Dead Air (Book 1 of the Biohazard Saga)

Chapter 12: Mayday (Part 1)

Although my head felt that like it was being thumped by mallets and the vision in my left eye was foggy, the sight of my friend in trouble and Nate's unconscious body fueled a torrent of adrenaline as I knocked Mr Davis off Isabella and we went smashing into the wall.

The flight attendant ran over to Isabella and tried to help her to her feet. She looked dazed and was coughing relentlessly. I wanted to check on her and Nate, but I had bigger problems on my hand.

Though winded, Mr Davis was quick to recover and punched me in the gut. I felt the air leave my body and I fell to my knees gasping. Mr Davis tried to make a beeline for the door, but I managed to grab his leg and yanked it hard enough for him to stumble and fall.

Now, I'm not a violent person. Heck, I've never so much hurt a fly. But on that day, I realised just what I was capable of when I let anger take over. Riled and bruising all over, I punched Mr Davis square in the face. I must have really put my back into it because the next thing I knew, his nose exploded in a haze of blood.

I reeled back, my fingers screaming in pain.

Like a frantic animal, Mr Davis clutched his broken nose with one hand and flail about, managing to kick me away. He got to his feet groggily and looked disorientated.

Leaning against the wall, clutching my injured hand, I don't think my body would have allowed me to go in for round 2. The adrenaline was running out and all the injuries I had sustained in the past 10 minutes were beginning to crash back down on me.

Isabella had finally recovered enough to rush over to Nate. She held up his hand and felt for a pulse. Turning to me, she cried excitedly, 'Thank goodness. He is still alive Keith!' Rachel had gone over to her side and was trying to shake her brother awake.

Amidst all the commotion, no one had noticed several of the creatures that had made their way into the cabin. With a scream, the flight attendant who had been standing furthest away from us was grabbed from behind as a set of jaws clamped down on her hand. She tried to use her other hand to hit the creature but found that she couldn't even move it... another creature had grabbed it and was bringing it towards its gaping maw.

Mustering all the strength I had left, I brushed past Mr Davis who was trying to wipe away the blood that was spewing down his face. Isabella was shielding Rachel from the sight of the flight attendant being ripped apart by the creatures. Using my uninjured hand, I gently lifted Nate over my shoulder and Isabella carried Rachel in her arms.

Together we crept past Mr Davis who was feeling the walls trying to get his bearings. We made it to the bathroom once more and I gently lay Nate down on the floor. 'What are we going to do about him,' asked Isabella, nodding towards Mr Davis. 'We can't just leave him out there, no matter how much of a jerk he was.'

A part of me wanted to just close the door on him. This crazed man who knocked out a little kid and tried to kill someone I cared about. He was dangerous. His actions had just gotten that poor flight attendant killed. Allowing him in would be suicide... who knows what he could do to us in here.

'Why should we? He tried to kill you... and we don't even know how bad Nate's condition is. What if he had a concussion? We can't take the risk of him losing it in here because I'm not exactly in a great state to protect us all.'

Isabella looked me dead in the eye. 'I didn't ask for your protection. And what's more, Keith Lee... you're not a killer, and neither am I. Leaving him out there would be sentencing him to death. I've seen enough death today.'

I sighed. As usual, Isabella had a point. I left the bathroom and edged towards Mr Davis. Miraculously, the flight attendant was still alive, though from the gruesome sight I saw... it was better if she had died instantly. My heart ached for her as she had come back for me after I had been clobbered, but there was nothing I could do now.

I turned away from her pleading eyes as a creature dug its nails into it, her screams now barely audible as there was no longer a throat to channel the sound. This was by far the worse death I had experienced today, and I was hoping it would be my last. With the flight attendant now dead, the creatures turned their attention to us.

'Mr Davis, come to me. We need to get inside the bathroom. Hurry! Those creatures are coming!' I shouted, my panic rising. 'You need to get here right now!' Rather than responding to me, Mr Davis seemed more disoriented than ever. He got on his knees and looked like he was fumbling around for something.

To my horror, I realised that he wasn't mindlessly searching for something. Somehow during our scuffle, his glasses must have been knocked off. I quickly ran over and grabbed his arm, intending on guiding him to the safety of the bathroom but he pulled his hand back and shoved me back... hard.

I groaned as I landed hard on the floor. Mr Davis stood wild-eyed and a triumphant smile etched across his face as his hands fell on something behind him.

'NO, MR DAVIS! THAT ISN'T THE BATHROOM! DON'T DO IT!' I screamed.

"I'm safe now. I'm safe now," he muttered, as I saw his fingers grasp the handle.

"OH GOD, NO,' I screamed and dashed for the bathroom, every precious second counting. Making it just in the nick of time, I slammed the door and effectively locked it tight. My heart palpitated wildly as I pulled Rachel close and huddled with Isabella who was cradling Nate in her lap.

Outside, Mr Davis, on the brink of a nervous breakdown and whose vision was now a fog of blurry images, pulled at the handle his hands has found just moments earlier. Perhaps if he was in a better state of mind or had his glasses on, he might have noticed the sign plastered over the door. Or the fact that the handle required a significant amount of force to move. Or perhaps the fact that the handle was totally different than that of the bathroom. Then again, perhaps he knew exactly what he was about to do, corned by the grief of losing both his wife and daughter.

However, no one would truly know the reason why he did what he did. All that everyone would remember was that his decision would seal the fate of all those onboard.

At 33,000 feet above sea level, as the afternoon sun shone along the horizon, Mr Davis pulled opened the emergency door of the aircraft. The force of explosive decompression at that altitude caused the door to be ripped off its hinges and hit the plane's rudder. No time to utter a single scream, Mr Davis was sucked out of the now gaping hole in the rear cabin, knocked unconscious immediately from the force of the wind and whose body would later smash into the sea, breaking nearly every bone in his body and rupturing all his internal organs.

For the passengers and crew that survived the initial attack from the undead, their lives now hung in the balance as the plane dipped towards the ocean and began its downward plunge.

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Captain Sanders grappled with his controls as alarms were going off all over the control panels. He was breathing heavily and sweat was dripping from every corner of his face. Judging from the extent of the damage, there was nothing – not even his twenty years of experience in the air force – that could save the crippled airliner.

'Mayday, Mayday! This is VTA Air Flight 267, requesting immediate assistance. We have lost most of our instruments and flight controls. Mayday, Mayday! We are going down. I repeat... we are going down!'