“Clora is bleeding,” I announced. “We’ve got to hurry this along.”
“Clora is bleeding?” Craig snapped. “Can’t Ignatius do anything?”
“He’s doing the best he can,” I murmured to Craig. Someone liked someone else. I kind of liked that. I hadn’t noticed it before. Craig was particularly solicitous of Clora. That was a good thing.
Just before I climbed down from the engine, I asked Craig, “Can you plow through those cars?”
Craig looked forward. “Yes, but.” He said it all together as if it were one word. “Yesbut.”
I waited for the but.
“The cattle catcher should take care of business,” Craig said, “but if anything damages the engine, then we’re SOL. You know what I mean.”
“Stuff out of luck?”
“Not the word I would have used.”
I hopped on the ground, thinking about how much time Clora had. I put my sword in the scabbard on my back. It wouldn’t be hard to pull it out again.
Craig had brought the engine and the train to a stop about a hundred yards away from the blockage. It would have been nice if it was a Hollywood movie where we just plowed through the big pile of now-useless vehicles and sprinted for the spot where we would leave the train, to go to the one on the other side of Omaha. Would have, should have, could have.
I got about halfway there before someone shouted stop.
A large man came around the pile and stared at me. He held a torch, and he held it high to take a good long gander at me.
I wanted him to look at me. It was time that I needed for the firefly pixies to do whatever it was that they hadn’t had the time to explain to me. That, and if a dairy cow would get all happy and jump over the moon.
The large man studied me, sizing up the opposition. He was a big fellow, over six feet and more than a little bit of change. If he had been standing next to me, he would have towered over me, and looked down at me. He had a full beard that hadn’t been cut since the change and probably sometime before that. His eyes were nearly black in the flickering shadows caused by the torch. He was wearing a shirt made of what looked like homespun material and a large gold cross. I would have sighed, but I didn’t want him to know I was getting frustrated.
What, a loom isn’t technology? Where does one decide to draw the line? A steam train = badness and wrath of God. A loom and/or block and tackle = not so much. A very pregnant, bleeding woman who was likely going to vanish if I didn’t get this show on the road = blistering migraine and intense load of guilt for years to come.
“My name is Sophie,” I called.
“And I’m Asher,” the big man called back. His tone was neutral, but his expression was annoyed. “I don’t deal with women. Send over the one in charge.” He meant the one with the testicles, but I didn’t point that out.
“I’m in charge,” I said. There was a little frog in my throat. I wasn’t used to saying the words. But I was in charge. This was my safari, and things needed to happen before we got along to the big game hunt.
Asher laughed. He was around thirty-five and in the prime of his life, although he had a little bit of a gut, as if he hadn’t been doing his fair share of crunches. But hey, I wouldn’t do a crunch to save my life, so I couldn’t criticize.
“We need to get past,” I said. “We have a medical emergency.”
Asher didn’t question me. He simply said, “Then you need to pray, sister.”
Guessing that was a preliminary salvo to a rant about the evils of everything Asher didn’t believe in, I looked past him. There were others, waiting for the confrontation to occur. Mostly they were men, younger men with hungry expressions. They wanted to understand what had happened. They thought they found someone who could explain the twisted new reality to them and bring calmness to their souls. Realistically, I could have said, “That ain’t happening, buds,” but I didn’t say that.
“Asher,” I said, “I get the whole thing about controlling your world. In fact, I really do understand it because there is nothing I would like better than to control every aspect of my world. I would like to have my parents back. I would like to go back to the point in time where I didn’t know how to automatically use a broadsword, and I didn’t know how to kill someone with a simple cut. I’d like to go back to a point where I didn’t have to kill a man who thought he was entitled to take other sentient beings and subjugate them. I really would. But I don’t have that luxury and neither do you.”
I paused for breath, and Asher took that as a sign that he was supposed to speak.
I cut him off mid-word. “I’m not done, Asher.” The firefly pixies abruptly began circling my head, and his eyes went to them. There was a little astonishment there. Somewhere, somehow, his philosophy didn’t include factoring in the new animals. I didn’t think any of these people had the special connections, likely because Asher had weeded them out.
The growly expression on his face should have scared me, but I was tired, hurting, and frightened for Clora.
