Chapter 12: San Antonio Rush

The trio walked to the nearest town which was Pleasanton, Texas. The journey took just a bit over a day, with regular breaks in between. With the threat of an incoming storm, Roger instructed that they keep a sharp eye out for supplies. Leave no door unopened, no drawer closed, and no shelf full. Hone in on the essentials: non perishable food, medicine, med kits, basic crafting supplies, and clothes, if possible.

Pleasanton was fairly small so the three of them agreed to split up to cover more ground and meet up at the outskirts once everything was swept out. It was rare for a seemingly quiet town to be what it was, quiet. Usually in every seemingly abandoned town or city, there was bound for a surprise waiting to pop out. These surprises usually ranged from infected to hunters to military men and sometimes a combination of all three.

But there was nothing. Not a sign of anything anywhere. The vast amount of ammunition left behind should have been a strong indicator of potential things to come or what once was.

But there was nothing. There wasn't so much as a single spore in the air.

Nothing but dead silence.

Not a single corpse anywhere.

October 10th, 2034

An additional fourteen hour walk finally brought the trio to San Antonio, Texas. The abandoned military quarantine zone. They easily made their way around the gates and entered the abandoned city. Unlike Pleasanton, San Antonio was significantly larger. Splitting up to cover more ground was logical, it would not be wise. Who knew who or what could be lurking about? They got lucky in Pleasanton but luck is always bound to run out.

They spent the day walking up and down the streets of San Antonio scavenging for supplies as well as for a suitable place for shelter. But they were quickly running out of time. Due to the sudden shift in the air (one that he just could not explain), Roger was unfortunately able to confirm that the snow storm is coming earlier than initially predicted; as early as the end of this week. They were working furiously against time and Mother Nature; two very formidable foes, even more so than the infected and the hunters combined.

Speaking of, along the way they encountered a quite a handful of infected, mainly runners.

But this was still a problem of high concern.

Being at the stage of runners meant that they were most likely turned fairly recently. By something else.

There were heavy amounts of spores in certain parts of the city due to the rotting bodies of the infected continuing on in the next life. Roger and Zeke wore their gas masks to shield them from the spores but Cole was able to breathe them in just fine.

The most important thing was that they needed to choose their shelter carefully or they may not live to see end of this powerful snow storm. After checking out various households and buildings, ranging from business buildings to schools, they stumbled upon the San Antonio International Airport. Seemed quiet enough, no spores polluting the air.

Roger and Zeke opted to explore the inside of the airport while Cole remained outside and explored the planes. Most of them were shut tightly, but there was one with the door slightly ajar. With a jump, Cole was able to grab onto the edge of the doorway and climbed his way inside. Once inside, Cole turned on his flashlight and was mortified by the sight. Not only were there dead infected, which explained the small amount of spores in the plane, there were dead people who were not infected, all of them decorated with bullets. He was about to question how, but he upon closer inspection, he found that the military were among the dead as well.

"Figures" Cole muttered.

He shined his flashlight to the left and right to make sure there wasn't anything "resting" nearby. He found nothing and walked in to explore the plane. Leave no place unchecked after all. He made his way to the cockpit first. It took a bit a force to open the door, but it eventually budged open.

What was inside the cockpit was the very definition of grotesque.

One of the pilots, his head had been blown clean off, only leaving behind everything from the neck down slumped over the chair. The other, possibly the co-pilot, had a bullet lodged in his neck. Judging by the state of shock still present on his face, it was a rather quick and sudden death.

"Fucking hell…"

Cole surveyed the area and found a bottle of pills by the controls. He picked them up and examined them, looking first for the expiration date. By chance, he didn't find one but it could be encrypted somewhere on it. He stashed it away in his bag and found another bottle on the floor. He picked it up and examined it.

Lid free and empty.

He looked back over at the headless pilot.

Cole had a feeling this pilot tried to end it himself, but wasn't sure what or even who took his head off. Whatever it was, it got to him before the pills did. Cole remorsefully shook his head and put the let the bottle fall. He left the cockpit to explore the rest of the plane. He kept a watchful eye on the bodies, slightly wary that one of them could possibly come to life.

What Roger said to him earlier echoed in his mind.

"If you can, try to salvage clothing."

Well now's as good a time as any.

Cole looked closely at the bodies to find anything that would be close to decent.

He grabbed a few scarves and shoes, but not much more. He looked up at the overhead storage and realized that of he could pry the doors open, the three of them could be set in the clothing department. He reached for the overhead storage and pried them open. Most of them had been rusted shut and required the sacrifice of a few shivs. But it was worth it. As Cole went through each of them, his smile grew wider and wider. He pulled out a seemingly endless amount of bags and suitcases and gently tossed them out of the plane, to salvage at a later time. He made a note to try to find a way to get to the luggage that had to be tucked away on the bottom of the plane. Maybe they can get into the other planes too.

