Rolling Thunder - 03 (13 page)

Both of us snapped our heads in the direction of the scream. 
A female advanced on us, crawling on all fours to better maintain her balance
and grip on the roof of the train.  Crawford had said we were moving at 40
knots which is about 47 miles an hour.  That’s a strong wind to try and hold on
to a slippery metal surface in the rain, but she was managing to do it.  The
good news was the conditions were slowing her down dramatically or we’d both
already be dead. 

My rifle was somewhere behind my back, dangling from its
sling and I was at completely the wrong angle to reach my pistol.  Drawing my
knife, I was preparing to use one hand to pull Jackson back onto the roof
before engaging the female but was preempted by a single pistol shot.  The
female fell, then slid to the side of the roof and disappeared over the side. 
I looked at Jackson, still with his entire upper body hanging out into space,
only my weight on his legs keeping him from falling head first off the train. 
A pistol was in his right hand and a grimace of exertion on his face as he held
himself into a half sit-up and stable enough to make the shot. 

“Show off,” I shouted to him, sheathing the Ka-Bar before
dragging him onto the roof.

He grinned as he got his feet under him, holstered the
pistol and raised his rifle.  I had mine in my hands by now and we moved so
that our backs were touching, him facing the front of the train, me the rear. 
Rifle up I started scanning with the night scope, identifying females clinging
to the skin of the car we were on and shooting them.  Jackson was also
apparently finding targets as I could feel the gentle bump of his back against
mine as his body absorbed the recoil of the rifle as he fired. 

It didn’t take us long to clear the roof of infected, but
there were still the sides of the cars.  I was turning to tell Jackson to go to
one side but he spun and knocked me flat to the roof.  A second later the train
roared into a tunnel with only a couple of feet of clearance between the roof
of the car and the concrete ceiling.  It was pitch black in the tunnel, but
lights from inside the cars spilled out windows and shone on the walls.  The
noise was deafening and the stench of diesel exhaust was almost overpowering as
it concentrated in the narrow space. 

I was on my belly, still facing the rear and trying to make
my body meld into the roof of the train.  As I lay there I had visions of
something hanging down from the tunnel ceiling and what it would do to my body
at this speed.  Pushing the thought out of my head before I jinxed myself, I
looked along the roof and saw another female crawling directly at me.  Moving
my arm carefully so I didn’t raise any body part that would strike the ceiling
I drew my pistol and extended my arm.  When she saw the pistol aimed at her the
female froze in place.

“What the fuck?”  Jackson said after a long moment.  “Is she
infected or not?”

“She is.  I can see her eyes.  I’ve encountered a few of
these smart ones.”  We had to shout to hear each other, and while I was
distracted with the conversation the female spun around and started crawling away
from us, quickly reaching the opening between cars and dropping down to an
access platform.  Shit.  That’s what I get for letting myself get distracted.

Pistol still gripped I started slithering along the roof
after her.  It didn’t take me long to reach the opening and leading with the
pistol I poked my head over the edge and looked down.  The female was nowhere
to be seen.  Had she gotten in a door into one of the cars?  Fallen off?  Nah,
I never get that lucky.  Staying on the roof I scooted sideways to peer down
one of the sides of the train, but the contrast between the lighted windows and
darkness below prevented me from being able to see anything.  Scooting back to
the middle I pivoted in place without raising my body then slid over the edge,
the platform ringing hollowly when my boots landed on it.

Squatting, I tried to see under the edges of the two cars I
was between, but again it was too dark and the angle was too steep to try and
use the scope on my rifle.  Standing up I looked around.  I was on a shallow
platform that was little more than a steel grate attached to the back of the
car I had roped down onto.  Folding stairs were attached to the edge of the
platform and pulled up and secured with a short chain so they were out of the
way while we were in motion.  The car behind me was set up exactly the same. 
There was a couple of feet of gap between the platforms of the two cars through
which I could see the massive steel coupling that held them together.  Below
that the tracks rushed by and I couldn’t figure out where the bitch went. 

