Shatterbones Page 5

  “That brings me to my second point.” The pilot brings the conversation back to him. “Being let into this secure location depends on us being able to get there safely. A lot of people live in the Salem/Kaiser area and the road to this place could be just as bad as the area we left? Where is this facility and how do we get there?”

  Frank and Craig look at each other in silence.

  “Listen up, assholes. I saved your lives getting you off the ground back there, so you owe me. I don’t care how secret this place is supposed to be, you need to tell all of us how to get there.”

  “He’s right,” Greg adds. “Seven of your men came to our house, and there were another nine at the airport waiting for us but now there is just the two of you. We all need to know how to get there, and I mean exactly how to get to this place. There aren’t great odds that any of us, let alone you two, will survive the trip. If you both die or we all get separated, we still need to know how to reach the facility if we manage to survive the trip.”

  Nodding, Craig replies, “It’s on the Willamette University campus, at Ford Hall. They finished the building in 2009 and a secure shelter was built underneath. It’s two or three stories underground, possibly more.”

  “Good. Now what do we do if we can’t land at Salem airport? Do you have a secondary location to take these two? If you do, it better be within a few miles of Salem because I won’t have the fuel remaining to take this loaded plane even as far as Portland.”

  “Portland does have the secondary site, but I wouldn’t want to go there even if you did have the fuel. If Salem is overrun, then Portland will be worse. You’re the pilot, you must know the area, right? If we can’t land in Salem, then the choice is yours to go wherever you think we can safely set down this plane.”

  *

  The flight over McNary Field Airport in Salem was disappointing to say the least. Two of the behemoths were patrolling the runways amidst a collection of destroyed planes and vehicles. Several jets littered the ground that resembled the plane in which the Cavanaughs were supposed to make their escape from Eugene. They could be the private jets of any wealthy person, but with the government’s history of purchasing many identical items at once in an attempt to save funds, the likelihood is those wrecked craft below belonged to other senators or representatives that were headed to Ford Hall’s shelter.

  “I hope some of them made it.”

  The sentiment is shared, but the reality of that happening is less likely.

  “I’m going to fly over Salem and Kaiser to see what things look like on the streets. If it isn’t as bad as the airport, we might be able to land outside of these cities somewhere and make our way in.”

  The amount of fires that could be seen blazing around the adjacent cities expressed the tale of destruction below them without the visual flyby the pilot wanted; no one questioned him, however. Whether he needed to be sure about what was down there or he needed time to figure out where to go next, no one pressed him to move on.

  Salem’s streets do not look like Eugene’s in one very large respect: Salem is filled with the behemoth monsters and has much more destruction. The fast, pale mutants are on the streets as well jumping around while chasing down prey. The larger lumbering brutes seem to wander aimlessly destroying everything in their path.

  “Hey look at this,” the pilot says as he starts circling the plane in a spot over the city. “One of those giants is in a park getting attacked by the pale mutants.”

  The group watches out the window as three of the pale mutants jump on and attack the large creature. They are flung about by the monstrous brute as wildly and easily as they were throwing the agents at the airport. The group collectively recoils as one of the pale mutants is torn in half by the beast, each piece casually cast aside.

  “Well, pilot, like I said before, it’s your call on finding a safe place to put us down.”

  “John Rutledge. That’s my name.”

  The plane takes a sharp turn and starts ascending.

  “You know where we’re headed?” Ronald asks.

  “We’re extremely low on fuel. Ten to fifteen minutes of flight time left. I’m taking us to the Santiam Forest in the mountains. If they are mutated children like you say, there will be fewer of these things in the mountains than in the towns. I will follow Highway 22 to make sure we have a place to land when we run out of fuel.”

  “Follow 22 and landing without fuel, shouldn’t we put down earlier? My wife needs a doctor.”

  “Greg, Mr. Cavanaugh, I’m sorry, I truly am. I flew around Salem and Kaiser to look at the hospital areas hoping we could bring your wife to safety. There is no way we can land in or near a city with all of those things down there. How can we get her to safety when she probably can’t walk let alone run right now? I’ll follow Highway 22, toward the mountains and put the plane down when we have too.”

  “Shouldn’t you take us to the next nearest airport or runway, even if it’s a small strip somewhere?”

  “Our nation’s highways were built with the prospect of military transport and travel or planes needing to make emergency landings occasionally. Built into every highway in the USA, there are level, one-mile sections for planes to land. As long as I keep us close to that highway, we will have a safe place to put the plane down provided there aren’t any of those things or accidents on the road at the time.

  “What I will try to do is take us down close enough to a small town so we can find a vehicle, but not so close enough to be immediately overrun. I’m hoping we can make it as far as Mill City or Gates, they are both just outside the forest on the highway.”

  “Taking a vehicle from a small town local isn’t going to be easy or painless. Especially since we’ll need a truck to carry all seven of us,” Frank says.

  “Six of us,” Ronald replies. “This man is dead.”

  “Do any of you know his name?”

