Z-Altitude: Book Three: Frozen Vector (Z-Altitude - Zombie Apocalypse Action Thriller 3) by D.C. Wolfe

Author:D.C. Wolfe [Wolfe, D.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Webb International Limited
Published: 2025-12-10T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Eastbound Shadows

The fog had thinned overnight, leaving the frost gleaming like glass along the runway edges. After days of grey and panic, the dawn felt almost unreal — quiet, cold, and full of promise.

Bri stood pouring coffee into paper cups. “Breakfast of champions,” he declared. “Stale croissants, mystery muffins, and something that might once have been coffee. Michelin-star stuff.”

Grace took a sip, winced, then smiled anyway. “I’ve had worse.”

“Not since Tuesday,” Bri quipped.

Across the apron, the Dreamliner stood ready — clean lines catching the weak sun. The fuel trucks had long since gone, their work finished in the early hours. The tanks were full enough, the diagnostics good. For once, nothing had gone wrong.

James stood beneath the wing, double-checking the refuelling caps. “Half tanks,” he said, glancing up at Weber. “That gives us range to the UK easily.”

Bri wandered over, balancing two cups in one hand and a torn pastry in the other. “Right then, Captain Morgan,” he said, handing James a cup. “Course set for Magdeburg, coffee in hand, and engines that actually work. Miracles do happen.”

James took the cup, smiling despite himself. “Let’s not jinx it, Bri.”

Krüger checked his watch and called over, “We should move before the next front rolls in.”

Weber turned toward the group, his voice carrying across the quiet tarmac. “I’ve released the prisoners. Everyone ready?”

Amina nodded weakly from her position by the mobile stairs. Grace helped her up, steady and gentle. “Ready as we’ll ever be.”

The Dreamliner’s door stood open, the dark interior lit by the faint glow of cabin lights.

Bri looked up at it, half a grin tugging at his face. “Never thought I’d be happy to be getting on a plane again.”

Jenna bumped him lightly as she passed. “Try not to kill anyone this time.”

He raised his coffee cup in mock salute. “No promises.”

James lingered at the bottom of the stairs, eyes sweeping across the field. The runway was clear, the trucks moved, the world momentarily still. For once, the horizon didn’t look like doom — just cold sky and open air.

“Right,” he said at last, the words steady, certain. “Let’s go home.”

•

The airfield was silent except for the rising growl of jet the engines spooling up.

Mist swirled low over the tarmac as the Dreamliner began to taxi, its twin Rolls-Royce turbines propelling the jet along effortlessly.

Inside, the cabin droned softly — a low, steady vibration running through the floor. Grace sat with Amina near the front, buckled in beneath the muted glow of the ambient lighting. Anna and Sabine occupied the middle, speaking quietly. Weber’s remaining men were strapped in behind them, weapons resting between their knees.

Bri leaned across the aisle to Grace, shaking his paper coffee cup. “When do you think the bar will open?” he said, grinning.

Grace smiled faintly. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah,” he said. “But we made it, time to kick back, celebrate.”

The aircraft turned at the end of the taxiway, nose swinging gracefully to face the long stretch of runway ahead. Outside, the world seemed to hold its breath.

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