Rolling Thunder - 03 (20 page)

It took a few minutes for the Humvee crews to distribute the
flares and we lost a lot more people while that was happening.  But then the
flares were burning, hot enough to be clearly visible to the thermal imagers
onboard the helicopters even through the dense fog, and I felt a sense of
relief when I heard multiple miniguns start firing.  The door gunners in the
hovering Black Hawks didn’t have distinct targets, but they could see the crude
perimeter we had created with the flares and they just hosed down everything
outside that area. 

The occasional infected still leaked through and had to be
dispatched, some of them with horrific injuries that would have killed them in
a short amount of time anyway, but their enraged brains hadn’t let their bodies
give up yet and they were still dangerous.  As a group we were able to pick up
speed, and I wanted to get to the front so I could manage any surprises that
were waiting for us.  I put on extra speed, Jackson and Dog easily staying with
me and after a moment Rachel fell in right behind us.  We dodged through gaps
in the fleeing evacuees, finally reaching the ragged front edge of the group. 
A young Army Lieutenant was running at the point with a road flare held high
over his head, an equally young Army Specialist at his side with rifle ready to
defend both of them.

We settled in right behind them, wisely not passing them as
bursts of minigun fire were shredding the infected that were in our path only a
few yards ahead.  Next to me Jackson was on the radio telling the other
soldiers to pick up the pace and tighten up the group.  Rachel was staying with
us, breathing heavily but maintaining the pace.  Dog was trotting along with
his tongue hanging out, for all the world appearing to be enjoying the
exercise.

The Hummers and Bradley had backed off when the Black Hawk’s
door gunners had opened up and were trailing us at a safe distance so they
didn’t wind up casualties of friendly fire.  The bodies we ran over and around
had been nearly pulped into hamburger by the heavy slugs from the miniguns and
I was glad we were running on the rough gravel that made up the road bed for
the rail tracks.  There was so much blood and other bodily fluids leaking out
of the shattered remains that if this had been on a hard surface like asphalt
we would have had a difficult time with our footing.

 I was estimating we had less than half a mile to go to
reach the bridge when I realized I was suddenly seeing farther through the
fog.  The sun had been up for over an hour and was starting to burn it off. 
With the fog thinning we were able to get a better idea of how many infected
stood between us and the bridge, and I heard Jackson mutter a curse that
matched my own thoughts.  A nearly solid wall of infected humanity seethed in
front of us.  Without the fire support from above we’d be so hopelessly
outnumbered that none of us would make it.  The fog continued to thin out,
visibility improving by the minute and soon we were able to see a ghostly
outline of the bridge’s steel girders in the distance. 

“Jackson, get those Hummers up to the entrance to the bridge
so they can start clearing it.” 

Jackson made the call and soon the two heavy vehicles passed
us on the left, smashing through and over infected as they moved.  Their
machine guns were silent at the moment, gunners conserving their ammo for the
work they would have to do once they reached the bridge.  The bridge.  It was
built for trains, not vehicles.

“Jackson, does the bridge have a solid deck with tracks on it,
or just rails over girders?  Are the vehicles going to be able to drive
across?  Are these people going to be able to cross it on foot?”

Jackson looked at me with a surprised expression on his
face.  “Shit, Major.  I don’t know if anyone ever checked that out since the
plan was to cross on the train.”

“Call the Colonel.  See if he knows.”  Jackson nodded and
started speaking into the radio, Rachel and I both firing on infected that had
made it through the withering minigun fire and were charging us.  “He doesn’t
know either, Major.”  Well didn’t that just fucking figure. 

“OK, have one of the Humvees check it out when they get
there and let us know.”  I didn’t know what good the information would do us at
this point, but I sure as hell wanted to know what was ahead.

The visibility had improved dramatically in just the last
couple of minutes and I could now see the three Black Hawks that were on
station above us providing fire support.  The bridge was also clearly visible, sunlight
shining brightly on the steel beams, and I could see the Hummers push through
the back of the ranks of the infected and arrive at the bridge which was now less
than a quarter of a mile away.  I could see their machine guns begin firing,
clearing pockets of infected that were too close to the bridge, then saw one of
the drivers hop out and trot a short distance onto the bridge.  We kept
running, waiting for his report.  While we ran a couple of Apaches swooped into
hover behind us and opened up with their chain guns.  They were firing on the
solid mass of infected that were pursuing us, creating a buffer zone so we had
some breathing room as we came up to the river.

“We’ve got solid bridge deck about a third of the way across
the river then it changes to just girders supporting the rails.”  Jackson had
to shout for me to hear him over all of the ordnance going off around us.  A
battlefield is a very noisy place.