“You’re just a child,” Asher pronounced, and I could tell he’d been working on his big-man voice. “You should be kneeling on the ground behind the men, waiting for them to tell you what to do.”
I glanced at the few women I saw hiding in the shadows. Their faces were grim and tired. Tremendous. More passengers.
“Okay then,” I said. I slowly panned the area. Asher had nine people there. Seven were men. Two were women. The women didn’t look very happy either. “I’ll give you a choice. You can take your block and tackle and move your crappy cars, or we’ll do it for you, and you can watch from the ground. Your preference. Make it snappy.”
Asher looked around me. “You and what Army?” he laughed. He approached me with a slow, measured gait, certain that I was no threat to him. I knew that my arrogance might be my undoing one day, but it wasn’t going to be today with this man.
I was sure that Lulu was somewhere with a knife. Hetta was back there somewhere with a crossbow. I had seen her earlier on the train. Craig and Stephen probably had something up their sleeves. I didn’t know about Tyree, but someone would have to be stupid not to have a weapon when they were all alone in the new world. He was tentative, but I didn’t think he was stupid. The firefly pixies flew with their tiny clubbed hands on the end of the silver toothpicks ready to charge Goliath at a moment’s notice.
But I didn’t need them.
Asher stepped close to me and loomed over me, just as I thought he would. He used his greater height and bulk to try to intimidate me. There was an appropriate Tarzan/Jane joke to be used at the moment, but I didn’t go there.
I don’t remember unsheathing the Japanese broadsword. In an isolated moment I was without weapon, seemingly harmless, almost a foot less in height and half his weight. In the next second, I was moving, ignoring the pain of my collarbone. One foot stepped slightly ahead, my shoulders squared to make the appropriate slashing hit. I was balanced evenly so that I could go in any direction I needed to go. Slice. Asher didn’t even have an instant to move or to say anything pithy. Slice. The deadly steal glittered in the torchlight as it passed from one side to the other, leaving a silver blur. Slice. It was as beautiful and deadly a sight as I’ve ever seen. Slice. The elegant swishing noise of the sword as it relocated itself came a half-tic after the movement. Slice. Then there was the gasp of several people from behind Asher. Slice.
I pulled back incrementally, and the tip of the broadsword quivered slightly.
Asher looked down, and his homespun shirt was in neatly cut strips hanging from his shoulders. A gust of wind came, and the tatters slithered to the ground. He stepped back aghast.
“I believe in God,” I said, the sword still at the ready. “God isn’t saying that we’re bad people for surviving. He’s got his plan, just as he always had. Likewise, technology isn’t inherently bad. You’ve got no reason to fight with other people, no reason to bully them into your way of thinking. You’re a fool if you think they’ll stay with yo
u longer by continuing down this road.”
The anger that was boiling up in Asher could be seen in his twisting face and I sighed. The sword moved again. It was over before he could look down again. He fell to the ground and covered the clean slice across his thigh with one ham-sized hand.
“Use the strips I just made,” I advised.
I looked up and caught the eyes of the next man, who hadn’t moved. “Move the cars and move them quickly,” I instructed in a tone that brooked no refusal. “Like I said, I’ve got a medical emergency, and we’ve got a long way to go.”
And look, I didn’t even need the people who were prepared to help me.
One of the firefly pixies sang, “Did the sisters see what Soophee did?” Another one sang, “No, Soophee was a blur!”
Some of the people on the train got off to help. While the blockage was being removed, Ignatius examined a sullen Asher’s thigh and put about twenty stitches into it, with some brief instructions about taking some antibiotics and keeping the wound clean. I talked to the two women and several of Asher’s other people. Three of them got on the train before the last vehicle was removed from the tracks.
When it was said and done, I felt like I hadn’t messed up too badly.
The last thing I said to Asher was, “If I hear about you kidnapping girls again, I won’t aim for the thigh.”
Asher sneered up at me, his hand resting over the bandaged wound as if that would protect him. Then his eyes caught something behind me and widened. They went very large, and his mouth opened in a wide O of amazement and fear.
I turned and looked.
I didn’t know what it was, but it was large and obstructed the stars beyond it. It had pulsing lights along the sides of the bottom like a dozen eyes staring down at us.
And I couldn’t help the thought that flew through my brain, What now? What the hella bad news bears is that thing?
