Fiction – Ruth’s Tale Continued Part 4

I wearily sit down in one of the damn hard, plastic airport chairs. Leaning the gory, dripping fire axe handle against my left side; axe head on the floor, I take a cautious look around before unzipping my rolling carryon case. Ducking behind the rolling carryon in case someone is watching me, I reach inside and grab the half-empty plastic liter Dasani water bottle. I have not noticed anyone alive other than me, but I do not want to risk a disagreement.

Shielding myself with my back to the wall in-between the seats and my carryon, I sip water and watch blood soak into the carpet from the axe. I desperately want to chug the water. I am unsure what I desire more a hot shower or a cigarette? I pause for few minutes (I guess, I have no way of telling time, not that it matters anyway), waiting and listening to see if I can hear the shuffling of zombie feet.

After a while I do not hear anything. With my cell phone dead, I have no way of knowing what time it is or how much time has passed. Strange I realize now, how much I was in the habit of checking the time and everything else in my busy life on my phone. Electronics are pretty much useless now, I cannot eat my phone and it will not clothe me or keep me warm.

I guess it is late afternoon, maybe early evening. I polish off the half empty Dasani plastic liter water bottle. As quietly as I am able to, I crush the empty plastic Dasani water bottle and put the lid back on tight. If I come across a water source I might be able to refill the bottle. I place the crushed plastic bottle back into my rolling carryon beside the four still sealed, full Dasani plastic liter water bottles. I zip my carryon closed and lean it against the wall beside the door next to the seats.

I am bone weary tired, desperately hungry and I badly need a shower. If only I had not listened to the stupid National Guard! I should have bugged out of the air port as soon as I decided it was hopeless. Stupid Guard wanted everyone to remain in the airport; for what? I can still hear the Guard’s platitudes, “Everyone remain calm! Help is coming!”

I wanted my luggage, and no one knew (or cared) where my luggage was at the moment. Since I landed in the domestic area on Alaska, I was supposed to go to the newly expanded Southern Satellite international terminal to catch my China Air flight to Ben Gurion. I take a deep breath, sigh and let it out. No help for it now. I stretch and stand up.

Grabbing the axe with my right hand just below the axe head I approach the window in the locked door again. I had done some significant damage to the window before I was rudely interrupted by the zombies. A few more light whacks with the axe makes enough of a gap that I can slide my hand inside the room and unlock the door.

After unlocking the door, I pause again to listen for the halting, shuffling approach of zombies. There is a lot of trash piled around in this corner of the airport terminal. There would probably be more trash but since nearly all newspapers are now read digitally, only the gossip rags like the National Enquirer, Daily Globe, Soap Opera Digest, etc. are still printed on paper.

The rest of the trash is discarded clothes and luggage, soiled fast food wrappers; empty water and sports drink bottles; the usual refuse of modern life suddenly come to a halt. As I clear the debris with the fireman’s axe so I can open the door easily, I discover with disgust that someone relieved themselves on this wall.

It is starting to get dark, the sun is going down. I need to get my Pelican cases and find a place to safely stay the night. There are obviously zombies throughout the airport now. I am bone weary, and desperately need several hours of good uninterrupted sleep. I have not eaten in three days, and I am woozy with hunger.

Success!! I am in, but my delight at attaining my goal is short lived as I realize there is a corpse inside the room. Fuck! I want to scream! I hold the door open with my right hip. The springs in the door will cause the door to slam shut.

The small room is dark and reeks of death. To the left of the door, against the wall I find a small brown, plastic door wedge. I roll the plastic door wedge, with the toe of my boot closer until I can jam it underneath the door, preventing the door from closing. I keep glancing at the corpse.

It takes a few kicks with my boot to get the wedge jammed underneath the door to prevent it from closing. The springs in the door are very strong. I wedge the door open just enough that I can slide inside the room. I want to make sure I have a clear and easy escape path if I need it in a hurry.

The corpse in the room is a black male TSA agent. I change the setting on the Surefire flashlight from low to high. I shine the light from the Surefire E2L flashlight, all 60 lumens hitting him full in the face. There is no response from the corpse. He leans against the counter, sitting upright. I do not see any maggots; he must not have been dead very long. With no response from the corpse, I put the Surefire flashlight back on low power. I need to conserve battery power as much as possible.

It takes a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the dim little room with the low power setting on the flashlight. I could use the flashlight on high to search the room but I do not want to risk attracting zombies from the baggage area by shining a bright light around.

I wish I had a bigger, brighter flashlight but that will have to wait until I get into my Pelican cases. The three lumen low setting on this Surefire E2L flashlight has been handy for moving around in the dark without attracting too much attention. The new generation, high capacity lithium-ion CR123A batteries in this flashlight have an incredible run time. Once these batteries are dead though, that is it, no more are being made.

The corpse of the TSA agent looks like something bit into his shoulder and neck, ripping out great chunks of flesh. Smeared across the floor is a snail trail of blood and gore. Maybe he crawled in here and died. I keep my distance from the corpse just in case. Gripping the fireman’s axe with both hands and clasping the Surefire flashlight in my teeth, I tap his left boot with the axe blade and quickly jump back.