Transformation: Zombie Crusade VI (22 page)

“These things are beasts—what’s the range?” Luke asked again.

“I hear they can go about five hundred miles on a full tank, and if the roads were clear we could cruise at around 65 mph.”

“I want to take one of these to Vicksburg today. Do we have anybody with experience driving one of these monsters?”

“It’s not rocket science, dude. I drove one of ‘em over here myself.”

“I guess it can’t be too difficult then,” Luke teased dryly.

“I’ll take that as a ‘thank you, Zach – I don’t know how to express my gratitude so I’ll just be a dong-head.’ So you’re welcome. Now let’s get some breakfast; I’m starving.”

CHAPTER 18

The convoy to Vicksburg was ready to pull out about half an hour after dawn. Five Hummers and one Fox were being utilized for this mission; there was plenty of room for everybody. Sergeant Jenkins insisted on accompanying Luke and the boys on the journey, arguing that his mechanical expertise might be needed if breakdowns occurred—especially given the uniqueness of the newest addition to the small fleet that had ventured to Texarkana a few days earlier. If anything blocked the highway that the Hummers couldn’t move out of their path quickly, the Fox had more power than the SUVs combined. Gracie was convinced that her husband and his charges were in little danger on the road in such vehicles, but she still sent a handpicked squad of troops along. The soldiers were armed to the teeth; Luke didn’t expect any trouble either, but he wasn’t taking chances with the boys in tow.

The maps showed a distance of roughly two hundred and fifty miles to Vicksburg, so even if the convoy could only average thirty miles an hour, the journey would be completed before nightfall. They needn’t have worried; while the road to Shreveport was filled with the usual assortment of wrecks and blockages that slowed their progress more than Luke and Sergeant Jenkins would have liked, from Shreveport to Monroe one lane of the interstate had been cleared. A roadblock on the western edge of Monroe was manned by troops familiar with the already-legendary Luke Seifert; they’d fought with him at the Battle of Vicksburg. They waved Luke and everyone with him through their territory, after telling him that they had recently cleared the highway all the way to the Mississippi. An hour and half later, the convoy reached the edge of Vicksburg-controlled territory.

Luke was riding shotgun in the lead Hummer, and the group from Texarkana rode in the Fox directly behind him. When the small convoy reached the post guarding the road on the Louisiana side of the bridge, Luke stepped out into the cold, mid-day sunlight. He shook his head and sighed in exasperation when he saw that one of the men on duty had been a vocal member of the group demanding that Luke leave the fortress just weeks earlier. The guard immediately recognized the tall, young officer in the mirrored sunglasses. He tightened his grip on the shotgun he was armed with. “Mr. Seifert, I have no idea what you’re doin’ here, but you need to turn this here convoy ‘round and git.”

Luke was hungry and tired of sitting all morning. “It’s Captain Seifert, and before you even consider giving me another order, you need to go into your guard-house and call Captain Harden. Tell him that I’m out here and want to see him.”

A second man had exited the building, also carrying a shotgun at the ready. “You need to do what Sammy just told you to do, son; turn them trucks away from our town.”

Luke tried one more time. “Just tell Harden I need to see him.”

The man called Sammy started to raise his weapon, and while Luke was sure the guards wouldn’t shoot him, he was still glad that Billy and his students were tucked away in the Fox, blissfully unaware of the rude reception they’d received at the gate of their new home. He decided that he’d endured enough disrespect from the people he’d almost died fighting to protect. Before he had a chance to even consider a reaction to Luke’s move, Sammy was on the ground gasping for breath. A split second later, his partner was lying next to him, and their shotguns were cradled in Luke’s arms as he gazed sternly at the two. “If I wanted to hurt you or the people in this town I wouldn’t ask permission to enter with the force I have in these vehicles!” he shouted at the gasping guards.

One of Gracie’s men was out of his Hummer with his own shotgun in hand. Luke nodded at the trusty sergeant. “Cover these two while I call their commander.”

