Rolling Thunder - 03 (12 page)

The Colonel led the way to a janitor’s closet that had a
steel ladder leading straight up to a hatch set into the ceiling.  Climbing
easily, he paused at the top to work the release mechanism before shoving the
hatch all the way open.  A blast of air from the Black Hawk’s rotor drove a
large amount of rain into our faces as we climbed the ladder.  The roof was
steep and gabled, slippery from the rain and all of us moved in a crouch with
one hand also touching to help with balance and grip.  The Black Hawk pilot moved
into a hover with the side door adjacent to a high point and we scrambled up
and into the helicopter the way only men accustomed to unusual boardings
could.  Once we were on board with safety tethers attached, the pilot spun us
around and brought us over the rear of the trains, about 300 feet in the air.

The two trains were running parallel to each other, the one
on the right maintaining a steady speed as the one on the left accelerated.  I
worked a set of head phones over my ears so I could communicate on the
intercom.

“Hey, Master Sergeant.  How far before those tracks
converge?”  They might be running parallel now, but that’s because we were in
an urban area.  In rural areas the railroads would generally only have one
track that would branch out as it came into cities. 

“About 20 miles.  The switch gear is already set and we’ve
got a couple of Apaches on station to make sure no one screws with it.” 
Sometimes I absolutely loved the Army.

I still wanted to hear the story of Fort Campbell, but when
I looked around Crawford and Captain Blanchard were in a deep conversation over
a tablet computer the Captain held in his lap.  Not feeling like trying to
insert myself into their tete-a-tete I moved closer to the open side door,
staying back enough to avoid the worst of the wind whipped rain, and looked
down at the train.  Lightning flashed, momentarily lighting the world and I
didn’t like what I saw.  I called the pilot on the intercom and had him turn on
a spotlight and focus it on the train below us.

Dozens of infected females were clinging to the sides of
many of the cars and a fairly large group of them had made it onto the roofs of
several cars and were roaming about looking for a way into the smorgasbord
beneath their feet.  As I watched, one of them lay down and leaned over the
side, finding an open window that she quickly slithered through.  Shit.  A lot
of these people weren’t going to be armed and wouldn’t have a good way of
fighting off the females.  Before I could say or do anything another one followed
and disappeared inside the train.

“We’ve got infected on the train, going in windows.”  I
called out over the intercom.  A moment later Crawford moved next to me and
looked out the open door.

Moving back into the cabin I checked a couple of equipment
lockers and found a coiled fast rope.  Fast roping is normally only done out of
a stable, hovering helicopter.  Trying to do it out of one in flight onto a
moving platform, slick from rain like the roof of the train is downright
insane, but that’s what I was going to do.  Those people in the train needed
someone down there that could help in a fight.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”  Crawford asked,
looking at the rope I was busily securing to the helicopter.

“I’m going down there, sir.”  I checked the connection of
the rope and tugged as hard as my weakened hands would allow to test it. 
Weakened hands.  I’d forgotten about my injuries.  Oh well, if I let go I’d
just get down that much faster.

“Are you crazy?  No, you are crazy.  We’re moving at 40 knots. 
You can’t control the rope and your descent at this speed.”

“I’ve done it before,” I lied.  “It’s not easy, but it can
be done.  Unless you’re ordering me not to go down there and help those people,
sir.”  I paused and looked Crawford in the eye.  He stared right back, jaw set
as he probably debated hitting me over the head and handcuffing me.

“You’re a crazy son of a bitch.  You know that?”

“Been told that a time or two, sir.”  I grinned, slipping on
the heavy leather gloves that had been in the locker with the rope.  Over the
intercom I filled the pilot in on what I was doing and he said something
similar to Crawford, then wished me luck as he started bringing us down closer
to the train.  Looking around to make sure everyone was clear of the rope I
pushed it out the door where it uncoiled smoothly and started flapping in the
wake of our travel.  I would have much preferred to have the pilot fly low
enough for me to just step out the door and onto the train, but trains create a
lot of turbulence as they move and it was also pretty dark out there.  If the
train went into a tunnel or under an overpass the pilot wouldn’t have time to
pull up.  For that matter, the same could happen to me dangling from a rope
like a moron.

“Hold on,” I heard Master Sergeant Jackson say over the
intercom.  Looking around I saw him slipping on a pair of gloves.  Crawford was
shaking his head, but moved to the edge of the open door to assist.  Pulling
off the headset I gave Crawford a wink and a thumbs up as I stepped backwards
to the edge of the door, rope in hand.

