It's amazing how much a tank of fuel actually runs for. You'd think that eleven gallons of aviation grade petrol would see you across the states. Or at the very least, out of one state, and not spending twelve hours struggling through heavy rainfall in an empty and unguided airspace, knowing that touching down at any point meant certain death by way of zombie mauling.
Three of the four on board could fly the airborne ambulance helicopter, and had taken to shuffling the duty every couple of hours. Despite the hell on the streets below, those not busying themselves with flying the helicopter had taken to playing cards in the hold and trying to cook something of the tinned food they had salvaged on a gas burning stove. Although this was not a good idea in retrospect as the fire warning went off and they were thrown briefly out of control, resulting in screaming hysterics and the loss of sideburns for an unfortunate photographer.

A relatively uneventful flight later, they were long gone from the city. Somewhere over the edge of the suburbs, the helicopter was complaining at it's pilot for more fuel. Not a good sign, as even though they had some extra cans of fuel on board they would have to stop and land to even start re-fuelling.

"Fifty-fifty chance we get shit-kicked by zombies." An un-enthusiastic Axel grumbled from the cockpit as he surged the helicopter forwards, grinding all the distance he could out of the fuel before it entered dire straits.

"More ninety-ten. 'You looked at the ground recently?" Sadly Kathryn was correct, as a glance out of the bottom of the cockpit revealed jittering twitching zombies following the helicopter as closely as they could. Those that fell behind were replaced by new infected emerging from the suburban houses and treelines, denying any safe haven on the ground.

"Do you think we can make it further out into the country? Towards Riverside?" Jack raised a valid point, as Riverside county was home to a fishing village and a ranger airbase, complete with a secured helicopter tower.

"If you're thinking about that tower, don't you remember how secure the hospital was? As a 'military checkpoint'?" While slightly defeatist, L was right. The hospital was meant to be safe, and instead it was a massacre.

"Well we have two options L." Axel rebuked. "We can fly to the tower, try to refuel, then fly across the river to the next checkpoint – which I checked by the way, it's a highway police station. Or..." He turned his head to face the cabin, his voice dropping low as he delivered the less favourable choice. "We can run out of fuel, land somewhere in the middle of nowhere, try to refuel and die horrible deaths at the hands of the infected horde."

"In depth description not necessary." Jack sighed, standing in the cabin and moving to join Axel in the cockpit as a co-pilot. "You know where the ranger station is right"

"I haven't got a damn clue." Axel admitted.

"I'll navigate us there. Meanwhile, L? Kathryn? Start sorting the stuff yeah?"

Nodding in approval, Kathryn and L busied themself with sorting the various bags and boxes of weapons, ammunition, tinned food, fresh food, bottled water medical supplies, and survival gear like rope clasps binoculars and other outdoor memorabilia that in their present scenario they would probably be able to loot from the corpse of a dead forest hiker. Had they not fought their way out of zombie hell to get to where they were, that thought would of been nauseating. It was almost sad to think it was a valid strategy for survival at this point.

"Hey hoodie guy, one more thing." Kathryn called into the cockpit as she forced another tin of frozen spaghetti Bolognese into a rucksack that refused to close despite her demand that it does so.

"Yeah what is it news girl, I'm not busy flying a chopper or anything."

"Well you didn't know where you're going so you clearly aren't. Anyway, are you feeling alright now? You did get busted up towards the end there." She pried, getting the final victory over the defiant backpack in the process.

"Meh, I'm fine." Axel shrugged, nodding towards Jack. "He was the one who decided to punch a dozen zombies to death before he got on board."

"I think L has one up on me for dumbass stunts." Jack said in his defense. "He had a bit of a schitzo moment when he got his hands on a crowbar."

"I don't remember that." L said, slightly dismayed at the possibility. "And besides, what about Ms. homemade explosives? How many of those pipe bombs were you carrying!?"

"Enough to scatter us about ten miles in every direction, if I had them with me right now." Kate chirped, with a worrying glint in her eye at the idea of such a blunder.

With some awkward laughs and sighing dismissals the team went back to what they were focussing on. Or not, as Axel had taken to throwing cans out of the helicopter to see how many zombies he could hit. He scored around eight before he ran out of empty tins and cans. And even he wasn't too keen on firing a gun when there's full fuel cans jammed behind his seat.

Soon the houses had left their view behind them, and the rolling hills carpeted in spiny pine trees leading into the mountains were the only scenery for miles in every direction. It would have been a nice view, if they weren't ten minutes from being grounded to refuel, or worse crash to the ground.

"You know, I used to like the wildlife out here." Kate confessed, looking forlornly out of the cabin window. "The birds were really pretty."

"Times have sure changed." Jack muttered, as the sounds of the new 'wildlife' echoed from below.

Muttering, groaning, screaming, crying, growling. The only wildlife was that of the infected humans skulking in the forest below. It seems they weren't free of hell yet.