The small building had a surplus military phone connected to city headquarters, where Captain Harden was alerted by a secretary who received Luke’s call. The tough, capable officer was on the scene in less than five minutes. He jumped from his truck and shook Luke’s hand as he yelled at his two subordinates. “Boys, you damn well know how I feel about Captain Seifert: he will always be welcome in Vicksburg! You two can forget about guard duty for the foreseeable future—you’ll be cleaning out the latrines and working trash collection until further notice.” He turned back to Luke. “What brings you here in such fine style?”

Luke feigned a cough and covered his mouth in an attempt to conceal how much he enjoyed watching Harden dress down the insolent guards. He cleared his throat, and, with only a slight smile remaining, responded to the Captain’s question, “I brought you a present, and I need a favor.”

Harden laughed. “So, you’re gonna give me a ‘gift’ and then I have to give you a ‘favor’—sounds like Let’s Make a Deal.”

Luke shrugged. “It’s not like that; you’d do the favor regardless, I know you. The gift is for the whole town—might come in handy for someone someday.”

“You always were a sort of cryptic fella; so what’s the present?”

Luke tipped his head in the direction of the convoy. “Second vehicle in the line; it’s armored and amphibious—”

Harden whistled in appreciation. “I know what it is, son. It’s a Fox. So what’s the favor?”

“I have some refugees from Texarkana who need a new home—some special needs kids, their teacher, and a couple new recruits of mine.”

“That won’t be a problem; I’m happy to oblige.” Harden took off his hat and scratched his head. “So you’re recruiting soldiers now?”

Luke smiled and removed his sunglasses. “They fight for me, but we’re all a part of the Allied Resistance.”

“Speaking of the Allied Resistance, did you know your daddy’s down here?”

Luke’s first thought was to remind Harden that his dad was dead, but in a flash he realized his friend was referring to Jack. A thousand thoughts rushed into Luke’s mind, but he asked the question that had been a source of worry since he’d left Vicksburg. “So everything went well up north?”

Harden looked away. “Not well, but it could have been worse. A lot worse; most folks survived.”

“Most?” Luke almost choked on the word. At least he knew Jack was alive, but a knot began to tighten in his stomach at the thought of others who might not have been so lucky.

Harden gently slapped his young friend on the shoulder. “Follow me into town and I’ll let Jack fill you in on the details. I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate you being here and him not knowing about it.”

Jack was sitting in Charlotte’s kitchen, greedily consuming roast beef and mashed potatoes.

“It’s good to see you finally eating something with enthusiasm; you’ve been eatin’ like a bird for the past three days, ever since you guys got here from that Canadian island,” Charlotte observed. “My kitchen needs your appetite to pick up.”

Jack stared at her blankly.

“Nobody knows what to do for you, so they just keep bringing me food. I think T.C. told everybody you’re stayin’ here so he can help you eat up the condolences.”

Jack grimaced. “I don’t like people thinking I’m some sort of sad-sack recluse who needs food and condolences.”

Charlotte filled Jack’s water glass and gently smacked the back of his head. “Don’t be a jerk; people are just tryin’ to express that they care, that you’re important around here. Besides, everybody has lost somebody close, and we all know the hurt. Think of it as our way of lettin’ you know that we’re a team, though it wouldn’t be the end of the world if you were a sad-sack recluse for a while.”

Jack made eye contact with Charlotte. “Is that what you did?”

Charlotte laughed. “Hell no, but I’m a people person. You’ve always been sorta aloof—Mr. Professor who lived in a castle with my redneck brother and made crazy medieval weapons—”

“Nobody thinks they’re crazy now—”

“True, but nobody who knew you ever expected you to find a woman you’d want to marry either, at least not until you were like 70. And you didn’t even know you had a son.” The expression on Jack’s face melted Charlotte’s heart. She sat down next to him and picked up his hand. “You know I’m just giving you a hard time because that’s how us Wilsons, and former Wilsons, let people know we care. You may have missed out on a few years with Luke, but you have him now, and he’s amazing. I remember when we all thought he was gonna die; I was here when he woke up.” She squeezed Jack’s hand. “For God’s sake, he survived a bite—and he survived all the folks around here who didn’t know what to make of his hunter eyes . . . he’s a one of a kind, Jack. Just like his daddy.”

