Dead and Dead Again: Kansas City Quarantine Read Free Page B

assumed, correctly, that this was the plane making a
semi-controlled landing and most likely bouncing off of a few buildings. Rounding
the corner a few minutes later put the couple about five full blocks up the
hill from the crash site. Ahead lay a slow, steady decline in the terrain running
northward from their current spot and with the parade now stopped around the
crash, the couple could step out into the street for a faster run. Both could see
the downed plane up ahead in the distance. It appeared to be one of those
expensive Gulfstreams with what Tripper recognized as government markings, even
from this distance.
    The jet sat on the west side of the
street pressed up against a building. Mostly intact, it seemed more likely the
plane had been in a car wreck, rather than having just fallen out of the sky.
The Gulfstream seemed to be missing only half of the left wing, which sat
perfectly parallel with the sidewalk in the middle of the street, and the left
wheel, which was not within their view. There was no smoke or fire, but that
didn’t mean there wouldn’t be. The door of the jet already sat open inward and with
the wheel gone, the tilt left only about a six inch drop to the pavement. The
couple could see three people wearing white coats and two wearing blue standing
over what seemed like two immobile bodies, one wearing a white coat, the other clad
in red and gold, likely a parade-goer.
    “Looks…like…somebody died,” panted Tripper,
walking nearly doubled over and trying to vacuum-in more oxygen to avoid a
total flameout.
    Although many sports-clad bystanders
milled around the scene, none seemed to be stressing over the downed reveler or
the other body, the attention of the hundreds of gawkers aimed entirely at the
plane and survivors. Any efforts of those moving about seemed to be directed
towards moving the colorful floats to the east side of the road so emergency
vehicles could approach the scene.
    “That’s sad. I hope they didn’t hit
any kids when they crashed.”
    One of the white coats threw a
black blanket over the pair of bodies.
    “Me…too, babe. I…I only see…the two
bodies, though.”
    “Same here.”
    “Both are…too big…to be a kid,” he grunted
between rapid breaths and a hacking cough or two, spitting phlegm onto the
street. “Unless it’s…a…really big one.”
    She shot him a withering glare and
slowed to let him catch up. The crowd was gathering and growing. At least a
thousand people packed into the double-wide lanes, scurrying through the floats
and bands and trying to make room on the east side of the roadway. Thousands more
were exhibiting better judgment and slowly retreating up the street and away in
case the craft exploded—the exodus was slow because there were simply too many
people to move en masse quickly and the midway point between the couple and the
crash quickly became a choke-point of humanity.
    “I don’t get it,” Tripper muttered
almost too quietly for Sarah to hear, almost.
    “Don’t get what?” she snipped, her
green eyes flashing with annoyance.
    “How does a plane fall…out of the
sky onto a parade…and only hit two people?”
    “It looks like it actually landed
on that side street and slid through the intersection and across the street
there,” she pointed to the right. “See those scrape marks on the corner of that
building there? I think it crashed on eleventh and slid west, bouncing off of
that building and through the parade. Those barricades there probably saved
everyone by keeping them out of that intersection. It’s, like, the only fully
blocked street downtown.”
    “Yeah….that makes sense I guess…but…there
are still thousands of people there. Surely…more than two…should have been
hit.”
    “I guess the Kansas City luck is
really kicking into high gear.”
    “Yeah…that could be it. This
should…look great on the news. Another story…of Kansas City winning.”
    “Well, two people might be dead,
Trip. It’s