The massive train with its custom
cars continued west down Highway 24 under a steadily darkening sky, frequently
lit with flashes of multi-colored lightning.
The sky began to cry for the fallen
just before they hit the Manhattan city line, a thick, steady drizzle with a
history of slowly eroding sprits in even the best of circumstances. Calvin
determined to keep his chin up despite the weather. After all, they were in a
nearly indestructible vehicle only a few hours away from dropping off the
doctor so they could finally head south to a real fortress in the hills of
central Missouri.
Nothing can stop us now,
he
thought, finally feeling confident enough to admit it.
“Uh-oh. That’s a steady rain,”
Hephaestus muttered.
“What does that mean for us?”
Calvin asked.
“It means we need to get back on
the rails,” Hephaestus snorted in annoyance.
Shit!
Calvin cursed
silently.
That’s why you don’t count your eggs.
“Just because of a little rain?”
Tripper snapped. “I thought you said this was the ultimate survival vehicle?”
“It is perfect for fewer people,
but not so perfect as a mobile fortress for several dozen people with a particular
destination in mind and a time frame and specific inclement weather.”
“What does the number of people
have to do with it?”
“With fewer people we could have
had a much smaller vehicle and the total weight would have been much less. And
we are also affected by how much rain this area has seen lately. We can go
almost anywhere, but we still need certain conditions for optimal performance.
One of those conditions is fairly solid ground.”
“So we’re in trouble?”
“Not immediately. Our highways here
in America are actually quite resilient to everything but time, seasonal change,
the Army Corps of Engineers and the precociousness of teenagers. We would be just
fine on nearly any other day. And we may get lucky today. But if too much water
is already under the highway from the storms of the past two weeks, and we get
as much rain as appears to be coming our way…we might as easily sink right into
whatever is underneath the pavement.”
“Right…um…that…that’s good to know,”
Calvin spluttered, diving for the laptop and eying the map for a good place to
make the exchange back to the rails.
“Ok. I have it,” he said after a
few minutes of frenzied study.
“Just inside Manhattan there’s a
place where Highway Twenty-four meets One-seventy-seven. It’s a half block from
the tracks and about a mile from the area of the campus we’re heading for. The
road looks pretty flat next to the rails so we can jump right back on there…maybe.
We’ll stop right here in the intersection,” he pointed on the map to where the
highway met a four lane north-south road.
Tripper and Sarah leaned in and
Athena jogged back into the room to look between their shoulders.
“First, we’ll unload the Hedgehog
with the doc and escort him and the Captain into the facility,” Calvin
explained.
“You are taking only the Hedgehog?”
Hef asked in surprise.
“Yes. The Hedgehog should be good
enough. Faster, armed, armored with a slightly lower-profile. You can put your Dragon
back on the tracks and still have the Paddy Wagon and your van in case everyone
needs to make an escape some other way.”
“But you will have a lot of people
crammed into a small space.”
“No, I’ll just take a few with the
soldiers. You need to have the Paddy Wagon here in case you have to evac in a
hurry. And all turrets need to be manned.”
“Still, I doubt we will need both
vehicles,” Hef rubbed his chin in thought.
“You never know when you might need
to abandon ship,” Calvin pointed out.
“I will go down with my ship,”
Hephaestus stated emphatically.
“There ain’t no Atheists in foxholes,”
Tripper quipped.
“What does that have to do with
anything, Tripper,” Hef asked in confusion.
“It means you’ll change your mind when
the ship is sinking, so keep the vehicles.”
“Perhaps,” Hef admitted with a
smile for his friend. “But if it means I would have to share a lifeboat with
you, I think I would rather drown.”
Everyone shared a laugh at Trip’s
expense.
“Screw you, Hef. I’m going with
Calvin.”
“I think we should at least take
either the van or the Paddy Wagon, Calvin,” Athena suggested when the laughing
died down. “It will get fairly crowded even with only half of us in the
Hedgehog.”
“As I said, I’m not sure we all
need to go,” he countered. “There aren’t any reports of Infected out this far
yet.”
“Still, if you meet another mob,
you might want as many weapons as possible…”
“You’re right, babe. Let me think
about it.”
