Transmission: Voodoo Plague Book 5 by Dirk Patton Page B

struck the base of the
Antonov’s right wing, the warhead detonating.  The wing sheared off and
thousands of pounds of jet fuel ignited, the plane vanishing in a thunderous
explosion that blew out windows all across Albuquerque.  Two of the Migs that
had been targeted successfully evaded the SAMs, but five more weren’t so lucky
and met the same fate as their larger brethren.
    Irina Vostov stood on the tarmac, staring northeast in
horror at the massive fireball.  The smoke trails from the missiles still
visible in the clear air, she cursed the Americans.  Had the Major betrayed
her?  Taken the vaccine and given her the nukes only to destroy them before
they could be used?  Was he mad?  Didn’t he understand?  Anger overcoming her
fatigue, she pulled out her satellite phone and punched in her uncle’s phone
number.

13
     
    I slowed when I saw the sign for the West Memphis Airport. 
Would Rachel and Jackson have gone back there, even though they knew it had
already been evacuated?  I didn’t think so, but I couldn’t ignore the
possibility and not check.  Taking the indicated exit, I rolled down the ramp,
slowing to steer around a small, foreign sedan lying on its side in the middle
of the road.  There were no other vehicles around it and I wondered if the
tornados I had been told about had turned it over, or maybe even dropped it
there.
    The two-lane road at the bottom of the exit was obscured
with muddy water that had washed onto it through a break in an adjacent dike. 
The heavy Lexus navigated the axle deep water without any drama, wrapping me in
the luxury of its air conditioning and ventilated seats.  This was the most
comfortable I’d been in quite some time, but I’d trade it at the drop of a hat
if I got to the airport and found Rachel waiting impatiently for me.
    I drove past the airport before I realized I had arrived. 
The tall control tower was the landmark I had been looking for, and not seeing
it, I hadn’t recognized the area.  Slamming on the brakes, I reversed and took
the access road that cut across a muddy field.  I could see the single runway,
but there was nothing else remaining.  No control tower.  No hangars.  Nothing
other than some twisted steel and small piles of debris where the structures
had been.
    Coming to a stop, I sat and stared in awe at the total
devastation.  A tornado, or perhaps more than one, had literally wiped the
airport off the map.  Anything that was more than a couple of feet tall had been
ripped away.  Letting off the brake I allowed the SUV to idle forward, steering
onto the tarmac.  I was looking at the damage, not where I was driving, and was
surprised when first the right front, then right rear tire hit a big pothole. 
Stopping, I looked in the mirror.  There was a chunk missing out of the
asphalt!  How powerful had these damn storms been?
    There was little point in wasting any more time at what had
been the airport.  I could see for a very long distance in every direction, and
other than debris, muddy fields and pools of dirty water, nothing was visible. 
Hooking a U-Turn, I left on the same road I had come in on, turning back to
resume my eastward trek on I-40.
    The total destruction of the airport disheartened me.  If
they had been caught by one of the tornados, they were dead.  There was no
getting around that.  My only hope was they had somehow been able to either
avoid the storms, or find shelter.  Maybe in West Memphis?  If West Memphis was
even still on the map.  Time to find out.
    Reaching the entrance ramp to I-40 east, I slowly
accelerated up onto the freeway, dodging big potholes where pieces of the
asphalt were missing.  Shaking my head, I avoided another wreck by driving into
the median.  The SUV’s four wheel drive came in handy.  I was sure a two wheel
drive vehicle would have dug into the soft earth and gotten stuck.
    I had only driven a few more miles when I noticed a cluster
of vehicles scattered across the