Domain of the Dead by David Moody, Iain McKinnon, Travis Adkins Page B

that?” Bates asked.
    “Just loading the bird up,” Idris answered, a nervous smile on his face. “You know, prep for the rescue mission.”
    Bates folded his arms. “Patterson’s just told me the op’s been scratched due to the storm.”
    “Yeah, it was,” Idris said, trying to push past Bates. “I’m just getting organised to take off when the weather clears.”
    “You know it’s against regs to store ammo in the chopper if it’s being tied down for a storm.” Bates lent against the bulkhead, deliberately blocking Idris’ way. “Hey, wait a minute...”
    “Bates...” Idris looked around checking to see if Bates was the only one within earshot.
    “What?” Bates said, trying to keep his smile from detracting from his innocent tone.
    Idris placed a finger up to his lips.
    “Ahh,” Bates said as he mimed zipping his mouth shut.
    Idris took one last look around before continuing to load up the trolley. He asked, “How the hell does someone so dumb live so long?”
    Bates took the ammo box Idris was struggling with and stacked it on top of the rest. He replied, “I stay alive by avoiding doing stupid things like flying out to the mainland in a storm!”
    “Storm’s four hours away,” Idris said. He lent in closer to Bates. “That gives me time to find Cahz and the rest before it hits.”
    “But that chopper won’t fly in a storm,” Bates pointed out. “Even if it does, you can’t land it back on the ship with thirty foot waves.”
    Idris shook his head, “I ain’t coming straight back.”
    “The ammo!” Bates twigged. “You’re planning on landing and sitting out the storm!”
    Idris nodded. “It might never make landfall, and even if it does, with just me and the ammo on the way out we’ve got enough fuel to fly inland if we have to.”
    “So you weren’t planning on inviting me along?” Bates said, pushing the trolley out of the armoury. The cart was heavy with munitions and it took a heave to get it rolling.
    “No way, man,” Idris said, laughing. “How else you gonna stay alive?”
    Bates took a glance over his shoulder at Idris as he followed behind. “Look, you sure you want to do this? I mean, you’ve not been in country more than thirty minutes since the world died and even then you’ve never left the chopper.” The trolley veered to the right and Bates had to push hard to compensate for his oversteering. “Hell, you even piss in a bottle rather than setting down.”
    “I’m not leaving my friends out there,” Idris said. His voice held a weight of conviction Bates seldom heard.
    “This isn’t just a rescue op for you, is it?” Bates said.
    “I learnt to piss in a bottle when we were evacuating Richmond.” Idris squinted in the bright sunshine as the pair of them emerged onto the deck. “I logged a hundred and sixteen hours flight time that week; only slept when they were refuelling the bird. I was one of the last choppers out, and yes I saw the compound being overrun.”
    Bates grunted as he shoved the trolley up the shallow incline to the landing pad. “Where do you want these?” he asked as he wheeled the crates level with the chopper.
    “Best put them in the back seats in case things are hot when I arrive,” Idris replied.
    They started loading the ammunition.
    “Richmond was a cluster fuck,” Bates said as he loaded the first crate.
    “Navy air had it down tight,” Idris replied. “We ran like clockwork. We even got the abort over the radio a couple of miles out. Ops centre had an eye in the sky. Whole thing was on fifty-eight inch plasma screens on the command deck of the Defender.”
    Idris paused for a moment. Bates wasn’t sure if it was the memory or the weight of the crate that caused him to stop.
    “I kept going anyway,” Idris continued. “I guessed there must be somewhere to land, a clear rooftop or something, but there wasn’t. They were everywhere. You could hear the screams over the sound of the rotors. There were people reaching