The doors on each of the cars were solid metal without
benefit of windows and appeared to be hydraulically operated, probably so they
couldn’t be opened while the train was in motion since the area between cars
wasn’t exactly safe.  To the right of the door was a large, red metal flap and
there was just enough light for me to make out the stenciled lettering
Emergency Door Release.  Hoping this was truly an emergency release and didn’t
require a special tool or key that only firemen carry, I lifted the flap. 
Behind the flap was a small lever with a T handle on the end, pushed all the
way in.  On either side of it two large arrows pointed down so I followed the
instructions and pulled the lever.

The door in front of me wasn’t wide, no wider than an
interior door in a normal house, and when the lever clicked into place it slid
open and disappeared into the rear wall of the car.  The stench that flowed out
of the car was horrible.  Too many people packed into too tight of a space. 
Correction.  Too many dead people.  For a moment I stared in amazement as the
horrible smells of death, blood, fear, sweat, bowels and bladders washed over
me.  I don’t have a weak stomach, and I’ve been around the violently killed the
majority of my adult life, but this wasn’t like a battlefield.  This was a
charnel house.  Oh God, tell me Rachel wasn’t in this car.

Dead bodies spilled out onto the platform when the door they
were leaning against opened and I wanted to step away from them but there was
nowhere to go.  The shock of the slaughter had distracted me from what had
killed them until I saw movement at the far end of the car.  A female infected
was moving from one body to another, slicked with blood from her forehead to
her knees.    I watched her for a moment then started seeing more movement as
other females shifted from one feast to another.  Raising the pistol I started
firing, stopping only when I’d killed all eleven of the infected that were in
the car.  Shaking slightly, I changed the magazine and holstered the pistol. 
Turning, I was startled to see Jackson standing behind me on the other car’s
platform.

I’ve never seen a black man turn pale before, but he did. 
For a moment I thought he was going to have to lean over the edge and throw up,
but he gulped some air and regained a degree of his composure.  He met my eyes
and opened his mouth, but didn’t say anything.

“First time you’ve been up close?”  I asked.

He nodded as he answered, “Yeah.  I’ve shot plenty out in
the open, and watched APCs – Armored Personnel Carriers – and helicopters take
them out, but… fuck me.  Fuck me.”  He shook his head, staring at the small
stream of blood that was running out of the open door and dripping off the edge
of the platform onto the tracks below.

I pointed at the door behind him and he took a deep breath
and turned.  Reaching up to the side of the door, Jackson pulled the release
lever and the door slid open.  We were at the front end of the car and there
was a little open space, no more than three feet, and every person in the car
was screaming.  A female infected was standing in the open area and had her
hands wrapped in a young girl’s hair as she tore into her throat.  She didn’t
hear the door open and had no idea we were there until Jackson stepped behind
her and yanked her off the girl.  He lifted the female into the air, twisted
and tossed her towards me.  She landed on her back on the platform, head
dangling over the edge and I stomped down on her forehead hard enough to snap
her neck and nearly tear her head off.  Kicking the body off the platform she
vanished under the car and I followed Jackson inside.

There were too many people crammed too tightly together so
neither of us drew a pistol or raised a rifle.  Instead we each pulled out our Ka-Bars
and started working our way through the car, violently pushing evacuees out of
the way so we could reach the females that were attacking.  Stabs to the heads,
hearts, brain stems, anywhere we could use the knife to put them down swiftly
and permanently.  There were already a lot of dead people and we couldn’t help
but step on bodies as we worked our way deeper into the car.

We were both shouting for people to move to the next car as
we slashed and stabbed.  Even if that car was full of dead bodies we needed
room to fight.  The panicked people didn’t hesitate, surging forward and the
car quickly started opening up.  Ahead I saw Jackson ram his knife into the
skull of a female and I spun and pinned one to the floor with my boot as she
lunged at an escaping child.  Before she could fight her way free I killed her
with a stab to the heart, then snapped my head up when I heard a familiar
snarl.  It had to be Dog.  Ignoring everyone else I bulled my way forward,
killing another infected and stepped past Jackson’s broad back.