“Are the girders close enough together for us to cross?”  I
shouted back, already wondering how the hell we were going to get Max in his
wheelchair across.

“He’s checking.”  We kept up our pace and a minute later
Jackson shouted back, “He says they’re about four and a half feet apart.” 
Shit.  Max was a problem and so was Dog, not to mention the people with small
children.  Most of the people, for that matter.  Leaping from girder to girder
across four to five feet of open space with a river flowing 65 feet below.  The
girders would be slick with moisture from the fog that had just lifted and
there was also probably about 75 years’ worth of bird shit crusted on them. 
Footing would be difficult for a young, agile athlete.  Ninety five percent of
these people wouldn’t make it, and the group would slow down so much as they
tried that if they didn’t slip and fall into the river then the infected would
overwhelm our rear guard and tear them apart.  Son of a bitch!

“Jackson, this isn’t going to work.”  I shouted.  “These
people can’t make those leaps.  We’ll lose damn near everyone, either to the
river or to the infected.”

“Agreed.  Got any ideas?”  He shouted back after dispatching
a charging female.

“We’ve got to use the rails somehow.  The locomotives looked
like they were still on the tracks when we passed them, as well as maybe half a
dozen cars behind them before the derailment started.  Do you know how to drive
one of those things?”

“Hell, Major, today was the first time in my life I’ve ever even
been on a train.  I’ve got no clue how they work.”

“I can!”  Neither Jackson nor I could have been more
surprised that it was Rachel that spoke up.  She was running behind us, tucked
in close enough to hear our conversation.  I nearly tripped as I kept my head
turned to look at her a moment too long.

“I can drive one.  My Dad was an engineer for BNSF when I
was a little girl and I used to spend my summers on the train with him before
he died.  Trust me.  I used to drive all the time when I was with him.”  I
didn’t have time to think about it, just had to make the decision. 

“Jackson, tell the Colonel we need a chopper down here now. 
The three of us need a ride back to the train.”  Jackson looked at me with big
eyes for a moment before placing a call on the radio.

While he was talking to the Colonel I looked around and
spotted Max’s youngest boy.  I called out to him and told him I needed him to
watch out for Dog while I was busy.  He nodded and reached out to pet Dog on
the head as I firmly told Dog to stay with him.  I’ve had dogs all of my life
and I’ve never stopped being amazed at how much of what I say to them is really
understood.  Dog was no exception, giving me a look to rival any human, a look
that said “are you fucking nuts?”

“Ride’s on the way,” Jackson shouted over the roar of the
Apache chain guns.  “Evacuees are going to continue out onto the bridge so the
Hummers and Bradley can set up a barrier to protect them while they wait for
us.  There’s a Black Hawk and Apache on the far side of the bridge to make sure
no infected come across.”

I nodded, looking up as the hovering Black Hawks that were
providing air support started shifting positions to make room for another one
to come pick us up.  “How many people do you think are left?”  I asked.

Jackson and Rachel looked around at the flood of evacuees
that were streaming around us.  I looked away from the descending helicopter and
spotted Dog’s furry tail as he ran with Max’s son.  I made a mental note to
learn the kid’s name. 

“Less than half.  Maybe even only a third.”  Jackson shouted
back.

“We should be able to get everyone that’s left on and in a
few cars.  Right?” Rachel spoke up.

“Sure as hell hope so.”  I said, stepping forward and
grabbing the thick, weighted rope that had been pushed out of the hovering
Black Hawk.  Jackson stepped up on the other side and put a boot into one of
the loops woven into the rope, and I did the same from my side.  Waving Rachel
forward I helped her get a foot into a loop then put both her hands onto the
rope at chest height.

“Oh, shit.  We’re not really going up, are we?”  She looked
more afraid than I’d ever seen her and her knuckles were white as she gripped
the rope for all she was worth.

“Yep, we are.  Don’t let go.”  I said with a grin as Jackson
and I circled our arms around her back and grabbed the rope to lock her in
place.  I twirled my free arm in the air.  Rachel screamed like she was riding
a roller coaster as we were lifted into the air faster than any elevator she’d
ever been on.

The pilot was good, and a second later we were fifty feet
straight up before he slowly transitioned to forward flight back down the
tracks toward the abandoned train.  Jackson and I extended our free arms, which
to a small degree acted like wings and stabilized us as we moved through the
air at the end of the rope.  This kept us from spinning as we flew, and I was
able to get a bird’s eye view of the infected below my boots.

The crush of bodies reminded me of Murfreesboro.  There were
thousands, if not tens of thousands.  The only reference point I could think of
to use was remembering attending NFL games and seeing the sea of tightly packed
fans that numbered in the range of 70,000.  I tried to imagine all those people
on the ground instead of stadium seats, jammed as tightly together as possible. 
Picturing that, I revised my estimate to hundreds of thousands. 

