Flypaper by Chris Angus

Author:Chris Angus
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Skyhorse Publishing
Published: 2013-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

THE HELICOPTER VEERED sharply as it plunged toward Earth in a nauseating spiral, then struck hard, tilting sideways until the propellers struck the ground. The props splintered, virtually exploding, sending shards of steel flying in all directions. Then, everything was still.

Littlefield lifted his head from his lap where he’d cowered, hands over his head. He saw two of the general’s aides slumped in their seats, sharp splinters of shredded propeller steel sticking out of their chests. They were obviously dead. The pilot, too, appeared to have died, probably from the impact. His neck looked broken.

Slowly, he tried to move. Everything seemed to work. He had survived. Once again, he realized with a profound certainty, God was protecting him for some larger purpose.

Next to him, he felt movement and looked to see that ­General Zhou also appeared to have come through the terrible crash. He had a gash on his forehead, and was holding a bloody cloth against it, but otherwise seemed okay.

“What happened?” asked Littlefield.

“I don’t know,” the general replied. He eased out of his seat and peered out the pilot’s window. He swore suddenly, “Come on! We’re getting out of here.”

“What’s wrong?”

The commander pushed on the cockpit door. Slowly, creaking with twisted metal, it gave way. He pushed Littlefield out the opening onto the ground and leaped after him. “They’re coming,” he cried. “Run! That way.”

Littlefield stared. The helicopter had landed a hundred yards from the road. A road filled with diseased and staggering Chinese of every sort. Some had turned toward them, picking up sticks or rocks as weapons. As mindless as they appeared, there was obviously menace in their actions. He’d never seen anything so frightening. Any thoughts that he was somehow protected by an aura of God’s grace evaporated. He turned and ran.

Zeli matched him step for step. They bolted for a cluster of rocks where the flat terrain turned into low hills backed by ever-steeper mountains. Once they made the protective screen of boulders, they paused and looked back. As soon as they were out of sight, their attackers lost interest in them, as though they couldn’t keep any sense of purpose once the focus of their madness had disappeared. The improvised weapons fell to the ground and they slowly returned to the road.

“I think we’re safe,” said the general.

But Littlefield continued to stare at the incredible panorama of humanity stretched out in front of them. “They’re automatons. I don’t understand how anyone in that crowd could have had the wherewithal to shoot down our aircraft.”

“They didn’t. It was probably engine failure. Still, it’s strange that . . .” General Zhou stopped in mid-sentence. “Look,” he said.

On the hill behind them were several buildings, probably some sort of farmhouse with stone walls on all sides. They could see figures standing behind the walls, the occasional rifle barrel protruding.

“What is it?”

“Someone’s homestead, I’d guess. Pretty well-to-do from the looks of it. They appear to have barricaded themselves for protection.”

Littlefield looked back at the road filled with monstrosities.

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