Voyage of the Dead
Book 1 of the Sovereign Spirit Saga
"There are all kinds of emergencies out there that we can prepare for. Take a zombie apocalypse for example. That's right; I said z-o-m-b-i-e a-p-o-c-a-l-y-p-s-e. You may laugh now, but when it happens you'll be happy you read this…” Center for Disease Control official website, "Preparedness 101: Zombie Apocalypse." May 16, 2011.
Los Angeles International Airport: 12:05 AM, April 1, 2012
Carl and Pricilla Stiller were running late for their red eye flight to Puerto Rico. The plane was scheduled to depart in less than thirty minutes and they were still standing in line for security screening. ‘Fucking terrorists,’ Carl thought as his wife blamed him for watching the end of his favorite TV show before driving to the airport. His apologies were empty and automatic as he willed the line to move faster. If they missed this flight, they would also miss their Caribbean cruise that departed from San Juan in less than fourteen hours. Carl was about to try bribing a TSA agent to cut the line when he noticed a commotion beyond the security check-point.
One of the TSA officers seemed to have collapsed and other officers were rushing to assist him. Then another officer stumbled and fell to the floor. Confusion spread as another and then another officer went down. They all seemed to be going into spasms. People in the front of the line began to panic. Carl was no genius, but his first thought was that this was a terrorist attack with some kind of poison gas. He grabbed his wife’s hand and pulled her back towards the ticket counters.
“What are you doing, Carl?” yelled Pricilla. “We have to get on that plane!”
“Be quiet for a second and look at what’s happening!” said Carl harshly. “Something’s wrong! It might be terrorism. We have to get out of here, now!” Somehow he just knew they had to get out of the terminal. But as he pushed through the crowd, pulling his wife with him, he realized that the trouble had spread to the ticketing area of the departure terminal too. Screams were coming from the ticketing counters. Some people were running towards the doors. Others were running in from outside. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t localized at the security check-point. “Come on, Prissy!” Carl yelled as he dragged her to a stairway that led down to the baggage claim area.
The situation on the ground floor wasn’t any better. If anything, it was worse. There was blood on the floor and more people were screaming. Carl ignored groups of people struggling in the baggage claim area and pulled Pricilla towards the exit doors. She was still yelling about missing their flight, but her protests faltered as she recognized the panic that was spreading through the airport. Carl was focused on the exit doors when his wife’s hand was jerked from his grasp. He spun around and was shocked to see an airline employee tackling Pricilla and pouncing atop her. Pricilla was screaming.
Carl was an athletic man who had played soccer and been a football field goal kicker in college. His instincts kicked in at the same moment that he kicked his wife’s attacker in the side of the head. The man went flying to reveal Pricilla lying dazed on her back with blood streaming from a wound on her neck. Carl reached down and scooped her up in his arms as he turned and ran for the exit. He reverted to his football training and charged through the confused people crowding around the doors. Several of them were thrown to the ground by his passage. Then he and Pricilla were outside by the taxi stands.