“So the Illuminati are gunning for us? Makes sense if they’re the ones who sold the country to the Chinese. We messed that up for them, and I’d imagine the Chinese aren’t happy.”
“Makes you wonder how many of the big gangs they’re influencing, doesn’t it?” Art mused.
“Probably most. But it won’t help them.”
“Not if they all fold up at the first sign of a fight like these punks did.”
“We can’t assume gangs like the Crew are going to be easy to overthrow.”
“Oh, I know. I’m just saying that the smaller gangs are nothing more than prison rabble with guns. Not a lot of art to mowing them down with a disciplined force, as you’ve seen.”
“True. But we’re eventually going to run up against someone who fights back for real.”
“No question. That’s why I have all the squad leaders training the men – most are up to speed, but we saw in this fight that some lose it under fire. That’s got to change, or they’re liabilities.”
“Agreed. Does it look like we’ll be able to fully replenish our ammo stores?”
Art nodded. “And then some. We’re actually going to walk away with about forty percent more rounds than we walked in with. It’s turning out well to go up against enemies that don’t actually shoot.”
“I’m afraid we can’t depend on that moving forward.”
“I know. We got lucky with the train breaking down. Otherwise it might have gone differently in the valley. I’m not stupid.”
“You’re anything but dumb,” Lucas agreed.
“So the plan is for you to head to Utah with half our fighters, I sit here filing my nails until the train gets back, and then we haul everyone else in one load?”
“That’s it. We’ll have more confidence in the locomotive after making the trip, and if it can tow more cars, we’ll do it. But one way or another, everyone who can fit should.”
“What about those who want to stay in Salem? Or the rest of the bunch from Astoria?”
“I’ll leave it to you to talk sense into them. Once we pull out, they’re essentially defenseless, so if more miscreants decide they want some easy pickings, they’re going to be in the crosshairs. Wouldn’t be a smart move to stay.”
Art grimaced. “You know how the Astoria group can be.”
“If they absolutely insist on staying put, leave them enough weapons and ammo to mount a good fight, and wish them well. They’re adults.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Hopefully that’ll be enough.”
Lucas and Sam spent the day selecting armaments and gear for the trip, and by evening had the boxcars filled and the horses waiting patiently for Clark to show himself. The train still had plenty of coal from the stocks the gang had brought from Sacramento, and the only concern was water for the boiler en route, but Lucas was sure they’d be able to source enough from the myriad streams and rivers they would cross to make the journey without issue – it would be backbreaking labor hauling thousands of gallons in five-gallon containers, but it was necessary and not as bad as it sounded with thousands of helping hands aboard.
Clark appeared as maroon and violet were painting the darkening sky, and Lucas pulled him aside to explain what was expected of him. When he finished, Clark eyed him with a frown.
“It’ll take more than four coins to get me to run this all the way back here from Utah and do it all over again.”
“Call it eight, then.”
“I’m thinking twelve. Got to get paid for the return trip. I don’t work for free.”
“Call it ten. The return has less risk with an empty train. Although you’ll need some gunmen for security.”
“You drive a hard bargain. Let’s say eleven and get going.”
Lucas sighed. “Done.”
Clark instructed the men on how to attach more cars, and then jockeyed the locomotive back and forth over multiple tracks to accommodate the new configuration. When they were hooked up, the men climbed aboard, and by ten o’clock at night the train pulled out of the yard, loaded to the brim with fighters and gear.
“You know the route we’re going to take?” Lucas asked as the engine eased forward.
“Got a decent idea. Down by Redding, and then across to Reno. From there you don’t have a lot of choices to get to Salt Lake.”
“We’re actually headed to Provo. South of Salt Lake.”
“Tracks run there, so not a problem.”
“You keep all that up here?” Lucas asked, tapping his forehead.
“There aren’t that many routes, to be honest. But yes. I can visualize the route map. Remember, this has been my passion for thirty years.”
“Fair enough. I’m just a little amazed by it.”
“We all got skills.”
“True.”
The train picked up speed, and Clark capped their progress at twenty miles per hour, with the pressure at seventy-eight percent.
“Let’s see how she holds up doing twenty. If no problem, this should be a cakewalk.”
“How long will it take to get to Provo?”
“Four days at least, provided no gotchas. Probably more. We’ve got to onload water, and that’ll take a while, although hopefully we can time it around nightfall so we don’t burn through running time. We can’t really operate at night once we’re on the Redding to Salt Lake stretch – we have no idea what the condition of the tracks is.”
“Sounds like a long four days.”
“Be five or six times that on horseback. Ten times more on foot.”
“Good point.”
Clark patted the metal housing in front of him with a calloused hand. “Don’t know if you’re a God-fearing man, but a little prayer never hurt anything.”
Lucas touched his hat brim. “I’ll pass the word along.”
“Can’t hurt.”
Chapter 39
Provo, Utah
Elijah and Benjamin studied the barrier that blocked the highway into Provo through their binoculars, noting at least two hundred gunmen lining walls on either side, with four heavy machine guns trained on them from behind sandbagged positions. Elijah’s army waited five hundred yards behind them, where it had encamped in the dead of night after being led to the city limits by Leo and his trackers.