“You’re not going to think about
it. You’ve already decided,” she accused him.
Calvin hadn’t told any of the
others, even Athena, but he had actually considered disabling the van and Paddy
Wagon so that those in the train would have no choice but to head for his
uncle’s place if things went sour with the Doc, only deciding against it
because Athena might actually be right. They might need help, and mobility was
their greatest asset for now. And if something happened to him on the delivery,
no one would know what he had done to disable the other two vehicles. Unwilling
to let it go now, Athena pulled him aside and the two yelled for nearly five
minutes while the others pretended not to hear.
In the end, Calvin wisely chose to
take both the Hedgehog and Paddy Wagon. It had worked out for them so far and
everyone was comfortable with the arrangements. Gus and Scaggs weren’t happy
about being left behind for the final mission, but the doctor insisted that
they were to remain in bed. In the face of their incessant begging, however, he
was forced to compromise, agreeing that the least they could do was operate the
nail guns atop the engine as long as they experienced no lingering effects from
their beating. Following this latest encounter, with actual civilians like
themselves, and with one fight already under their belts, all parents were now
armed, armored and ready for action. Saul had pointed out, rather belatedly,
that perhaps if the parents had shown themselves to the crowd things might have
gone differently, seeing as how they were all middle-aged ‘normal’ people.
Calvin steadfastly refused to allow
the parents to tag along on missions or be allowed to become vulnerable in any
manner, however. In his lone concession, for the sake and sanity of those stuck
on the train, he allowed Felicia and Joel to wear chest cameras so the others
could follow the mission on their monitors as if they were sitting back in a
mission briefing room. They would be able to keep tabs through the
communication system and could come to the aid of the main group if something
too drastic occurred.
Twenty tension-filled minutes
later, during which the alert group did little but watch leaf-stripped trees
and equally empty fields pass innocently by, the train reached the intersection
safely. The friends and family unloaded in near professional fashion. This was
likely due to the fact that everyone took their cues from the soldiers. As soon
as the train stopped in the center of the intersection thirty feet from the
field through which the tracks passed, Captain Batmouche’ began shouting orders
and all but Calvin set to with energetic abandon. Saul, Mr. Grissom, Ed
McClintock and Mo manned the turrets. GI Jane and Gimp Bate were sent to provide
additional cover from a group of trees lining the highway. Within two minutes
both vehicles were backing out of the huge car.
Calvin once again rode in the
passenger seat of the Hedgehog, Felicia next to him behind the wheel; everyone
seemed more comfortable with her driving. The doctor and his precious case sat behind
Calvin. Boomer and Lucy ran the turrets. When the vehicles had pulled into the
center of the merging highways, the flaming-haired captain ordered her people
into the back with Trip. The two privates, having remained just long enough to
dig out comfortable sitting positions, slouched morosely back to the others. Quinn
was once again driving his precious Paddy Wagon with Athena riding shotgun and
Sarah in a jump seat behind them.
The tiny, well-armed caravan
cruised quickly down highway 24 into the seemingly deserted college town entirely
unchecked, occasionally noting heads popping out a door here, several curious people
peeking through a window there. None of the town inhabitants showed their faces
until the vehicles neared Kimball Avenue, the last turn before their
destination. Once again a crowd blocked their way. Lacking noticeable weapons,
however, this mob seemed much more peaceable, entirely populated with students wearing
dirty, mud-stained jeans and grimy sweaters, some in blue K-State rain gear to
keep out the damp midday drizzle. Instead of rifles, each held a sign that
read; ‘Free the Uninfected!” and “Let us Out!” or “Tear down that wall!” or “We’re
not sick, you fucking Prick!” and one bearded man in grubby jeans and a tie-dye
shirt sat under a tree waving a sign that read “Legalize It/420,” even though
they had, in fact, already done so. The others waved their signs in as threatening
a manner as one who is holding flat plastic and cardboard could wave at two
approaching vehicles that were armed with machine guns. At the approach of the Hedgehog,
those sitting off to the sides stood and stepped into the street while the rest
closed ranks behind them to block the roadway.
“How did they know where we’re
going?” Boomer grumbled in disgust. “How the hell does
everyone
know
where we’re going?”
