The copilot unstrapped himself and came aft, walking with the motion of the helicopter, one hand on the ceiling to brace himself. 'What have we got back here, just rations and some light munitions, right?' he called back to the pilot. 'Anything that might come loose?'
It was like a dream, a particularly horrible dream, where you know what is about to happen but you are so plagued by self-doubt and general anxiety that you don't dare open your mouth to say it, because that would make it real.
The copilot reached for the handle on the side of the hatch and even before he had turned it all the way the hatch exploded inward, spilling two hundred pounds of meat into the crew compartment. There was blood, and torn flesh, and screaming, but in that first awful second Clark couldn't connect the dots, couldn't make sense of what was happening. Only when he heard Vikram calling his name did he really know.
A man. A dead man. A dead man with no arms.
A dead man with no arms, his torso riddled with bullet holes, his face distorted by damage and hunger, his body as dry and tough as beef jerky, had stowed away aboard the helicopter when it left the prison. The dead man had killed the copilot in one incredibly swift, incredibly brutal motion and now he had his teeth deep in Vikram's calf. Some of the blood slicking down the floor belonged to his best friend.
The dead girl was up, standing on her chair. She looked horrified and Clark felt a quick irrational burst of desire'he wanted to tell her everything was alright,
A better plan came to mind a moment later. He was standing next to an exterior hatch with an emergency release. He pulled up on the red handle and the door fell away into blackness, cold air bellying in so fast and hard it knocked everyone down. The dead man slipped away from Vikram. The girl fell off her crewseat. Clark grabbed her arm and hauled her up to stand next to him.
The dead man didn't bother getting up. He just got his teeth into Vikram again and kept chewing. Vikram drew his weapon and started firing at the dead man's head but the helicopter was rolling, pitching, yawing'nobody could fire accurately under those conditions, and Vikram was no marksman.
The pilot kept looking over his shoulder, shouting something back at them. Questions. He wasn't paying enough attention to flying the aircraft. 'Soldier!' Clark yelled at him, 'see to your duties!' Then he turned to the girl.
'This psychic,' he said to her. 'He told you'you were the only one. The only one who could go to the Epicenter. He told you that, he was sure of that?'
The girl's eyes were very wide. He shook her and she nodded. It was what he needed to hear.
Grabbing her by the arms he yanked her forward and shoved her out of the helicopter, out through the external hatch, out into the roaring sky.
Monster Nation
Chapter Fourteen
Poor mood, no appetite, continued angiogenesis inside the deforming body. But she's alive. Fuck you, God, fuck you, Death, fuck you, fucking Cancer. She's still alive! [Lab Notes, 1/16/05]
Something was burning'Bannerman Clark felt the heat on his leg. He felt the hairs there crisp and curl and melt. There was only a little pain, in his chest. He looked down and wished he hadn't. A jagged piece of steel transfixed him to the side of the broken helicopter. He was like a butterfly mounted in a case. Best to not try to move, he decided. Best to just wait it out. The heat on his leg kept getting more intense and he could smell his flesh burning, but still, there was no pain.
There had been a moment after he pushed the girl out of the hatch, a single moment when it looked as if the pilot might actually get them down safely. That Vikram might actually kill the armless dead man. That they could continue the mission.
Something slithered nearby.