Fiction – Ruth’s Tale (Partially)

I have slept fitfully again in one of these damned hard uncomfortable plastic chairs. I dreamt of Aharon again; a recurring nightmare when I am stressed. I stretch and stand feeling my cramped muscles. I feel every ache and pain from three days of sleeping either on the floor or in one of these plastic airport chairs. My clothes are wrinkled, my mouth feels awful with gritty teeth, and my skin is sticky with dried sweat. I notice with disgust my body odor as I stretch again. My back is damp with sweat. I feel a trickle of sweat under my arms running over my ribs.

I immediately notice the sun is just rising. It is also unusually dark and quiet in the terminal. Many people left yesterday when the water stopped, by then most of the stores had been looted anyway. It appears I woke up during a mass exodus as I watch hundreds of people walking across the tarmac in a long straggling line heading for the city.

The air is muggy and still, with a faint odor of unwashed bodies and sewage. Of course that could be just my body odor I smell. The power is off, must have gone off last night while I slept. Running water quit day before yesterday.

This starts my fourth day stuck at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport. Just one day since the world’s governments (or at least those that were left) decided to halt all non-military air and sea traffic. No matter what, I am determined that this will be my last day at the airport!

Several airplanes still burn on the tarmac outside the international terminal. The dirty, smudgy flames reflect on the terminal glass as heavy course smoke pours into the sky. The wind is blowing the smoke away from the terminal today. While the wind was blowing the smoke towards the terminal, the cloying smell of burning flesh, airplane components and airplane fuel stung the eyes and made noses drip.

Occasionally a burning zombie stumbles from one of the planes. “Blazers” I heard the American National Guardsmen call these short-lived, but no less dangerous burning zombies in typically morbid soldier humor. I wonder how many blazers (and other zombies) are going to chase the exodus?

The last plane the Guardsmen incinerated, an American Airlines 747 has been burning for almost three days now. The United 747 that sits nearby it in the grass is full of zombies; it has large red Z’s painted all over it. The United air crew was able to crawl out of the front of the plane but the rest of the plane belongs to the living dead.

At first the National Guardsmen thought they could just leave the zombie-infested planes on the tarmac. The living trapped inside opened doors attempting to get away releasing the zombies. There were quite a few zombies wandering around the tarmac. Zombies appear to be attracted to bright light (as well as loud noises); many wandered too close to the burning planes and became blazers.

Scattered about the tarmac are several small commuter planes similarly marked with red paint. God knows how many zombies are trapped in those planes. Yesterday, a small twin engine Cessna 421 belly-crashed on the run way. The pilot and his three passengers managed to get out of the plane before the National Guard reached them. They jumped the fence and ran away from the airport. Judging by the rows of bullet holes in the Cessna, the Air Force must have shot him down enforcing the no fly zone for non-military aircraft. The Cessna 421 was the last plane to land.

The National Guard began checking all planes after a Delta 727 landed and opened to reveal more than 300 zombies that quickly poured into the airport. There was a brief and bloody fight in the domestic part of SeaTac. Day before yesterday, I talked for a few minutes with a surviving staff sergeant Guardsman from Puyallup while sharing a cigarette break, apparently afterwards many of the surviving TSA agents fled. That area of the terminal is still blocked off, the Guardsman thought there might still be several zombies wandering around in there.

If even one zombie was spotted inside an airplane, the National Guard incinerated the whole plane. The Guardsmen have now deserted the airport going who knows where. Regrettably they were all smart enough to take their weapons. It would have been nice if one Guardsman had left a weapon for me to grab. There might be some weapons lying around in the domestic flight area. I do not want to wander too far and risk running into a zombie without a weapon.

Air crews who found they were piloting a plane full of zombies often chose to do a flight 93 rather than get burnt with a flame thrower on the tarmac by the nervous National Guard. Before the power went out yesterday, what news stations were still broadcasting reported several planes crashed into the ocean.

There were thousands of people stuck here at the airport. So far that I know of I was the only Israeli. I did meet a couple of Saudi businessmen attempting to return to the Kingdom. Poor bastards spoke very little English. They were surprised that I was fluent in Arabic and Farsi. Not sure where they went.

