James Hunt: Broken Roads

Sean was squirming, trying to get free. Mike had to climb over Nelson to reach Sean whose tears were streaming down his face.

“Dad! Dad!” Sean cried.

“Hold on, Sean.”

Once Sean was unbound Mike pressed his fingers against Nelson’s neck to check for a pulse. Mike leaned in and listened to see if Nelson was breathing. Nelson was breathing and Mike could feel the faint beat of a pulse.

“Stay here, Sean,” Mike said.

Mike tore out of the emergency exit and glanced around in the darkness, but the attackers had vanished. Lightning streaked across the sky followed by a deep, rolling thunder.

When Mike entered the plan Sean was resting his head on Nelson’s shoulder, hugging his dad.

“Sean,” Mike said.

Sean ignored him. Mike reached his hand, placing it on Sean’s arm, but Sean jerked it away violently.

“Leave me alone!” Sean said.

It wasn’t any use trying to argue. The kid was scared, tired, and the one person who could help him was lying unconscious right in front of his eyes. Mike walked back over to the entrance of the plane to keep watch. He pulled the gun from the back of his waist and clicked the safety off. In between the cracks of thunder he could hear Sean’s faint whimpers.

“Dad?” Sean asked.

Mike’s attention switched from the water dripping from the plane’s emergency exit frame back to Sean and Nelson.

“What happened?” Nelson asked.

“How are you feeling?” Mike asked.

Nelson touched his finger to touch the outline of the lump on the left side of his head and winced when he made contact.

“It was a rough night,” Mike said.

Nelson, still disoriented, turned to his son.

“You all right, buddy?” Nelson asked.

Sean wrapped his arms around his father, burying his face into his shirt. Nelson cradled the back of his son’s head as he rested against him. His eyes looked up into Mike’s.

“Did they take everything?” Nelson asked.

“All of our packs are gone,” Mike answered.

“Well, I’m glad you two are okay. What are we going to do now?”

Mike had thought about that all night. He thought about how they were going to finish the trip to the cabin that was at least another three full days of walking without any food or water. He knew the further they traveled into Ohio where the cabin was located the fewer towns there’d be to try and gather supplies. Right now the only place that was close enough to do them any good was the one place Mike wanted to avoid.

Nelson noticed Mike glancing back toward Pittsburgh International and picked up on what he was thinking.

“I hope you printed our boarding passes before we left,” Nelson said.

The muggers form last night confirmed what Mike already knew would happen: that people were getting desperate and traveling around, looking for easy scores. It wouldn’t be long before people started organizing into gangs to survive.

That’s what Mike feared awaited them in the airport. It had been a week since everything stopped working. No power, no water, no food, no modern conveniences, nothing. He’d already watched his neighbors turn on each other, and that was in the first week. He didn’t want to imagine what would happen a month from now.

Mike tried to convince Nelson to stay in the plane with Sean, but he insisted on coming to help. Mike finally caved. If he did find a stash of supplies he’d need all the help he could get carrying it.

Clothes, trash, and abandoned airport equipment littered the tarmac. The massive jetliners stood motionless. Some were lined up at the terminals, while others stood frozen on the runways, never leaving the ground.

Mike thought about how everyone on board started to complain the moment everything shut off. He could hear the mumbles and groans on the plane, people cursing under their breath that they’d been inconvenienced by what happened, but if they’d taken off thirty minutes earlier they all would have crashed, and most likely would have died.

Mike kept his eyes alert. He scanned the tarmac for anything unusual, or out of place. He couldn’t afford anyone getting the drop on them now. As much as Nelson said he was okay Mike knew that he wasn’t going to be of much use if things went south.

“How do we get in there?” Nelson asked.

“We’ll have to go up to the main entrance. I’m not sure how to get in from the tarmac,” Mike said.

The three of them walked around the outside of the terminal and followed the monorail to the airport drop off and pick up area. A few of the monorails were stuck on the rack in between destinations.

“Dad, what’s that on the windows?” Sean asked.

When Mike looked up at one of the monorail windows, he could see dried bloodstains smeared across the glass.

“Dirt,” Mike said.

Nothing moved. Mike still hadn’t become used to that. All the times he’d complained about people moving to fast, and now he’d give anything to see a car speed around the corner of the building up ahead.

Then Mike saw him. It was only for a second, but he saw the flash of brown hair duck back into the airport. He pulled Nelson and Sean down behind a luggage carrier.

“What’s wrong?” Nelson asked.

“They’re people inside,” Mike said.

“Do you think they’re dangerous?”

“I don’t know, but if they’re keeping watch, then they must be protecting something.”

Mike pulled the pistol from his waist and clicked the safety off. He peeked above the luggage carrier to the door the man had gone inside.

“We should move to the corner by the front of the building. Sean, you stay close to your dad, okay? If anything happens you two run, got it?”

Both of them nodded their heads.

“Stay behind me,” Mike said.

Mike led the three of them in a single file line. He kept the gun clutched in both hands, his eyes scanning the area. He slammed his back up against the corner of the building. Nelson and Sean followed suit, catching their breath. Mike placed his index finger over his lips.

“C’mon,” Mike said.

Most of the automatic glass doors were shut. A few had been smashed and the rest had been opened manually.

The crunch of the glass behind Mike made him freeze in his tracks. Nelson mouthed “Sorry” and stepped around the remaining shards.

Mike found one of the opened doors and stepped through. The airport was musty. A week of no air conditioning and continually being baked in the sun caused everything to stink. Mike motioned for Nelson and Sean to move in close. His voice was barely above a whisper.

“Look for food. You’ll want to take non-perishable items. Anything in a can or a wrapper should be okay. Bottled water is another good thing to grab. Also, be on the lookout for backpacks we can use to store what we find, okay?”

“What about weapons?” Nelson asked.

“I don’t think we’ll find anything like that here, but if you do grab it.”

Mike squinted his eyes, trying to see deeper into the depths of the airport, but he could only see as far as the light from outside would reach through the windows. No windows, no light. The only things visible were security lines and metal detectors.

Tables and chairs from the food court were flipped on their sides and backs. Broken glass from display cases and vending machines scattered the floor. Sean reached down and picked up a candy bar and showed it to his father. Nelson gave him a thumbs up. Just as Sean pocketed it they heard a crash coming from the back of the Burger King kitchen.

“Stay here,” Mike said.

Mike climbed over the Burger King counter, landing quietly on the other side. He could feel his pulse beat faster. A dim light glowed under the crack of the door leading to the kitchen. He raised his weapon, his knuckles turning white against the black composite of his 9mm and burst through the swinging door.