Looking down I didn’t like how the rope was whipping all
over the place.  In theory, when my weight came on it would straighten out, and
while I might be blown a little behind the helicopter I should still come straight
down onto the train.  In theory.  Of course there’s probably a reason why no
one does this. 

Watching Crawford I could tell he was communicating with the
pilot, waiting for word that we were as stable as we were going to get. 
Jackson moved in front of me, facing the door but ready to grab on and follow
me down.  I met his eyes and grinned when he mouthed “crazy motherfucker” to
me.  Yep.  Couldn’t argue with that assessment.  Colonel Crawford suddenly
leaned towards me and flashed a thumbs up.  I didn’t hesitate, because I knew
if I did I’d never step out of this perfectly good aircraft. 

Normally when you fast rope out of a helicopter you go
straight down and only have to worry about controlling your descent, not unlike
sliding down a brass pole in an old fashioned fire house.  This was nothing
like that.  As soon as my body exited the door and entered the air flow created
by our speed I was whipped back so severely that I nearly smashed into the
belly of the Black Hawk, and I started spinning like a top in the slipstream. 
My hands hurt like they were being flayed open but I gripped tighter, pulling
the rope as close to my body as I could, using just my feet to control my
speed.  I slid fast and as I got further below the helicopter the wind steadied
so I was only being pushed back a small amount, but still spun and was getting
dizzy.  Watching the swiftly approaching roof I clamped as hard as I could with
my boots, slowing a little, but the rope was wet and I barely controlled my
slide. 

Two seconds after I stepped out the door my boots hit the
roof of the train, hard, and I stumbled.  If not for my grip on the rope I
would have fallen and gone off the roof.  Catching my balance I kneeled, maintained
my grip on the rope, looked up and signaled for Jackson.  It’s not unusual for
multiple guys to be on a rope at the same time, following each other out the
door with minimal spacing.  This way you get a lot of boots on the ground in a
hurry.  I was glad Jackson had the experience and forethought to wait for me to
make it down in these conditions before he started.

He was down quickly, boots hitting hard when he landed. 
They hit too hard and his feet went out from under him, legs flailing in the
air as he started sliding towards the edge of the roof.  He still had one hand
wrapped around the rope, but it was slipping through his grip as he skidded
across the slick metal roof.  I lunged for him, landing on top of his legs, pinning
them with my body weight and arresting his slide with his upper body hanging
over the edge.  I was reaching for his hand when an infected female screamed
from only a few feet away.

The son of a bitch!  How could he abandon her like that? 
Rachel’s emotions threatened to overwhelm her and she squeezed tighter on Dog. 
Part of her thought she should let Dog go with John, but at the moment he was
all that was keeping her from having a complete breakdown.  Confused and angry
she tried to deal with her emotions.  She’d never been one to fall in love easily,
or even get infatuated with whatever man happened to come along and smile at
her.  For the past several years she’d been too busy with work and medical
school to even entertain the idea of a relationship.  That didn’t mean she
hadn’t dated occasionally, though never any of the guys from the strip club
she’d worked in.  A couple of doctors and one fellow medical student. 

The doctors had both been looking for trophy wives, one of
them actually proposing on their third date.  He had offered to pay for the
rest of her schooling and make sure she got into a good teaching program when
she was ready to start her residency.  Their third date was their last.  The
classmate had been an immature, narcissistic jerk and to this day she couldn’t
understand why she’d slept with him on their first and only date.  Now she
finally met a man that treated her like an equal, a partner, taking charge when
needed yet willing to listen to her ideas and suggestions.  He wasn’t exactly
the most handsome man she’d ever met, way too battered and rugged, but that was
part of his charm.  Had she fallen in love with him?  With a married man that
was only thinking of finding his wife? 

“Let’s go!”  Melanie was grabbing her arm and Rachel snapped
out of her reverie, realizing that the group had already started moving off
with the small squad of soldiers escorting them.  Pulling her arm out of
Melanie’s grip, she’d seen the way John had noticed the smaller woman’s looks,
she called Dog and rushed to catch up with the group.  Melanie fell in opposite
of Dog and tried to match the pace Rachel was setting with her long legs.

“You have a problem with me?”  She asked as they strode
towards the back of the group.