  Ronald goes through his pockets and pulls out his wallet. There is a picture of the pilot standing next to what must be his wife. They are smiling and posing next to each other at some event or party. The picture is passed around to the others.

  “His name was Terry Bradford.”

  Greg grabs the picture last, writes the man’s name on the back, and puts it in his pocket. Evelyn begins to moan again and pulls Greg’s head to hers. Crying into his ears in an attempt to whisper but everyone can hear.

  “They killed our baby, Greg. Those monsters killed both of our babies.”

  She has miscarried their child.

  Chapter Six

  Leisurely Stroll

  Oregon

  The scenery over the countryside appeared serene from the air compared to the mayhem people were most likely dealing with down there. Wrecked vehicles on the road below looked like they were simply parked at odd angles rather than betraying their devastating ends. The group witnessed what appeared to be a new game being played on the roads. A cross between the hundred yard dash, leap frog, and tackle football played out over and over again.

  Regardless the distance from the city, this same deadly game was replayed below them. What hope of finding a safe place to survive is there when the children of the world have violently turned on their parents and society. There might have been a small hope of containment had this event occurred during the school year. Maybe then, with most children relegated to specific locations and buildings, government and military forces could have quarantined those areas with the most mutated children. Maybe, but not likely. They are too strong, too fast for containment without foreknowledge to be possible.

  “We’re getting close,” John announces to the others from the front. “The next town coming up is Mill City, and I’m going to set the plane down right after we pass it. The road starts curving as it heads into the mountain pass, and we won’t make it to another straight stretch with the fuel we have remaining.

  “I’ll circle the area once to check the roadway and the town’s condition before I set us down, but won’t be able to t
ake us anywhere else if the area looks bad.”

  Mill City has one fire and a few wrecked cars that can be seen from the air, but the truly hopeful sign is two large groups of people moving through the streets below. They are traveling too slowly to be mutants and seem to be organized in defensive circles.

  “At least the people in this town have banded together in order to survive,” Greg says.

  “The sentiment is nice, but there had to be a small number of mutations in this town for them to survive in the open like they are. That and a hell of a lot of guns.”

  “I’m going to land now. We can find out how safe this town is once we’re down there. If it’s good, maybe we’ll be able to stay in this area with someone.”

  With the relative calm of Mill City, the pilot circles the highway and lands facing west so they will be closest to the town when they stop. The plane is taxied into an empty lot next to the road, and they climb out with guns ready for the next attack. Instead of a silent attacker jumping at them, the sound of a vehicle coming up the road greets them.

  A truck swerves into the lot they are in and skids to a halt in the dirt and gravel.

  “Can you take me with you?” the man yells jumping from his truck and running to the plane’s open door.

  “It’s out of fuel, we can’t take it anywhere right now.”

  “Damn it! God damn it! You people have no idea what kind of shit storm you just landed in.”

  “If you mean the children mutating, it’s happening everywhere. This is worldwide.”

  “No. It can’t be.”

  “It is. We just came from Eugene and flew over Salem. Right now, those cities are being destroyed. Look, mister, we flew over Mill City and saw the people there all gathered together in groups to fight. That isn’t happening any other place yet and looks to be our best bet for survival. Can you drive us down there?”

  “Look, I was headed to the forest to a camping spot I know and stopped here thinking you could get me somewhere farther away to safety. If you want to come with me you can, but I’m not going back to Mill City, I just made it out.”

  “You don’t seem to understand how dangerous these things are. I just told you they destroyed Eugene and Salem. Those Mill City defensive groups are our best bet to survive the mutants.”

  “They aren’t defensive groups, those people are being herded. They were captured by the mutants and are being herded like cattle. If you want to head there, go ahead, but you’ll be rounded up and kept for feeding. I’m heading to the forest right now. If you want to go with me, get in.”

  The man jumps in, starts up his truck and throws his hands up in the cabin before yelling, “Are you coming or not?”

  Frank gets in the cab with the driver while Greg helps Evelyn climb into the truck bed after the others. As soon as everyone is in, the trucks wheels start spinning in the dirt and the truck takes a left on the road toward Mill City.

  “Hey, what are you doing, the forest is the other way.”

  The driver pulls a pistol on Frank. “I’m sorry man, I really am. They have my sister back there. They told me I could go out to your plane, and if I brought people back, they would let me have her and we could leave!”

  As soon as the truck turned left, the others knew something was wrong as well. Two handguns and a rifle are pointed at the driver’s head through the rear window of the truck but with the driver’s gun on Frank and the truck gaining speed, shooting him could kill them all.

  Frank tries to knock the man’s gun away, but fails. Frank’s head jerks to the right with the explosion of bullet and blood right before three triggers are pulled sending bullets into the head and back of the driver.

  The truck swerves to the right and violently bounces in the small ditch next to a steep hill which brings the truck to a standstill while almost turning over. Agent Miller jumps out of the back and pulls the driver’s body out of the truck. He picks up the man’s gun and climbs into the driver’s seat in an effort to back the truck off the incline and get them headed to the forest.

