Warm Bodies: The Answer

Into the Storm

Hi everyone! :) This is the third in my Warm Bodies series, and won't make any sense if you don't read the other two first ;) This story actually gets darker than my previous story (Little Brown Bear), if you can believe, but there are some interesting and beautiful moments in here, including some time with Marcus (and his memories, including how he and R met) that are worth taking a peek at ;) Regardless, I hope you enjoy it and leave a comment when you can.  (Oh, and I totally forgot to say that the Warm Bodies universe is not mine, of course, it's Isaac Marion's... but, you knew that right? ;) Guessing that's why you're here?)

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"I don't know Jules," Rowan said, his voice carrying tinnily over the pilot's headset. "I really don't think it's a good idea."

Gazing over the instrument panel of the Cessna, he gave a little satisfied nod. Everything looked steady - they were cruising at just over eleven thousand feet, a little higher than normal due to the mountains in their path, they had plenty of fuel in the tank, and the controls were responsive and clean. Nowhere near as good as the jet of course, and he missed that, but the Colonel had confiscated it for deeper runs west where they needed the increased range and speed, leaving him with a choice between a newer Bonanza with minor rudder issues or an older Cessna 206, which his inner pilot had jumped at for some reason.

The west pulled at him though. He wanted to explore, to see just what was left of humanity out there, and he volunteered for those missions any time they came up. But the Colonel always declined, keeping him instead on the small supply hops to known contacts in friendly territories, like the one they were on now to the Davis Outpost up north.

Rowan didn't take it personally - he knew John's decision had more to do with Julie's insistence on joining him in the cockpit than the man's lack of faith in his borrowed flying ability. Many of the runs west, and further south, were first contact situations and always went with increased military guard. Dale and Ed, the Colonel's two military pilots, had returned from a few of these trips with stories of rushed evacuations under fire, and random pot shots taken at them in the air. It was some scary shit. Rowan had seen the bullet holes himself, and marveled at some of the close calls, and wondered how the hell they'd handled it.

The experience he was drawing on to fly came from a guy who'd done sedate charter runs just outside the city, and some basic instruction on the side - he'd never seen any action and sure as hell hadn't been fired at. A couple of close calls with a few of his students, sure, followed by stiff drinks in the airport bar, but that'd been it.

"What did you just say?" Julie's voice carried back through the headset, interrupting his thoughts.

Rowan glanced over at her. She was frowning at him from the co-pilots seat, a map folded in her lap, dressed in a light blue top and canvas jacket and jeans. The headset looked goofily large over her wild mass of blonde hair.

"I said I don't think it's a good idea," he answered, and his gaze returned to the heavy, angry clouds directly ahead, part of a wide storm front that was getting worse as he watched. They'd known they were going to get some weather today, they just hadn't figured on it coming this far south. Looked like things were going to get a little crazy.

Julie shook her head, "No, before that."

Rowan broke from his inspection of the clouds to peer back over at her. "Uh... I said 'I don't know'?"

Julie smirked. "You said 'Jules'."

"And?" Arching a questioning eyebrow at her, Rowan glanced down at the map she was holding in her lap, quickly tracing the route over again. How in the heck were they going to get around this front?