“I don’t even know you.  How could I have a problem with
you?”  Rachel answered without looking at the woman.  They caught up with the
group and Rachel positioned herself next to Max as one of his older boys pushed
the wheel chair.

At the head of the group the soldiers on point were pushing
the crowd aside to create a path for them.  There were grumblings from the
people and a few shouts of anger.  One man refused to step aside and two of the
soldiers knocked him out of their path and pointed their rifles at the
surrounding bodies to make sure no one decided it would be a good idea to
retaliate.  No one was happy, but then no one was foolish enough to test the
determination of the soldiers.

Rachel was dismayed to see what was happening.  The thought
of American military personnel forcing their way through a frightened crowd of
American citizens that were only trying to escape certain death was a sobering
one.  Modern Americans, despite isolated terrorist attacks like the World Trade
Center, had never had to deal with conflict and strife in person, in their own
cities.  Evacuations, refugees and military interventions that wound up killing
civilians was something that happened elsewhere and was watched on the evening
news while one was comfortable in their nice, warm home.  This was still
surreal to Rachel, and to everyone else around her she suspected.

“You understand why he left, don’t you?”  Melanie’s question
re-focused her on the here and now.

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is, I don’t know what there is between the two
of you, but he didn’t leave you.  He left because he saw all these people and
wasn’t going to take even a single seat on that train so he could be safe.  If
he did that then someone else would get left behind and die.”  Rachel came to a
full stop, but the soldier behind her put a hand in the middle of her back and kept
her moving with the group.  Tears started flowing down Rachel’s cheeks again as
she walked and she cursed herself for letting stupid emotions affect her this
much.

The group reached the entrance to a passenger car and came
to a halt as the soldiers cleared civilians out of the way.  A narrow path
opened up and the Sergeant waved Max and his equipment forward.  When he was
loaded, the Sergeant started moving the women up and onto the small access
platform at the rear of the car.  It must have been crowded inside already as
the boarding process was slow.  Rachel jumped when both trains sounded their
whistles and anxious voices in the crowd were raised as bodies started pushing
in.  Looking over her shoulder and at the train station Rachel could see the balcony
and there were now four figures standing on it watching over the loading of the
trains.  There were more shouts and gunfire started erupting all around them.  She
started to turn but Melanie grabbed her arm.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Rachel whirled on her and roughly pulled her arm away. 
“Look, I know you mean well, but…”

“But nothing,” Melanie stepped forward and shoved her face
at Rachel.  With their different heights it was more like she shoved it at
Rachel’s chest, but her mouth was set and her eyes as intense as her voice. 
“Don’t be stupid.  I’ve known him for all of 20 minutes and I can already tell
he’s a survivor.  You really think the Army doesn’t have a plan to get their
people out of here?  I guarantee you they do, and he’ll be right there with
them.  Unless some stupid woman causes him to have to try and rescue her and
they both wind up getting killed.”

Rachel stared back at the big, blue eyes that were looking
up at her.  She wanted to punch the perfect little nose, smash the cheerleader
white smile, kick the perky little ass all over the parking lot and leave the
woman lying in the rain.  Dog, picking up on the tension, forced his body
between the two women and repeatedly shoved his nose against Rachel’s balled
fist until she relaxed and opened her hand.  Automatically she started rubbing
his ears and the tension suddenly bled out of her and left her feeling
exhausted.

“Let’s get on the fucking train.”  She said in resignation and
turned back to the queue of women waiting to board.

There was more firing from the far side of the other train,
then Rachel heard at least two machine guns join the fight.  They fell silent
after no more than 15 seconds, the crowd quickly disintegrating into a mob. 
From behind her two of the soldiers that were providing rear guard started
firing their rifles at panicked civilians who were charging them.  Rachel
thought about turning to help, but just then the queue started moving and she
followed Melanie up the steps and into the back of the car with Dog on her
heels.  The soldiers pressed in behind her and stepped up to guard the
platform, still firing occasional shots at the angry mob.

The inside of the car was packed with humanity and was
oppressively hot and humid.  The people crammed up against the walls were
opening windows to get some ventilation.  Rachel was pushed farther into the
car as the remainder of the squad boarded.  It was standing room only and she
wound up face to face with Melanie, Dog jammed in between their legs.  Face to
face wasn’t exactly accurate and Melanie turned her head back and forth, trying
to find a position where her face wasn’t pressed into Rachel’s breasts.  Rachel
wasn’t happy with the arrangement either and they finally shifted their bodies
around until Melanie’s face was against her shoulder.