Everyone broke into the restaurants and shops in the airport. The TSA and police did not even attempt to stop the looters for fear of inciting a greater riot. I managed to grab several liters of Dasani drinking water as well as some snack food from a pair of shattered vending machines.

Fresh water is now impossible to find. There has been some fighting between people trying to steal each other’s water. Food has been alright, but water is becoming scarce. I locked my water in my rolling carry on which I have been lying on to prevent it from being stolen. Snatch and run has been the game here with the unwary the losers.

The bathrooms are beyond disgusting because people were doing their business on the floor after the toilets overflowed. Some desolate soul hanged himself in the woman’s bathroom by baggage claim. Why he chose the woman’s bathroom to kill himself I do not know. Between his rotting corpse and the overflowing toilets, the cloying smell is near impossible to get out of your clothes and nose.

Everyone is leaving the airport which is a good idea. I just need to find my luggage before I leave the airport. It is very dark here in the baggage claim area. I grabbed a Surefire E2L flashlight and two sets of spare batteries off a dead TSA agent. I would have liked his 9mm pistol but someone beat me to it. Thankfully no one with a gun has gotten the bright idea to steal my rolling carry on. I have tried to be circumspect when I drink water to prevent getting mobbed and robbed.

I have not spotted any zombies while I have been walking. I hope that I do not encounter a zombie until after I find my luggage. I am surprised that there have not been any zombies sighted here in the international area of the airport. I guess the National Guard did a pretty decent job until they left.

Cell phones have become impossible to use. Nearly all the phone lines are clogged with traffic, and most of the batteries are dead with no way to charge now that power is out. Last time I talked with Dovid, two days ago he was at Stepmother and Father’s place outside Jerusalem.

My older brother told me that things are very bad in Israel. There are hordes containing millions of zombies shambling through the Sinai Peninsula. Egypt has been overrun. Asia is supposedly worse. Some of my friends that I served with in the Maglan during the Second Lebanon War called Dovid looking for me. They told him that there has been talk of Israel using nuclear weapons to stem the zombie infestation. I guess Stepmother will not get to chase me with a ketubah again.

Dovid told me several other countries have already used nuclear weapons including China (which I knew), Turkey, Russia, North and South Korea, Taiwan and Iran. North Korea, Taiwan, and Iran disclosing their possession of Russian-made nuclear weapons was disturbing and would be hot news if I still had a job in the intelligence field.

I was in a briefing at work, hence my lack of preparedness. We were discussing China’s use of nuclear weapons in the Yarkant River area. Why the Chinese Air Force was saturation bombing the area is still a mystery. After the briefing I had to grab my things and run for BWI. I left my beautiful little white Lotus Elise in the BWI parking lot – I will miss that sweet little sports car!

It would have really raised some eyebrows back at the office if they knew Iran revealed several viable nuclear weapons by using them attempting to cauterize the zombie infestation. Apparently Turkey revealed it’s possession of nuclear weapons by launching some old nuclear eight-inch (203 mm) ex-US Army shells from a M110 self propelled howitzer. Talk about an ancient dinosaur!

All able people were being called to defend the Holy City no matter your faith. After a lifetime of neither not enough Jew nor not enough Arab to please either side. For the first time my older brother and I are wanted by both faiths. This is the problem of being the children of a Jordanian father and Israeli mother. I have not heard from my younger half sister “little miss perfect Arab” in more than a year. Dovid bless his soul tried to keep the peace between us.

When all the nations recalled their armed forces I was attempting to return to Jerusalem. I still do not consider Jerusalem home. Then again D.C., never really felt like home either despite living there the last three years but it was better than the city of my birth.

It appears the Americans were the most successful recalling their troops. Most of the American troops managed to get home at least according to the news. I wonder how much of that is propaganda? The Americans have the most troops stationed abroad, and I would bet not all of them made it home.

I dig around in my purse for a cigarette for a few moments before I remember that I ran out yesterday. At least the thrice-damned TSA did not confiscate my Zippo! I wonder if the TSA actually locked everything when they left? I might have a hard time getting into the baggage sorting area.

My flight here from BWI was one of the last to land. I guess in a way I am lucky that I did not get shot down or stuck in D.C.. From the news, I gather that D.C. is in a complete state of chaos. Supposedly, the American President made it out of D.C. to safety in the not-so-secret bunker at Mount Weather.