On the floor a few feet in front of me Dog stood on the body
of the infected he’d just killed and Rachel sat on the bloody floor with
Melanie cradled in her arms, her hand pressed to Mel’s throat.  Blood pulsed
between Rachel’s fingers with a regularity that told me Mel’s carotid artery
had been torn open.  Her eyes were still open and she was looking up at Rachel,
her mouth moving.  Rachel leaned down and put an ear to her mouth for a moment,
then raised up and removed her hand from Melanie’s neck.  The blood had stopped
pulsing.

Carefully lowering the body to the floor Rachel stood up and
looked at me, tears streaming.  I didn’t know if she was happy to see me or was
about to hit me.  I stood my ground when she stepped forward, but instead of
hitting me she wrapped her bloody arms around my neck and pressed her body
tightly to mine.

“I love you.”  She said, squeezing me as tightly as she
could.

The scream of a female infected saved me from having to
immediately respond.  Pushing Rachel away I spun as a young infected girl
squirmed her way into the car through an open window, momentarily getting hung
up on the window frame.  She was screaming and reaching for a family that was
frantically scrambling to get away from her.  I shifted the knife to my left
hand, drew my pistol and fired, the bullet taking off the upper part of her
skull.  The body went limp, hanging down into the car from where its clothing
was snagged.

“Everyone get these damn windows closed!”  I shouted,
scanning the rest of the car for any additional threats.  Up and down the car
men and women leapt to the windows and started closing them.

“We’ve got to clear all the cars.”  I said to Jackson.  He
gave me a look that mirrored what I was thinking.  As tightly packed in as the
evacuees were it would be a royal bitch to move through the train.  A change in
the light from outside the window caught my attention and I looked out the
blood smeared glass.  It took me a moment to realize we had exited the tunnel
and the change was because the light shining out of the car windows was no
longer reflecting on a damp concrete wall.

“Together, or do we go in opposite directions?”  Jackson
asked, checking the load in his rifle magazine. 

“We’d better split up.  You got a preference?”  I was
referring to going forward or back.  Jackson nodded towards the front, turned
and trotted off, waving a couple of the soldiers from the squad that had gotten
Rachel onto the train to follow him.

Motioning to the rest of the squad to follow me, I turned to
head for the car behind us and came face to face with Rachel.  I didn’t know
what to say.  Hell, I didn’t even know what I was feeling.  She couldn’t have
caught me any more off guard than she had.  What I did know was now wasn’t the
time to have a heart to heart discussion about our feelings.  Before I realized
I was doing it I had reached out and placed my hand on the side of her face. 
Just like I would with Katie when I was getting ready to walk out of the door
on a business trip.  Great.  This was all I needed.

Lowering my hand I told Dog to stay with Rachel and trotted
to the back of the car and hit the release for the door.  I was distracted,
thinking about Rachel and what she’d just said to me.  Thinking about Katie and
the emotions and fears that I had walled off so I could focus on staying alive
and finding her.  All those feelings had been painfully released by Rachel’s
profession of love.  Emotions distract us and most likely will get us killed,
and that’s nearly what happened when the door opened. 

A female infected was standing on the platform and as soon
as the door opened she launched herself forward like a missile, leading with
snapping teeth.  I felt her lips brush my throat as I fell backwards into the
car and if not for Dog I would have died.  He had apparently reacted the
instant the door opened and before the female could make another push for my unprotected
throat he slammed into her and the two of them rolled through the door and onto
the narrow platform.  With a scream they both disappeared in the opening
between the two cars.

I scrambled off my back and dashed forward, Rachel right
behind me, pushing soldiers out of the way as we both tried to get to the edge
Dog had fallen over.  On my stomach when I reached the gap I stuck my head into
the open space and looked down.  The female was gone and it took me a moment to
spot Dog in the darkness.  He was straddling the large coupling with his front
legs, his rear swinging in open space just inches above the tracks that were
rushing past.  His eyes were the size of saucers as he held on and I cried out
when he started slipping.  Not thinking of my own safety I surged forward until
all of my upper body was in the gap, the edge of the platform cutting into me
at the belt line.