Jack reached up with his free hand and lightly brushed Charlotte’s hair off her forehead. “How is it you and Carter can have such a strong family resemblance, but you look like an angel and he’s somewhere between a skinny Hulk Hogan and the scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz?”

Charlotte felt a familiar flutter and leaned away from Jack. “We both know I’m no angel, and you’ve always known that I got all the good looks in my family.” She let go of his hand and distractedly ran her fingers through her hair. She looked at Jack sideways and sighed. “We’ve always had good chemistry, Mr. Smith. I never want that to screw up our friendship.”

“It never has—” Jack began, but he was interrupted when the door to the cabin flew open, followed by sixteen-year-old T.C. shouting, “Mom! Jack! You’re not gonna believe it—Luke’s here!”

“What do you think?” Maddy asked Zach and Gracie as they stood shivering beneath snow flurries.

“I think,” Gracie declared as she ran an appreciative hand over one of the tracks, “that this is the most beautiful piece of machinery I’ve ever seen.”

“What the heck is it?” Zach demanded. “I mean, it looks like a tank mated with a bulldozer.”

“That’s pretty much what this is, dummy,” Maddy jibed. “This, is a Caterpillar D9R armored bulldozer; made in America, perfected by the Israelis, then sold back to the US Army.”

“How many are here?” Gracie asked.

Maddy shook her head with mock sadness. “We’ve found four, but we can probably take just two with us. They need a special truck to be transported on, and my guys only found two of those.”

“My guess,” Zach offered, “is that even hauling two of these around the country will be difficult enough.”

Maddy sighed. “You’re right about that, but can you imagine what these monsters could do to a packed horde?”

“Look like they could crush anything in their path.” Gracie grinned mischievously. “They look like they could roll right through the White House if they wanted to.”

“One of your mechs found these,” Maddy explained. “He saw one in action once, said he’s sure they’d just keep rolling over the infected, no matter how many there were in the way.”

“I believe it,” Zach fawned over the impressive machine. “I want this one.”

“Nice try, Lieutenant Kinstler,” Gracie replied. “These will belong to headquarters company, not you and your infantry grunts.”

Zach made a frustrated noise in response, before Maddy patted him on the back. “Don’t worry little buddy, next Walmart we come to I’ll find you a Matchbox dozer so you can still get to play . . .”

A generously-sized log structure had been built to function as the main public meeting house on the western side of the settlement. When Captain Harden suddenly stopped talking, Luke looked up from the cup of coffee he was nursing, past the table where Jenkins, Bill, and the students were mingling with the locals. Standing in the doorway was Jack Smith, his biological father. Luke unconsciously rose to his feet. Jack smiled and quickly crossed the room to his son, wrapping his powerful arms around the teenager and nearly crushing him in an embrace.

Luke didn’t trust himself to speak right away. He had no trouble keeping his composure in the heat of battle, and he’d even managed to feel at ease when addressing large groups of people lately, but something about coming face-to-face with the man he now knew to be his father made him feel oddly child-like and vulnerable. He wanted Jack to understand him and be proud of him, and he was worried about how his transformation might change things between them.

Jack pulled back but kept his hands on Luke’s shoulders. “It’s good to see you,” he said quietly. “And you can take off those glasses; I’ve heard all about your hunter-eyes.”

“Hearing isn’t seeing.” Luke removed the glasses and gave what he hoped was a piercing glare.

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to be scary? Looks to me like maybe you’re constipated.”

Luke relaxed and laughed in spite of himself. “I would have expected that kind of high class reaction from Carter, but not Professor Smith.”

Captain Harden motioned for his friends to sit down. “I think you two have some catching up to do—”

Luke cut in as he pulled up a chair, “Tell me about Fort Wayne—what happened?”

“I’ll leave you two to talk things through,” Harden said with a nod towards the new arrivals. “I think I need to get to know our friends from Texarkana.”

As soon as they were alone, Jack stared at Luke for a long moment. Something in his father’s expression told Luke that he was struggling with how to share something truly awful, so the young man waited quietly as the butterflies multiplied in his stomach.