The President was broadcasting the typical government platitudes about staying home and waiting for the government to save you that everything is going to be OK. Yea right, the Americans need only look outside to see bullshit in the President’s words.

For a young, inexperienced man, the last American President is trying to put on a good face for the people but he has to know that everything is lost. Even the President’s broadcasts have ceased.

The last American V.P. is still stuck at Camp David according to the last news broadcast I caught. Now that is one ballsy old broad I could like! Camp David has been surrounded by hordes of zombies. The V.P. has been shown leading the troops in defense of the base. If nothing else it is good propaganda. Her long blonde hair flowing behind her and dressed in combat fatigues the V.P. cuts a very dashing figure.

I finally make it to the baggage sorting area – fuck! This place is huge, how am I going to find where my luggage is? The lazy TSA turd that was supposed to be watching this area locked the doors and did not leave the keys – bastard!

So I am going to have to go behind the check in counter and crawl through the hole where luggage disappears. In there is a huge, dark mausoleum. There are supposedly more than 17 miles of conveyor belts back there – fuck!

I definitely need to lose these shoes! What was I thinking putting on five inch heels? Hey when you are five foot two a few more inches cannot hurt. That and my legs are my best assets, supposed to accentuate your good points. If I had more time to pack, I would have worn my flats and put my heels in my rolling carry on. Like you expect some plague of the living dead!

At least I have my rather large rolling carry on. I have two full sets of clothes in my carry on. I have both working clothes and more conservative clothes including my large black silk hijab. I have a second, silk very dark blue hijab in my purse. I absolutely refuse to wear a abaya or a burqa. I do not want to look like what the American soldiers call a BMO, an acronym for “black moving object.”

Thankfully I am dressed in loose dark burgundy silk slacks and a nice dark, long cut button-up conservative business jacket with long sleeves and silver buttons. Underneath I have a long sleeve, white silk blouse with mother of pearl buttons. A thin red leather belt with a plain silver belt buckle holds my slacks to my hips. I have small plain platinum hoops in each ear. I’ve never been one for big chunky jewelry.

Boy but I need a shower badly! Nearly five days in the same clothes is just too much for me. I could have changed clothes from my carry on, but I was hoping for a shower, too late now. I would rather drink the water I have left than waste it on vanity.

I itch a little bit in a certain private area, but that could be more from lack of razor and bath than developing a yeast infection (I hope). Like many women of Arab descent, I prefer to wax everything from neck to ankles, but vanity is going to have to wait. My hair is in a bun held by several plastic clips, so thankfully it is out of the way but as God is my witness, first chance I get I am washing my hair!

My good platinum and fine AUS6A stainless steel hair pins are in my smaller Pelican case. Some TSA ass hole figured they make a good weapon, and he was correct. My hair pins are a gift from Aharon, my military Krav Maga instructor and first lover. He gave me the four hair pins when I got my black belt. My treasured hair pins are eight inches of fine Japanese stainless steel tipped with a platinum bob that holds a smooth round red garnet. Aharon said the garnet reminded him of me because I was beautiful but could also be abrasive. He was the first man to call me beautiful, few have since his passing.

Looking around to make sure there is no one watching me, I begin to unzip my rolling carry on. There does not appear to be anybody nearby but I do not want someone to see the four and half liters of Dasani water in my bag.

I take a seat and finish opening my rolling carry on. I bend over to screen myself behind it and take a few hurried sips of water while peeking over the top of the case, making sure no one is coming. I desire to chug the whole bottle, but I limit myself to a few sips.

These shoes just have to go! If I am going to be crawling around in the dark, I am not doing it in expensive, Italian five-inch heels! My comfortable Israeli desert tan Gortex combat boots are in my carry on. Some comfortable wooly socks and my boots make me feel a lot better.

Why I did not lose the stupid heels and put on my boots days ago? I stretch and flex my calf muscles, I did not realize how tight my butt and legs were. I decide to do some limbering stretches to get the kinks out of my legs.

Now where the fuck is my luggage? If I can at least just find my two Pelican cases! According to my luck my Pelican cases are probably in a locked area. If I can at least find my Pelican cases the rest of my luggage I can do without. All my essential items are in my carry on, and I can do without the rest of my clothes.