You can’t say stuff like that.”
“Why not? She’s like double her size.”
“Mom,” Nicole wailed on the verge of tears.
“Even I know better than that,” Travis said, coming in after his brother. “That’s like poking a killer whale.”
“Mom!” Nicole wailed again.
“Why are you boys in the house?” Tracy said, standing up and facing them.
“Lunch, and Uncle Ronnie didn’t want us around while they were laying the explosives. He said we were distracting,” Travis explained.
“You should see some of the stuff that Mad Jack’s got planned, it’s pretty impressive.” Justin said already forgetting he had barbed his sister.
“Almost seems like a waste…haven’t seen a zombie in at least two weeks,” Travis said in response.
“Oh, they’re coming,” Justin said as he absently rubbed his head.
“You know something we all should?” Tracy asked her son, all too aware of the connection he had shared with Eliza.
“Don’t worry, mom, she isn’t there anymore. (Mostly) It’s a feeling I keep getting.”
“I hope you’re wrong,” Nicole told her brother as she protectively wrapped her arms around her burgeoning belly.
“Me too.” He shuddered in response.
“I’m starving, is there anymore of that venison Aunt Nancy cooked up last night?” Travis asked.
I love teenagers, Tracy thought. What other creature on the planet could forgo just about everything else for the sake of filling its belly? Then she thought of her husband and laughed, he could do the same thing. She ached for his return. There were unfathomable depths that yearned to have him back by her side, the warmth of his touch, his humor in the face of evil, his protection of the family, his loyalty to his friends. She could not imagine walking through the world without him by her side. She wanted to believe with all her being that he was still alive, that it would take more than death itself to rip him from her side. But until she had true proof, the sound of his voice, or his hand on her cheek she could only go with Henry and his connection to Mike. It had some comfort value, because somehow, the dog seemed to know. She still longed for more, though.
“Mom? I’m hungry remember,” Travis goaded her.
“You know you are eighteen and completely capable of getting your own meal, right?” she replied.
“What fun would that be?” Travis asked, leading the way back into the kitchen.
“You alright, sister?” Justin asked Nicole.
“I miss Brendan, and I’m not sure if I believe dad is still alive like mom…and I miss him so much. I’m as big as a tractor trailer and my ankles are killing me. Other than that, not so good.”