I had a bad moment there when I felt myself continue to
slip, thinking I was going under the train, but Rachel dove across my legs and
screamed for me to get Dog.  Extending to the limit of my reach I was just able
to get a grip on each of his front legs at the shoulders and not a moment too
soon as he lost all traction on the coupling and slid into open space.  Dog is
a big animal, over 100 pounds, and my hands felt like they were being torn open
but I gritted my teeth and held on as Dog’s rear feet swung just above the
track like a pendulum.  With a loud grunt of exertion I pulled him up, paused
and gave a second mighty pull which brought him up far enough to get his front
paws onto my shoulders. 

Shifting my grip to wrap my arms around his body I pulled
again as he scrambled to get purchase on my back, then he was moving up and
over me and into the car.  Rachel grabbed the back of my belt and moved her
weight off of me as she drug me across the platform and into the car.  When I
was fully back aboard I rolled over onto my back, breathing hard and just lying
there.  Rachel collapsed next to me, head pillowed on my shoulder and Dog came
to stand over me and lick my face.

“OK, that’s one for us to about a hundred for Dog.”  I said,
referring to the number of times he had saved us versus us saving him.  Dog
wouldn’t stop licking and I finally had to push him away.  When I raised my
hand to deflect another lick there was blood running down my arm from inside my
glove.  Pulling my arm out from under Rachel I looked at my other hand and saw
more blood.  Rachel saw it too and sat up quickly.

“You must have torn them open.  I’ve got my pack and the
medical kit.  Let’s get you taken care of.”  She said, standing up and grabbing
my forearm to pull me to my feet.

“After I clear the train,” I said but she was already
shaking her head.

“There’s three perfectly good soldiers standing right
there,” she gestured.  “You don’t have to do everything.  Does he?”  She turned
and looked at the Sergeant that led the squad.

“We’ve got this, sir.”  He said.  I looked at him for a
moment, didn’t see any of the resentment in his face that had been there when
I’d told him to load my people on the train, and finally nodded my agreement. 
He turned and headed for the car behind us with the remainder of the squad on
his heels.

Rachel directed me to an empty seat, keeping a hand on my
arm like I was either an invalid or was going to dash off the moment she let
go.  Unslinging my rifle I put it on the seat next to me and sat back while she
gathered supplies.  Conscripting one of Max’s sons to carry her pack over she
opened it and rummaged through for the med kit which she opened and spread
across another empty seat.  Taking the flashlight off my rifle she handed it to
the boy and told him to shine it on my hands while she worked. 

I had already lost the heavy fast roping gloves but was
still wearing a pair made of thin leather that would help me grip my weapons
even in the rain.  Pulling the Velcro closures at the wrists Rachel carefully
worked these off my hands.  There was so much blood that the inside of the
gloves had stuck to the gauze bandages and she had to pour water from her
canteen into them until they released and could be removed without causing more
damage.  Gloves off, she cut through the bandages that were thoroughly saturated
with blood, tossing them under the seat when they came free.

I had torn out the stiches on both palms and on the back of
my right hand and the wounds from being nailed to the cross by The Reverend
were open, raw and steadily oozing blood.  Rachel shook her head and set to
work organizing the supplies she needed.  While she prepared, Max rolled over
next to me and locked the wheels on his chair.  He took out a pack of
cigarettes, shook one out and saw the look on my face.  He grinned and held the
pack out to me but Rachel slapped my arm when I started to raise my hand to
take one.  Max laughed a deep, throaty laugh, pulled one out of the pack and
placed it between my lips for me.  Lighting his first, he leaned forward and
lit mine.  The first drag was the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted.  I
grinned at the thought that I had a good idea how a heroin addict felt.  Max
mistook my grin for a thank you and nodded a welcome in response.