There were infected as far as I could see in every
direction.  The train tracks cut through an industrial area, very much like the
warehouse district we’d fought through back in Nashville, and the wide streets
and alleys were full beyond capacity with teeming bodies.  As we transited over
the herd I said a little prayer to the gods of war that our rope was strong and
in good condition.  The fall wouldn’t kill us, but the reception committee would
make sure we didn’t walk away.

“We’re going to have to uncouple at the point where the
first car is derailed,” I shouted so both Rachel and Jackson could hear me. 
“How do we do that?”

“There’s a lever on the coupler.  Pull the lever when
there’s not a lot of pressure on the coupler, then pull up on the pin in the
center of the coupler and the cars will separate when the train starts
moving.”  Rachel shouted back, eyes looking straight ahead so she didn’t have
to see the ground passing beneath her feet.

“Don’t suppose there’s any way to do this without going down
there where all our friends are waiting, is there?”  Jackson asked with a heavy
dose of sarcasm.  Rachel looked at him and shook her head.  By this time we had
reached the lead locomotive and the pilot brought us to a hover, maintaining
our altitude. 

There was a total of four locomotives, the three behind the
lead all facing the opposite direction.  Looking back down the track I could
see seven cattle cars that were immediately behind the locomotives that were
still sitting on the rails.  Behind them the first car that had derailed was a
passenger car with a higher profile than the cattle cars.  Stretching beyond
that car for as far as I could see was a jumble of cars of all type that had
jumped the rails, some of them upright, others on their side.

I looked up at the belly of the Black Hawk and saw a
crewman’s head sticking out the side door watching us.  With his helmet and
bulbous, tinted visor he looked like a giant insect.  I twirled my arm again
and a second later he flashed a thumbs up, then we were descending.  Jackson
and I were ready, having been on this amusement park ride before, but Rachel
let loose with a loud squeal of surprise when we descended fast enough to
momentarily leave our stomachs behind.

A couple of seconds later our boots hit the roof of the lead
locomotive and Rachel lost her balance and would have gone down if Jackson and
I hadn’t still had our arms linked behind her.  We stepped out of the loops and
helped Rachel clear the rope, making sure she had her balance and wasn’t going
to topple over as soon as we let go of her. 

“Let’s get her in the cab, then we’re going to go push that
lever.”  I said to Jackson.

“How will we let her know when it’s done?”  He asked.

Shit.  A not so minor detail I had overlooked.

“Call up and see if they’ve got a spare radio they can toss
down.”  I said, gesturing at the Black Hawk that was still hovering.  All
around, the mass of infected seethed, screams clearly audible even over the
noise of the helicopter.  We needed to move quickly, before they started piling
up along the sides of the locomotive and cutting off our access into the
control cab.

“Heads up!”  Jackson shouted over the commotion.  I looked
up to see an object just leaving the hand of the crewman leaning out the
aircraft’s side door.  Jackson tracked it with his eyes, adjusting his position
on the locomotive roof to be ready to catch the handheld radio, but he moved
too close to the edge and leaned too far out as he snatched it out of the air. 
He overbalanced and would have fallen into the waiting hands below if I hadn’t
grabbed his vest and yanked him back to the center of the roof after he caught
the radio.

“Thanks.”  He said, setting the frequency on the radio and
handing it to Rachel.  “Know how to use this?”

“Push to talk.  Don’t push to listen.  Right?”  Jackson
nodded and we moved to the front edge of the roof and looked down.  There was a
narrow catwalk that ran along the side and around the front of the cab, a large
door on the left and a much smaller door on the right.  For the moment the
catwalk was clear but the infected were swiftly piling up and would soon cut
off access to the interior of the locomotive. 

Rachel sat down with her legs dangling over the edge of the
roof and held both hands up for help.  Jackson grabbed her hands and she
slipped off the roof, turning in the air so she was facing the locomotive as
Jackson squatted until her boots were only a couple of feet above the catwalk. 
He let go and she landed gracefully then disappeared inside the cab, heavy
steel door slamming loudly behind her. 

I hadn’t noticed the muted rumble of the idling diesel
engine while we were standing on the roof, but almost as soon as Rachel got
into the cab the engines in all four locomotives rumbled loudly and the roof
under my feet moved backwards a few inches with a soft jerk.

“That should have taken the pressure off the coupler.” 
Rachel called on the radio.

“Hell of a woman you’ve got there, Major.”  Jackson smiled
at me then turned and headed back down the train.

“Yes, she is.”  I mumbled to myself and followed his broad
back.