Benjamin eyed the machine guns and murmured to Elijah, “Those can fire a thousand rounds a minute. Even at this range they’d cut us to pieces. Serious business. We might want to reconsider a frontal approach.”
“We’re out in the open now and have nothing to fear. Our fight isn’t with these people. It’s with the scum hiding behind their walls.”
“If they’re allowing them to stay, we might be talking about a major fight. They look like they know what they’re doing.”
“The Lord will guide us to victory, just as He has in every battle so far.”
“That was against disorganized amateurs. Look at their weapons. The machine guns. They may also have grenades. This is a whole different level of defense than Colorado Springs or Pueblo.”
“We have nothing to fear. We’re doing God’s work.”
Benjamin shook his head. “I have yet to see God stop a bullet.”
Elijah turned to glower at Benjamin. “Do you doubt my word?”
“It’s not that. We don’t want to lose hundreds of men trying to rush a heavily defended access point if we can help it, regardless of how righteous our cause is.”
Elijah nodded as though agreeing, but his eyes burned with zeal, telling Benjamin that he hadn’t registered a word.
“We’ll deliver an ultimatum. Give up the garbage from Shangri-La or face the consequences.”
An advance scouting team had taken a young man from Provo prisoner at dawn as he was walking outside the wall that encircled the city, equipped with a slingshot and crossbow to hunt rabbits in the early hours. He’d immediately told his interrogators about the new arrivals the community had taken in, his fear so great he was trembling during the entire question
ing. Once word reached Elijah that his targets were within the city walls, he’d become animated and insisted that Benjamin accompany him to demand the citizenry turn the members of Shangri-La over to him or else.
“They might not be receptive to being threatened with death if they don’t comply,” Benjamin said.
“I don’t make threats. I predict the future.” Elijah looked over his shoulder. “We have thousands of men. There’s no way they can resist us.”
“Maybe. But they don’t look too worried to me. I’m wondering what else they’ve got behind that wall.”
“We’ll ride to their gate and tell them why we’re here. God will decide the rest.”
Benjamin thought that sounded like a fine way to get shot, but he held his tongue. Elijah had grown increasingly erratic on the trail, and Benjamin didn’t trust the man not to lash out rashly if he said the wrong thing.
Elijah raised his rifle over his head in a salute to his troops, and then urged his horse forward, leaving Benjamin to follow in his wake as he rode toward the barrier. They approached at a gallop and slowed as they neared, and when they were close enough to be heard, Elijah reined to a halt in a cloud of dust.
“I am Elijah! I am the Lord’s prophet, sent by Him to smite His enemies wherever they are found.”
The men at the wall remained silent, apparently unimpressed by the bombastic oratory.
Elijah tried again. “We are on a divine mission from God, in search of a den of murderers and blasphemers who you’ve taken under your wing – I assume because you know nothing of their heinous deeds. I’m here to ask you to turn them over to us for justice, or be branded with the same curse they are, subject to the same fate.”
Benjamin cringed inwardly at the delusional threat in the face of enough firepower to vaporize them both.
“You have in your midst evil of the foulest sort,” Elijah continued. “The people of a place they called Shangri-La murdered my father, who was another divine prophet. I’m here to make them pay for their crime.”
A voice called from the wall, the speaker sensibly wearing a heavy flak vest and a war-surplus helmet.
“Elijah, is it? My name’s Thomas. I represent the people of Provo, as well as our militia, who are sworn to defend the city and everyone in it. We’re a God-fearing community and don’t take kindly to self-proclaimed prophets showing up at our gates with an army to make threats. So consider this your only warning. You try to do anything besides leave and we’ll cut you to ribbons. I don’t care how many men you have – we’ve got more ammo than you’ve got bodies, and you’ll die where you stand if you don’t go back wherever you came from and leave us in peace.”
Elijah digested the warning and raised his rifle over his head again while he shouted at Thomas, “We have a bioweapon that will expose everyone in your city to a deadly nerve agent if you don’t do as I ask. You’ve been warned. If the members of Shangri-La aren’t turned over to us within twenty-four hours, we’ll detonate that weapon, and you’ll all pay the ultimate price for harboring the forces of darkness. Your guns won’t do you any good. I don’t want to slaughter everyone, but I will if you don’t do as I say.” He paused dramatically. “I am Elijah, the sword of God, and you will obey or be smitten!”
Elijah spun his horse around, nearly colliding with Benjamin, and spurred the beast back toward the encampment, with Benjamin riding hard on his tail, fearful of a bullet in his spine at any moment.
Thomas watched Elijah and his man ride away and retreated from the barricade to where Elliot was waiting by a group of militia equipped with grenade launchers and assault rifles.
“What do you make of that?” he asked.
“The man’s out of his mind. He sent his people to kidnap one of our children who his father was convinced was foiling his plans for the final apocalypse, and his father, who ran the cult in Denver he’s taken over, was killed when we rescued her. Now he’s decided he’s on some sort of crusade.” Elliot shook his head. “Completely delusional. Textbook case of paranoid schizophrenia, I’d wager.”