Once he was sure the overheads were clear Cole continued to search the rest of the plane until he reached the very back. He opened the door of the bathroom and encountered yet another gruesome sight. A well dressed man, rotting away, most of his skeletal system present. The stench of death in the bathroom was much more potent compared to the rest of the plane.

He stepped inside and on the sink, he found some cloths, rubbing alcohol, and another bottle of pills. This was fairly full, but it was far beyond its expiration date.

September 2014

Nonetheless, Cole tucked it away into his bag. Perhaps Roger could find his way around this.

"There's no such thing as expired medicine."

Cole knelt down in front of the man to try to find a cause of death. Though, he did not find any bullet wound or a possible bite mark. There was a bit of blood, but nothing extreme. Underneath the withering corpse's hand was a sheet of paper. A note.

Cole cracked his neck and grabbed the corpse's hand and picked it up to retrieve the note. He did this cautiously, still wary of the ever so slight possibility of the corpse coming to life. Once he freed the note, he stood up, adjusted his flashlight and read it.

I don't know who might even find this. Hell, it'd be a miracle if someone did.

But whoever does, I'm guessing you might want an explanation of what the hell happened here. I would imagine it would come to be quite the sight.

We tried to escape. The infection spread rampant in Texas and the rest of the country. This was a flight scheduled to go to San Francisco but the infection was even worse there. We opted to go anywhere, anywhere that wasn't here. I heard a few dropped suggestions of Great Britain or even Italy. Somewhere European. It wasn't clear, but what was clear was that we were to stay in the air for a long time before a clear decision was made and clearance was given.

I'm using the word clear too much, I apologize. Not enough time to proof-read and better articulate my words. My English professor is either amused or rolling in her grave. God bless her…

While we were piling onto the plane, a hoard of infected managed to slip through. They got onto to the plane and all hell broke loose.

I got out of my seat and barricaded myself in the bathroom. Where else was I supposed to go? The window could not fit my girth and the door…well now that I think about it; perhaps I should have tried the door. At least one of us should have.

I can hear the groaning, the moaning, the screams, the crying. Dozens of lives being brought to a painful end. And I sit here on this pristine first class toilet, writing this note. Not sure why. One of those social norms? Isn't that what people do? Leave a note?

Somewhere along the line, I heard the military come through. There were several gun shots that rung out.

But not one of them thought to check the bathroom.

I didn't know if I should have felt relieved or terrified. But no matter what, I would have found some means of escape, one gruesome way or another.

Then it was quiet. It was a sort of…insanity quiet. I don't know how long I sat in here. Could have been hours, maybe even days. I eventually decided to press my luck and open the door. It was dark and quiet. Only things I could hear were the chaos rumbling in the distance, in the far, far distance.

My first breath had set the timer for my last. The air of malady filled my lungs and began burning and eating away at them. My eyes watered either from pain or sudden realization that now my life was on a timer and rapidly ticking down. I felt my sanity beginning to slip as I clawed at the air, desperately trying to find the proper molecule that solely exists to give life.

But that molecule had been…dismantled, changed? I don't know the proper terminology; chemistry was never my strong suit.

So I return to the bathroom to write this note and wallow in my final moments to wonder; how have we gotten here so fast? It seemed like only yesterday that everything was…normal. What caused this? Will there ever be…change? A reversion, a reboot?

I fear that I may never know. At least in this life time.

But to whoever manages to find this, please find out for me, if you can.

And if you do, I'm dying (sorry for the ill timed pun) to know.

But there's no rush.

When and if you get here…wherever I'm going…

Ask for James.

I'll be the chap sitting on a pristine toilet downing tea, writing the novel I always wanted to write.

I'll leave my photo attached. It's a bit outdated

The last sentence appeared to have been cut off. Cole assumed he must have succumbed to the infection at that point.

"Back in New Marais, I always thought the worst thing that could happen to people was the militia, those swamp freaks, the Beast. Even the plague. But now…now that all seems like child play compared to this. I always wondered when people would ever catch a break." Cole sighed. "But now I see…the only way you can ever catch a break is trying to find a place like Jackson County…or dying." Cole sighed heavily and left the bathroom. Since there was nothing left to do or look for, he stepped out of the plane with a heavy heart.

He spotted Zeke and Roger headed towards him, hopefully with good news.

They could use some at this point.

"Okay, some good news." Roger started. "The inside is pretty habitable. No signs of infected on the side we were on. We didn't really scope out the rest of the airport yet, but it's looking pretty good so far.

"Damn brother, looks like you hit the jackpot there." Zeke gestured at the piles of bags and suitcases.

"Yeah, this plane behind me was about to leave before…well shit hit the fan. I was thinking we could try get into the bottom of the plane, and maybe the others, and find more supplies."

Roger looked at the plane Cole was pointing at and gasped; immediately paling as if he saw a ghost.

"Well if we're sticking to this place, I'm down with that." Zeke responded.