“If you can see the pervert that just grabbed my ass would
you be kind enough to shoot him?”  Melanie said, trying to turn and see who was
groping her, but they were jammed in too tight by now and she could hardly
move.  Rachel tried, and failed, to stifle a laugh. 

“What’s so funny?”

“The world has ended.  The apocalypse is here and men are
still grabbing ass whenever the opportunity presents itself.  Some things will
never change.”  Melanie looked up at her for a moment and started laughing
too.  The mirth didn’t last long.  New screams from outside the train floated
through the open windows, silencing every conversation in the car.  The
infected were here.

The train lurched hard as it started rolling, people towards
the rear of the car shouting and complaining as everyone was thrown back by the
sudden start.  For a moment there was so much pressure on her body that Rachel
couldn’t breathe, then as people regained their balance the pressure lessened. 
The train started rolling, more screams and now gunfire right outside the
windows.  Rachel craned her neck around to try and see but there were too many
heads in the way.  They were gaining speed, slowly, and Rachel was worried that
the infected could overwhelm the train.  No sooner had she had that thought
than there was the bass pulsing of rotor blades from above the roof then some
kind of very large gun started firing into the ground right outside the train.

The firing and explosions seemed to go on forever.  All too
frequently there was the sound of shrapnel striking the metal train car they
were in.  Once a round must have been almost right on top of them, shrapnel
shattering a couple of windows and eliciting screams of pain from injured
passengers.  Speed continued to build and eventually either the firing ceased
or they moved away from the battle, Rachel couldn’t tell which.  She tried to
relax.  Tried not to think about John and get herself upset and angry all over
again.  Instead, thought about why the shorter woman managed to just rub her
the wrong way. 

“So, what is the story with you two?”  Melanie asked,
speaking into Rachel’s right shoulder.

“We met the day of the attacks in Atlanta and have been
together since.  I can’t hardly believe that was less than three weeks ago.  It
feels like we’ve been fighting and running together forever.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know it’s not what you meant, and it’s none of your
goddamn business.”  Rachel could feel Melanie nod her head.

“So you wouldn’t mind if I made a run at him?”  Rachel
couldn’t believe what she had just heard.  Was this woman a psycho?  One of
those that had to have a man just because another woman had him or might want
him?  She was half a second from going off when she started feeling Melanie
shaking.  It took her another second to realize it was laughter.

“You’re real funny.  Did anyone ever tell you that?”  Rachel
said, no longer angry but not amused either.

“Sorry, but you just answered my question, and maybe your own
question too.”  Rachel thought about it, and was opening her mouth to say
“Bitch” when a chorus of screams erupted from the front of the car. 

Rachel snapped her head towards the commotion, banging her
chin on the top of Melanie’s head.  The car was lit, poorly, but lit by a dim
string of lights attached to the center of the ceiling and running from front
to rear.  They gave enough illumination for Rachel to see an infected female
wreaking havoc amongst the tightly packed evacuees near the front of the car. 
Before she could react another one came through an open window and immediately
fell on the people jammed against the wall of the car.

“Close the windows!  They’re coming in the windows!”  Rachel
screamed. 

A couple of people heard her and started closing their
windows, but another female slithered in just across from Rachel and latched on
to a tall man.  The evacuees were packed in so tight there was no room for them
to move away from the danger.  No room to fight.  Of the ones that were being
attacked most of them couldn’t even get their arms free of the crush to defend
themselves.  The females took full advantage, slashing and biting as they
scrambled across the sea of heads.

The stench of hot blood as well as other bodily fluids being
released flooded the car, the people’s animal instincts reacting to the smells.
 Panicked screams erupted as people frantically shoved on their neighbors as
they tried to get away from the threats.  There was a shot and a scream, then
more guns started firing.  None of the gunfire seemed to have any impact on the
females and another one came in one of the front windows and added her fury to
the attacks.

Rachel was wedged tight between Melanie and the soldier
behind her.  The front of the car was getting the worst of the attacks and the
panicked people were pressing towards the rear as hard as they could,
compressing their fellow riders so that most of them couldn’t even breathe. 
Rachel wanted to get her arms free, get her rifle up, but she was stuck as
tight as if a heavy blanket had been wrapped around her and chained in place. 
She could barely even draw a breath and nearly peed her pants when another
female came through the window directly across from her.