“I meant the bioweapon threat.”
Elliot frowned. “I’m not sure what to make of it, frankly. On the one hand, does it make any sense that they’d have followed us halfway across the country carrying a bioweapon with them? Not to me. Then again, he’s clearly crazy, so we can’t assume anything based on logic. I’d put it at it being possible but highly unlikely.”
Thomas sighed in exasperation. “That’s my assessment, too. Whatever the case, this is a large area, and I don’t for a moment buy that he’s got some suitcase nuke, or whatever is the bioterror equivalent, that he’s going to release and which will only kill us. So I’ll go with bluff. But he’s got a substantial army there, and they might be able to do some serious damage to us, depending on how well equipped they are. If this goes to the wire, we’ve got to be prepared for an all-out onslaught.”
“If you’re having second thoughts about allowing us in, we can always leave. I’m sure there’s some way for us to sneak out during the night without being seen.”
Thomas shook his head. “No. We gave you our word and invited you in knowing the risks. I’m just amazed that he led that mob all the way from Colorado on foot to get even with you for killing his father. I mean, it’s…nuts.”
“Exactly. Which makes him dangerously unpredictable. You can’t reason with someone who believes themselves to be Joan of Arc. So we have to expect the worst.”
“I didn’t see any serious artillery with his group. Just men with rifles. You think he might have more he’s keeping out of sight?”
“No way of knowing. I think we have to assume he does.”
“Then it would make the most sense to bombard his position while his men sleep.”
“Which you won’t do. I understand that. You won’t attack unless attacked.”
Thomas sighed. “Correct. Even though they’re threatening us, we’re not going to fire the first shots. It’s not our way.”
“I could argue the wisdom of turning the other cheek against a madman, but I won’t.”
Thomas nodded. “I’m not saying we’ll turn the other cheek. Just wait for him to try to slap it, and then flatten him. We gave him fair warning. The next move is his.”
Elliot managed a sad smile. “I’m sorry it’s come to this. Honestly, you’d be completely within your rights if you wanted us to leave.”
“What kind of people would we be if we threw you to the wolves at the first hint of trouble? After all you’ve done for us? That’s not who we are. We’ll stand by you like family, and if anyone tries to harm you, it will be the last thing they ever do.”
Chapter 40
Wells, Nevada
The train slowed with a screech of wheels and rolled to a gentle stop at the top of a desert mountain pass, the landscape uninterrupted beige to the distant horizon. When Lucas was sure that the cars weren’t going to move again, he leapt from the entrance and trotted to the locomotive, rifle in hand.
“What’s going on?” he asked. Three days of travel and there had been no unpleasant surprises, and now, on the morning of the fourth, less than two hours into the trip, they were stopped?
Clark pointed ahead. “There’s something across the rails. Looks like logs and maybe an old car.”
“Why would anyone bother blocking the tracks? There hasn’t been a train on them for…forever.”
“Beats me. We can try blowing through it, but I’d hate to find out the hard way that they also rolled a boulder or something onto the rails. I suggest you assemble a crew and go drag the crap off.”
Lucas considered the area, slowly sweeping the surroundings with his binoculars, and seeing nothing of immediate concern, returned to the cars and called to the men. “We’ve got some junk on the tracks. I need a couple of hundred of you out here on the double!”
Terry and scores of men piled from the cars, and when Lucas was sure he had enough help, he led them past the locomotive to where the debris was piled. Cl
ark walked with him, and when they reached it, he scratched his head, perplexed.
“I don’t get it. Why would anyone go to all this trouble?”
Lucas shrugged. “Looks like it’s been here a while. Probably happened after the grid went down. Those days were crazy. People were doing all sorts of things to try to survive. Maybe some of the locals figured they could hijack a train that never came through?”
Clark nodded. “Probably right. That car’s seen better days.”
“True.” Lucas looked to his men. “All right. Let’s remove the logs first, and then we’ll shift the car out of the way.”
Terry set about organizing teams of workers, and in short order what turned out to be wooden telephone poles were being moved well clear of the tracks by groups of thirty men per pole. Lucas watched as they worked, and then Terry called from near the car.
“Lucas? You need to see this.”
Lucas walked over to Terry and stopped when he saw what he was pointing at. Nestled in the debris was a land mine.
“Looks like they were planning to derail whatever came through,” Terry said.
“Nice guys.” He called over to Clark, “Would a land mine blow a train off the tracks?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But it sure would destroy the rails, which would effectively do the same thing. Why? You got one there?”
“Yes.” He looked to Terry. “You ever disarm one of these?”
Terry looked uncertain. “They showed us how in basic, but that was a long time ago.”
“See if any of the men remember. If nobody here does, go back to the cars and ask.”
Terry did so, and hiked back to the train when it became obvious there were no takers on his challenge. He reappeared five minutes later with a pair of fighters, one short and muscled, the other lanky and tall as a basketball player.
The Day After Never - Legion (Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller - Book 8) Page 21