  “What the hell is going on? Why was he taking us into Mill City?” Ronald calls through the shot-out rear window.

  “I don’t know and we aren’t waiting for anyone else to come along to find out!” Craig yells back.

  He gets the truck turned around and ready to speed off to the east. He can’t see to drive because of the gore from the driver’s head plastered on the bullet shattered windshield in front of him. He doesn’t want to use any more ammo or make the extra noise but is forced to shoot at the windshield several times to break it enough in order to kick it out.

  Once the glass is gone, he puts the truck in drive and speeds them east to the forest. They still have to drive through the town of Gates, which is just up the road before they are into the non-populated portion of the highway.

  “We aren’t clear yet, so get your guns ready!” he calls back. “Anything could come out of the town up ahead to try and stop us.”

  “Or anyone,” Greg says quietly but is still heard.

  The town of Gates flies by in less than a minute at the speed Craig is driving. It is fortunate that no wrecks or roadblocks were set up along the route; he likely would not have been able to stop.

  The only sign of life they witnessed was a lone figure disappearing in the distance, a man or woman, that walked out into the road after they passed. It could have been a regular person or one of the mutant kids, but at their speed, even a mutant couldn’t catch them.

  “Shit…shit, shit!” Craig yells from behind the wheel. “This truck is on empty, we won’t be going very far.”

  “Even on empty, most vehicles can make it thirty or more miles,” Ronald offers.

  “Yeah, but I don’t know how long that guy had it on empty. We’re going to have to find a safe place to go soon. I think we should follow the next road that can take us into the hills.”

  The next road they come to is one they quickly pass due to the houses in the area. They can’t risk a chance on running into a mutant and any house or community could mean kids.

  They find their first non-occupied road just past the Big Cliff Dam. It’s a small dirt road that runs adjacent to a dry creek bed.

  “This looks like our best bet,” he says as he drives the truck up the dusty lane. I hope this takes us somewhere we can survive, he thinks to himself.

  They drive slowly along the road for a couple of miles seeing nothing but hill-covered trees.

  “How long do you think we’ll be able to survive on our own in the forest with no supplies?” Ronald asks.

  “I’m perfectly willing to let you head back to one of those towns after I get these people somewhere safe,” he snaps back.

  “Don’t jump all over me. I’m just thinking beyond the moment. We’ll have to find shelter if we want to make it through this…this…”

  “Clusterfuck,” John adds.

  Ronald nods. “Exactly! I haven’t seen anything along this road, and Mrs. Cavanaugh isn’t looking good.”

  The sputtering truck engine makes up their minds for them on where they should go. They are out of gas and will have to look for a place to stay, along this road or in trees and hills.

  The group gathers around the bed of the dead truck. Evelyn looks pale, but says she is no longer having severe cramps.

  “We can’t wander off into the forest or we’ll get lost, and there isn’t anything behind us for miles so our choices are pretty basic. We can keep walking up this road or make a camp near the truck in the woods here.”

  “I’m feeling better, but not well enough to keep wandering without hope of a fixed destination,” Evelyn offers.

  “Unless we find a map of the area in this man’s truck that shows a resort hotel just up the road, I think we should make a camp here and keep going up the road tomorrow morning.”

  Shared looks and nods are given by everyone.

  “We also have to take care of Frank’s body,” Craig says motioning with his head to the truck’
s passenger seat.

  With heads hung, they remove him from the truck and lay him on the road as gently as possible.

  “I don’t think we should just leave him here, but I’m not sure what to do with him. Any suggestions?”

  “There isn’t a shovel in the truck, and we also don’t have any food,” Ronald says. “As cold as this will sound, I think we should leave him here. We need to conserve our energy because we don’t know when we’ll eat again and trying to bury him or take him somewhere else will cost us too much.”

  “What about predators?” Greg asks.

  “If a wolf or bear is in the area, it’s better for them to take Frank’s body than to come after one of us,” Craig says grimly. “At least it will be a better end than those poor people who will be rotting in the city streets around the world.”

  The group awkwardly look at each other while absorbing what he just said.

  “All right, I’ll check out this side of the road for a decent campsite,” Ronald says and walks off.

  “I need to relieve myself, so Greg and I can check this side,” Evelyn offers.

  “I’ll carry Frank’s body to the base of those trees over there if you can help me,” he says to John.

  Before they can head into the trees, a shadow quickly passes over them, and they get a glimpse of something large moving through the air before the trees obscure their view.

  “What the hell was that, was that a plane?”

  “I don’t hear an engine, but it could have been some kind of drone,” the pilot offers.

  The hair stands up on Greg and Evelyn’s necks.

  “This doesn’t feel right,” Ronald exclaims in solidarity to the others feelings.

  Then the flying shadow returns, moving over them once again, then another time before landing in the road below them.

  “Please don’t shoot at me,” the topless winged woman before them exclaims to the groups raised and shivering firearms. Pointing to the trees, she says, “If you shoot, they will attack you, and I don’t want you to be harmed.”