"Oh my god." Roger whispered. "Flight 726, October 1st, 2013."

"You alright there, Roger?" Cole caught the haunted look in Roger's eyes.

Why would he…?

Oh.

Ex-military…

Cole immediately looked at Zeke. He seemed oblivious to the ordeal for now.

"So, uh," Cole tried to stifle the rising awkwardness. "Why don't we grab these bags and get them inside since we're sticking around?"

"Good idea, very good idea. Let's do that…" Roger broke out of his trance and went over to the pile of bags. He picked up more than he could comfortably manage but he was too distraught to care.

"All those people…" He fought to hold back tears.

"What was that about?" Zeke asked.

"Ah, don't worry about it. That was probably some sort of trigger or something." Cole responded.

Zeke remained skeptical, but decided to drop the subject for now.

They both went over to the bags and picked up what they could carry and made their way into the airport.

Roger distanced himself from the group as he rummaged through the bags and suitcases. Once he was sure Zeke wasn't paying much attention, Cole grabbed the suitcase he was sifting through and moved closer to Roger.

"Quite a sight in that plane. Saw quite a bit of…military guys in there." Cole began. "Any chance you were involved in that?"

"Straight to the point I see." Roger muttered, then sighing. "I was given direct orders, Cole. I didn't have any more strikes with them because at that point, there was no such thing as an honorable or even dishonorable discharge. Well, you could call it that, if you consider getting your head blown off to be."

"I feel like there's a "but" here."

"There is." Roger responded. "After shooting the co-pilot in the neck, I couldn't do it. I bolted right out of that plane, went AWOL. They caught me after a day, but because I was valuable as a doctor, I wasn't punished. I only killed one man in that whole ordeal but the guilt was immense. I felt responsible for the rest. Countless others were slaughtered, by the deemed "heroes of this country." What a load."

"I feel like I've heard that before…" Cole pondered. But where? It wasn't just a passing feeling.

"Found this note. Turns out you guys missed a guy hiding out in the bathroom." Cole reached into his pocket and pulled out the note, handing it to Roger. "As you could probably guess, he didn't manage to make it out of there with his life."

Roger read over the note, his jaw opening and closing several times, especially towards the end. He had never seen anyone die in such…good humor? Could it be called that?

"Fuck." Roger muttered and handed the note back to Cole. Cole stashed it away in his bag for future reference.

"Yo Roger!" Zeke called out, slightly suspicious as to why he and Cole had suddenly become so hush-hush. "We got some snowflakes."

Roger's head snapped up and looked towards the windows. There were indeed snowflakes falling, but very lightly.

"No need to worry yet, this is just a preview of what is to come. But this preview has come a bit too soon, we may be running out of time."

"What else do we need?" Cole asked.

"The item I feared the most we'd have trouble with was clothing, but we are doing fine in that department. I would like to have a bit more raw material for supplies, but like I said, we haven't completely scavenged the entirety of this airport so that problem may fix itself soon enough. However, I would prefer that we have a bit more food."

"I didn't find any on the plane." Cole said. "I managed to find two bottles of pills though."

"Zeke and I found a hoard of medicine and quite a bit of first aid kits. We managed to some find non-perishable food and bottled water, but it's not much to go on."

"What'd you manage?"

"Some canned meats, canned pasta, and some cereal and granola bars. I still can't tell how long we could be holed up in here."

"I found some peanut butter tucked away in one of the carry-ons." Zeke added.

"The carry-ons, yes of course. They could have food tucked away in them as well." Roger's voice was noticeably shaking.

"You alright there, Roger?" Zeke asked.

"I'm fine." Roger responded, but a bit too quickly. "Stay calm, don't pull the trigger yet."

Awkwardness had quickly found its niche in the airport.

Cole and Zeke opted to check out the rest of the airport while Roger stepped outside to give them a proper report of what will happen with this snow storm. While that was one of the reasons he wanted to step outside, he wanted to take a look inside the plane, to survey the carnage that he played just a big a role as everyone else. He jumped and pulled himself into the plane. He quickly put on his gas mask; there wasn't too many spores floating in the air but prolonged exposure could produce a negative reaction.

Just as he suspected, there were bodies everywhere, all of them rotting away. All of them were innocents, just trying to find a means of escape. But there was never any escape. No. Before Jackson County showed up, the only escape was death. The only thing that kept him together was the fact that these people managed to leave before things really got bad.

It was out of place, but Roger couldn't help but utter a, "You're welcome." before leaving the plane.

The light snow was falling steadily with a bit of wind accompanying it. It wouldn't be a significant snow fall, probably dropping a grand total of two inches with most of it melting away tomorrow. It was a definite preview of what was imminently to come. The snow storms in 2012 and 2022 started exactly like this; slow and graceful before turning into a merciless whirlwind of snow, wind, and ice.

Roger had a bad feeling that this storm would out do them both.