“Politicians are involved,” Calvin
explained. “The press probably knows what is going to happen before the orders
are actually given.”
“But the government said they’ve
blocked all of the signals,” Boomer spat.
“You can’t stop the signal, Man,”
Tripper explained. “Everything goes somewhere.”
“Nice,” Boomer replied dryly. “Thanks
Mr. Universe.”
“Seriously, though. You’ve still got
satellite phones,” Tripper argued. “And they can’t block all of the radio
waves. Plus the County Sheriffs and State Troopers have radios. Not to mention
many old-fashioned ways of communicating. People are prepared for shit like
this, man. Damn Government can’t keep us all down.”
“Let’s not get carried away,” Sarah
cautioned. “These people might have been here the entire time waiting, knowing
someone was going to have to come here eventually,” she suggested hesitantly,
not believing her own story. She had realized they had yet another problem to
worry about—how would they make it south to Hobbes Castle if everyone knew they
were coming?
“I think they’re normal protestors
and this outbreak just fits what they already had to say,” Athena stated
casually, putting their minds at ease, if only slightly.
“Hi there,” Calvin called over the
PA. “Beautiful day…could you please move?”
Instead of separating, the bodies
moved closer together, forming a tighter line to blockade the road and
sidewalks on either side.
“Ha ha. Funny. I meant out of our
way. Please move or we will be forced to shoot you with many painful
projectiles,” Calvin said, and then explained exactly what was about to happen
for anyone paying attention. “It will hurt, but you will most likely not die
and you will be forced to live in pain for a long time with inadequate medical
treatment.”
Several of the less devoted
protesters quickly stepped back off the street and away from the sidewalks, but
bravely and energetically waved the signs to make up for their obvious lack of
stupidity. The rest of the demonstrators, the hardliners, began to call the
discretionary few names and some even sent obscene gestures their way. But the minority
that had stepped aside knew a mismatch and imminent ass-whipping when it saw
one, and had recognized just such an event rapidly approaching its clueless brethren.
“I’m gonna kick some serious ass
when we get out of this,” Boomer promised.
“Get ready on the turrets,” Calvin
ordered with a resigned sigh.
“They’re real people, Calvin,” Lucy
complained. “I don’t want to shoot any more real people. Just run them over,”
she suggested ardently, but her aim remained steady on the group of students blocking
their way.
“Sure, that’s merciful,” Boomer
snorted. “Let’s break their legs and crush other body parts and leave them to
the mercy of what looks like is gonna be a good-sized thunderstorm instead of
sending them out of here with a few minor puncture wounds.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,”
Calvin said over the PA, pausing again to give anyone having second thoughts adequate
time to step aside. “Look, we are just people like you and we’re on the most
important mission in the country right now. We’re trying to save every one of
you and don’t have time for delays.”
Only a young man and two women, all
wearing K-State sweaters, ran over to the iron fence to stand out of the way
with the others. “Ok, fire,” Calvin muttered angrily.
“Really?” Lucy asked. “Can’t we do
something else?”
“You’re just shooting them with
nails,” Tripper reminded her. “Hit them with a few darts each in the
extremities. The options are to shoot them with guns or crippling them with
vehicular assault. I think they’ll be very appreciative when they look back on
it, maybe even count it as a life lesson one day.”
“Good point,” Lucy smiled. “I’m
saving lives,” she grinned and started firing into the legs of the crowd.
Signs fell immediately to the
ground as screams and yells erupted from the assemblage that could be heard quite
clearly inside the approaching vehicles. The pair of gunners concentrated on
the more active members and aimed at the fleshier parts of their anatomy, the
thick of the thighs, shoulders, right side of the chest and shoulder, the parts
they felt would be least likely to kill. Soon all of the activists were far less
preoccupied with holding their signs and chanting and instead much more intent on
hobbling out of the path of the approaching vehicles. Many, however, moved
bravely with middle fingers raised on one hand while the other clutched a
cluster of nails protruding from flesh. A few had to be helped from the street
by those who had opted out of this violent encounter and the two vehicles
slowed to give them time to remove their friends, before casually rolling past
and giving the students little more thought.