"Dave!"
"Everyone wake up! Wake up! Time to go."
I saw a blurred face in front of me and muffled sounds of the boys yelling. I had just opened my eyes up. I can feel the strong breeze of the wind blowing on my face. That wind brews up. A loud and harsh noise is heard, getting closer as the wind gets stronger.
I stand up and strode. A bright, blaring spotlight lit up my blurry vision. It's the helicopter coming down. The heli went on a descent to the rooftop level. The rescue has finally come.
"Oh yeah." Dan walks up beside me. "Come here!"
I picked up my bag and all the stuff we'd brung. Some of the guys have been inside the metal bird. I looked back, finding out there are nothing left. The door that leads to the rooftop had been shut tight. Someone had to have said farewell to the people inside this big building. To Mr. Mett. To Novnav. To Esephy.
I step my feet onto the metal steps, and into the chopper.
"We are evac group-1393. I'm the driver. Varya Voize. Thanks by the way."
"Group-1393, from Mabangle?"
"Obviously."
The helicopter quickly lifts off of the building. I sat beside Serx with Vo on the right, just behind the pilots. This aircraft is enough to accommodate the whole team. We start to ascend to the dim-lit sky of the morning.
--
"How far is the safe zone, now?" Serx asked Dan on the back.
"ETA 22 minutes, if you want to know." The pilot spoke, answering him.
"What does he mean?" Serx whispered to me.
"Estimated time of arrival,"
From the clock on Serx's phone, it's 5:47. Looking outside, we are fetching the ascending sun. We can see the ocean waves washing on the shore and the sea on our left. The buildings below are blanketed in thick mist and fog. Ahead of us, the terrain is hilly, as if making a border between Astraw and the port city.
--
We are now above Krosha. We're flying low. Very low as if it's close enough for my hands to graze the highrise skyscrapers of the metro. The tall buildings are everywhere, spiking out from the ground, making a lush concrete jungle. My eyes caught countless movements. Out from the windows of the apartments, broken glass panes of the skyscrapers, and running out from the malls, down there, are zombies.
They're chasing us on the streets, like a group of children that liked to run after a passing airplane. Some of them jump out of the buildings, only to fall into their misery.
"It's a common occurrence here. They love noise so much." said the pilot, then clears his throat and sweeps his hand on the nose. "Our landing zone is inside the perimeter wall, don't worry."
From here, I can see the port. We got closer, near to arrival. Sturdy walls were built, surrounding the port, creating a barrier between the safe area and the zombified, ruined city. It looks more like a military port, with warships on the dock. A lot of people can be seen, as well as parked evac vehicles of many similar types.
"Here we go."
Our chopper flew above the wall, now proceeding to land. We start going down.
But, for some reason, the pilot looks in trouble.
He began stuttering, and the helicopter suddenly sways backward. Then immediately, forward. Left and right. The cabin shook and heavy breathing filled the air. I unbuckle my seatbelt, which is the last thing I want to do. The heli is getting dangerously closer to an air traffic control tower in the front. Red lights blinked wildly and a beep sounded from every direction.
It is going to crash onto that thing.
I know. My hand sprang forward, to grasp the pilot's hand on the yoke, the control stick. I pull it hard, just to get the direction of the heli away from the tower.
"ATC to B-34, what happened?"
The chopper stalls upward. The gravity slammed me back to the seat. Everyone screamed in terrify. Just right after that, it goes on a steep downfall, its nose towards the main gate.
It crashes the main gate, so hard that it is slightly opened. The helicopter spins uncontrollably until it smashes its tail rotor into a fifteen-meters tall building, breaking it from the fuselage. The rest of the body plummets down, while still spinning, and collapses to the main road in front of the big port's gate.
The chopper rolled.
Multiple metal clangs.
Windows shatter.
It landed in the middle of a wide road.
"Good job, Dave," Serx grunted.
It all happened in a flash of the moment before I opened my eyes to find out that the helicopter had been severely wrecked. The chassis broke, and dozens of dents peppered the interior linings. I found myself had been lying down, and somehow, it was as if everything happened so quickly that I didn't feel anything. Bags and boys are scattering the metal base. Fortunately, no fire had broken out and the helicopter didn't explode.
"What's next?" I get up from the floor, in total shock. This is times more painful than the rolling car yesterday.
"Open this door," Vo said, harshly. He's trying to pry open the jammed rolling door of the chopper.
"Stop, stop, stop. Look out!" Dan yells out.
Out from the shades of the building, zombies start to come, pursuing the fray that has just come to their vicinity. Everyone's relieved breath switched off to anxiety.
"Frick it, what the hell should we do, otherwise?" Vo argues. He kept cranking up the iron door that has dented everywhere and dropped out of the rail.
"Shoot them first!"
"It worked!" Vo said after a desperate try to lift that big metal plate so it can be pushed open. "Ok, let's do that. All of us that can shoot, get ready."
Numerous zombies start to run closer. Through the broken windows, we point our weapons. Dozens start to fall, but more keep coming. Some of those savages recklessly jump from the windows. But they keep struggling to reach us despite their obliterated legs which trip them down a bunch of times trying to reach us.
"Vo, give me your bomb," Dan speaks up.
"What for? How far can you throw it from here, huh?"
"Let me take them outta here."
"No, seriously don't! We can get this done, man."
But our ammunition will not last forever. Furthermore, I only have one magazine left. We had to somehow get out of the helicopter, and nobody had a single plan. Inside, everything turned into a commotion of the helpless boys.
Between the noise of gunfire and people speaking loudly, a subtle voice arose from somewhere. It repeats, getting lower and lower, which made it hard to find.
"Dave." It repeats.
Behind the cockpit, the pilot – now a zombie, grapples Serx's neck. Serx looked at me, his body dead-languid. He's pinned down. The pilot rained cough on him. Serx dropped down to the metal floor of the chopper. He tried to get his hands on the pilot's head - which does nothing effective to hinder him.
I fired my gun. The zombified pilot collapses on him.
"Serx!" I walked to him.
"No. Don't step closer." He pushed the dead pilot's body away just right before me. "Let's see whether that old man is right."
"What are you talking about, Serx?"
"Three weeks before the first school day."
"What?"
"I got the sickness. Case closed." Serx said. "I'm immune. I should've stayed in Esephy's chamber."
"He's got to be right. That old man's right. Now-"
"Hey, no time for a joke, you boys." Vo suddenly spoke up.
There are still several bottles of rubbing alcohol on the carriages, which he took. He closed his eye, held his breath, and poured them down on his whole body.
"This chopper will not gonna last any longer. Not because of the virus. But the aerosols. It spreads in the air, don't you remember." Serx said.
"Wear your masks, guys. Let's get out!" I shouted.
"Whoa, not so fast, are you gonna be sacrificing your ass?"
"No, we go together. Once we are outside, we can throw those bombs. Use all of your remaining weapons." Serx speaks up.
"Damn. You know, luck doesn't. Favor. Anyone." Vo walks closer to Serx.
"We got two choices. Fight and stand here still, or fight and keep moving forwards. That's it, big boss."