The engine coughed once. Then twice.

I gripped the yoke tighter, eyes flicking betwee

n the failing altimeter and the endless stretch

of dead land below.

"Come on, baby," I whispered. "

Not like this."

The sky cracked open with static.

"Mayday, Mayday," I said, thumbing the

radio. "A

nybody out there?"

Nothing.

Just the hum of dying machinery and the distant

howl of wind over rusted rooftops.

I recognized the town below.

New Canton. Population zero, last I heard.

Used to be a stop on the WWII air transport rout

e. Now it was a graveyard with power lines.

The plane lurched.

I braced for impact.

Trees blurred. Metal screamed.

Then silence.

And something else.

A low, wet groan rose from the trees.

Not the plane.

Something else. Something alive.

I popped the canopy and dropped down, boots crun

ching on shattered glass.

The groan came again, closer this time.

I pulled my sidearm.

"You're not in Kansas anymore, Maggie,

" I mutter

ed.

A shadow moved behind a collapsed gas station.

"Who's there?" I called.

No answer.

Just that same wet sound, like someone dragging

a sack of meat through mud.

I stepped forward.

Then the thing stumbled into the light.

Skin gray and peeling. Eyes cloudy. Jaw unhinged

.

Zombie.

I fired once.

Headshot.

It dropped.

Another groan came from behind me.

Then another.

They were coming from all directions.

I ran for the wreckage, heart hammering.

The radio. I needed the radio.

"Anybody out there!" I shouted into the mic.

Static.

Then a voice.

Cracked. Familiar.

"Captain Callahan?"

I froze.

That voice was from another life.

"Captain Callahan," it said again.

"This is Colo

nel Voss. Report."

I hadn’t heard that voice since the war ended. S

ince I walked away from the program.

"I'm down in New Canton," I said,

breath ragged.

"Zombies. Whole town of them."

Silence.

Then a laugh.

Cold. Sharp.

"You always were a wild card, Maggie. But

you're

not the first to crash there."

"What do you mean?"

"Your plane wasn't the first. And it

won't be th

e last."

"Are you saying this is happening on

purpose?"

"Think back," Voss said. "

Remember the test flig

hts. Remember the fuel formula we were working o

n."

I did.

Project Skyfire. A secret fuel blend meant to ke

ep planes aloft indefinitely.

But the test pilots—some came back changed.

"Not the fuel," I said. "Tell me

it wasn’t—"

"It was unstable," Voss cut in. "

We didn’t know

until it was too late."

"So you buried it?"

"We tried."

"And now it's spreading."

"Yes."

I looked around the wreckage.

The zombies were getting closer.

"Can you get me out of here?"

"No," Voss said. "But I can tell

you how to stop

it."

I waited.

"The core," he said. "In the old

hangar. You hav

e to destroy it."

"Destroy it how?"

"Same way we made it. Fire. Big one."

I holstered my gun.

"Tell me where."

"Coordinates are coming through now."

I glanced at the handheld tracker.

It blinked red.

Right where the old base used to be.

"Roger that," I said. "Callahan

out."

I slung my pack over my shoulder.

The town groaned again, louder this time.

I started walking.

The hangar wasn't far.

But it might as well have been a mile.

Every shadow moved now.

Every window had a face.

I shot one that lunged.

Another I punched in the throat.

They were slow. But there were so many.

I reached the fence line.

Rusted. Broken.

I slipped through, heart thumping.

Inside the hangar, the air was stale.

And there it was.

The core.

A metal cylinder, glowing faintly.

Like a heartbeat.

I dropped a charge on it.

Set the timer.

Ran like hell.

Behind me, the explosion lit up the sky.

Flames licked the clouds.

The groaning stopped.

I stood in the wreckage, smoke curling around me

.

"Did it," I said into the radio.

Silence.

Then a voice.

Not Voss.

Younger. Male.

"Captain Callahan," he said. "

This is Lieutenant

Hayes. Welcome back."

I frowned.

"How do you know who I am?"

"Your file never closed," he said.

"We've been w

aiting for someone to make it back."

"For what?"

"To confirm the truth."

I looked at the burning town behind me.

"This wasn’t just an accident," I said.

"No," Hayes said. "It was a test.

And you passed

."

I didn’t say anything.

There was nothing to say.

"Just hold tight," he said. "

We're sending a bir

d."

I waited.

And for the first time in years, I felt somethin

g I hadn’t expected.

Hope.

And a little nostalgia.

For skies I thought I’d never fly again.