Chapter 27
Que Sera, Sera…
Ignatius inadvertently echoed me with, “What is that?”
Sliding the broadsword back into its sheath, I glanced over my shoulder. The last remaining car that had obstructed the tracks was completely removed. “Let’s not stop to chat,” I suggested. “Everyone on the train!”
The top of the distant shape was a huge elliptical shape that blocked out the stars. The bottom was smaller, but large enough to have a line of lights along the sides. It took me a moment to realize that the humming noise I heard above the rumble of the steam locomotive was the higher-pitched rumble of another engine.
People scrambled. Horse jumped up the stairs and squeezed into one of the cars without breaking a leg. Craig gave the steam whistle a brief yank and yelled, “All aboard!”
I sprinted for the train, casting one last look at Asher. He’d forgotten about me and was staring at the skies with a dumbfounded expression. “It’s the apocalypse!” he screamed suddenly. “The real one!” He dragged himself away from the tracks as quickly as he could.
Dude, make up your mind.
Two more of Asher’s people broke for the train, and I directed them to the cars in the back. I told Tyree to keep an eye on them until they settled down.
Tyree tripped on his feet as he climbed around the tender. I held onto the door of the engine and said to Craig, “Hit it.”
Too bad a steam train wasn’t like a Ford Shelby GT500 going from 0-60 M.P.H. in 3.5 seconds. It might go 0-60 M.P.H. in 10.5 minutes. Downhill with a stiff back breeze and everyone leaning forward. Maybe.
Catching the handles at the sides of the door, I climbed onto the tender and kept a wary eye on the thing floating behind us. It was headed directly for our position, and it wasn’t slowing down.
“How far to where we stop?” I called to Craig.
“A few miles, maybe,” Craig called back with nervous peeps over his shoulder.
Stephen craned his neck, peering upward.
“It’s the Goodyear Blimp,” he said.
“It is not the Goodyear Blimp,” I said. It might have been the Goodyear Blimp but only after a lot of work. Please, don’t let it be the Goodyear Blimp. That’s like if Santa Claus decided to go bad and was chasing us with evil elves and demented reindeer.
“You know, we’re big fat walking targets once I stop this train and we get off!” Craig yelled.
Craig had a point. However, getting the train to its farthest point was my only coherent plan so that there would be less area to cover with Clora. We ran with her or we surrendered and she vanished.
Landers stuck his head over the far edge of the tender. “Sophie! Doc said to tell you that Clora’s going into labor!”
“Of course she is.” I scrambled over the tender so that I wouldn’t have to yell at Landers.
“An hour to the other train by foot,” I said. “An hour to get it ready? Landers, did you tell them to get it going?” I tapped the side of my head.
Landers grimaced at me. “I did,” he said. “The guy’s name is Ralph. He knows something’s going on because they’ve had flybys by something he doesn’t know what it is. Something large in the sky.”
That meant there was more than one. Oh, joyity joy and joyfulness.
“Have they been running the train through the giant moths’ territory?”
Landers took a minute. I gathered he was asking Ralph telepathically. “Yes, planting bulbs, flying the flag on the engine, not interfering with the nests. He said the moths aren’t around much right now.”
“An hour to the other train, an hour to get it ready,” I repeated. “Maybe 350 miles to Sunshine. That’s what, eight hours at 40 M.P.H.?” What did I know about labor? A pregnant woman could be in labor for a few hours or a few days. Ignatius could narrow it down for me. But throw a woman in labor onto the back of a new animal in order to gallop her down the side of the tracks, and who knew what it would result in?
Landers thought about it. “Maybe nine if we have to slow down for anything. Maybe seven if Craig floors it.”
“And five if he super glues his foot to the pedal,” I said to myself. Did a train even have a pedal? I didn’t know, and I didn’t have time to check. I glanced at Craig. He chose that moment to look back at me, standing on the tips of my toes to catch his gaze. He couldn’t hear what I was saying, but he had an idea all the same. “Find Meka and Horse,” I told Landers, even while I turned back to face him, “and tell them they’re going to have to hurry ahead of us. Tell the other people on the train that if they don’t keep up with the rest of us, they’ll be left behind in Omaha, but they need to follow the tracks toward Sunshine, