The soldier in charge jogged over to Phil. “Where’s the patient?”
Phil pointed back at Tommy, who was being pushed over the wall. For a minute, they had to drag him along, but only because he thought Grace was still back behind the berm. When he saw her with Phil near the chopper, he straightened up and walked on his own. The soldiers were content to follow him peacefully, keeping their guns aimed at the ground, as long as he was headed in the right direction.
The soldier nodded and jerked his head back at the chopper. Phil took that as a signal to get onboard, so he pulled Grace with him and climbed through the single door. Inside, an aisle ran up through the rows of seats, three on one side, two on the other. He dragged Grace up to the first row behind the cockpit and threw the girl into the seat nearest the window.
Phil stuck his head into the cockpit. “Soon as the patient is onboard, we’re out of here, you got me?” He left before the pilot could answer and went back down the aisle and stood in the doorway. Tommy was making his way across the plaza, getting closer to the whipping blades, but still moving unbelievably slow.
“Hurry the fuck up!” Phil yelled. His words were lost in the wash of the rotors. No matter. Tommy would be inside the chopper within thirty seconds, and they would be safely in the air, leaving all the shooting and infection and death beneath them. They would deliver Tommy to Dr. Reischtal, and Phil and Lee could take their rightful place in the media as heroes of the pandemic.
Phil was just beginning to bask in the glow of the anticipated admiration, and yes, even awe, when the lights of the city disappeared, plunging Chicago into near total darkness.
Every light surrounding the plaza winked out, and the only illumination left came from the blue flashing lights of the Sikorsky. The soldiers let loose with a few panicked bursts of gunfire, then stopped when they realized they couldn’t see anything. The soldier closest to Tommy said, “Oh . . . you fucking, oh fuck . . .”
Tommy guessed one of the fires or explosions in the subways had fried one of the ComEd transformer stations. It had happened before, leaving most of the Loop without power for a summer afternoon. Beyond that, he ignored the darkness, focusing only on Grace, somewhere on that chopper. It was lit up like an angry, monochromatic Christmas tree, settled in the middle of Daley Plaza and none too happy about it.
As he got closer though, Tommy faced the stark realization that once he was onboard, it would be over. Once he was inside, they would continue to use Grace against him. He was back where he started, powerless while they threatened his daughter.
He ducked under the massive spinning blades, crept to the doorway, and stopped. He’d gotten far enough ahead of the soldiers that he could afford to sit and wait a moment.
Phil stuck his head out and saw Tommy just standing there. It drove Phil crazy. “Get inside, now!”
“No,” Tommy said.
Phil pulled a snub-nosed .38 from his waistband. It looked like something an old-fashioned mobster would carry. Beyond five feet, it was about as accurate as a crumpled paper airplane. He’d be lucky to hit a tank if he was shooting from inside. Phil had waved away the teasing from his buddies at their dinners. “If I’m not up close enough to let this baby take care of a problem, then I deserve to die for being a dumb fuck.”
He shook the pistol at Tommy. “Get in here!”
“Go ahead. Shoot me,” Tommy said, knowing damn well that Phil wouldn’t.
Phil smiled. “Not gonna shoot you, asshole. I’m gonna shoot your fucking daughter.”
Lee came out of the darkness, struggling to pull away from the clutches of Kimmy. She was whimpering, begging for something. Lee ripped his arm out of her grasp. Lee had his own Glock out. He finally shoved it in her chest. “Stupid cunt, shut the fuck up.”
“Thank Christ,” Phil said and pointed at Tommy. “Get this cocksucker on board.”
Lee put the Glock back in his shoulder holster, hopped out of the chopper, and came in low. Tommy tried to pivot, tried to get his arms up, tried to follow the bigger man’s movements, but Tommy hadn’t had anything solid to eat in nearly four days, hadn’t gotten any decent sleep, and simply didn’t know enough about bare-knuckle brawling to stop Lee.
Lee hit Tommy twice, an easy left-right combination that knocked Tommy to the ground. Tommy tried to push himself off the cement, but Lee kicked him in the ribs. And just like that, the fight was finished.
Lee grabbed the back of Tommy’s scrubs and lifted him off the ground. Tommy struggled, but only managed to twist in Lee’s grasp, and clung weakly to Lee’s head and shoulders. He drew back one feeble fist, and Lee drove his own fist into Tommy’s stomach. The air exploded out of Tommy’s lungs and he collapsed in defeat, sliding his hands down Lee’s chest as he crumpled in half. He huddled on the ground, tears spilling down through the dust and grit on his cheeks.
Lee threw Tommy inside the helicopter, then climbed on after him. Kimmy followed.
Tommy tried to crawl down the aisle to reach Grace. Somewhere, he could hear his daughter screaming, “Daddy! Daddy!” He kept crawling forward, head spinning, pain ricocheting through his body.
Shooting erupted outside.
CHAPTER 76
9:11 PM
August 14
It was the infected.
They came swarming out of the darkness, unheard over the throbbing rotors of the Sikorsky. The first soldiers saw them and started shooting immediately. The ear-shattering sound of the gunfire and the muzzle flashes drew the infected like moths to hot neon. They attacked with the speed of shadows, tearing the soldiers apart before the victims’ eyes could adjust to the darkness.
Those inside the helicopter stared out through the few tiny windows, but couldn’t see much beyond the incessant muzzle flashes as the fully automatic assault rifles ripped great swaths in the night, cutting down the infected by the dozens. But for every one that fell, another ten took their place. The soldiers tightened their perimeter, backing slowly to the Sikorsky, firing nonstop.
The infected got close enough that Lee could see them in the glow of the landing lights. He yelled up the cabin at Phil, “Oh, shit! They’re everywhere!”
Phil opened the cockpit door again, and said, “Go! Go!”
Something smashed the door into Phil’s head, stunning him enough that he dropped to his knees. His revolver fell to the floor.
Tommy was on his hands and knees, but he wasn’t helpless. He’d been waiting for his chance. So when Phil stuck his head in the cockpit door, Tommy launched himself at the door and drove his shoulder into it, slamming Phil’s head in the doorframe. As Phil dropped, Tommy came up and turned to catch Grace, who had leapt out of her seat and wrapped her arms around her daddy’s neck.
He rose to his feet and started back down the aisle.
Lee blocked his way. He smiled. “I’m gonna be there when that crazy fuck cuts into you. I want to watch the—”
Tommy didn’t have the time. He shifted Grace to the side, still holding her with his left hand, and pulled Lee’s Glock out of his waistband with his right. He’d slipped it out of Lee’s shoulder holster when Lee had been lifting him outside of the chopper. After faking the extent of the blow so he could curl up and slip it into his pants, he’d let himself be thrown onboard, keeping the pistol pinned to his hip with his elbow.
As he brought it up, there was just enough time for the expression on Lee’s face to crumble from a satisfied smirk to a narrowing of the eyes. He was reaching for his holster, as if to check if his handgun was still there, when Tommy shot him in the face at point-blank range.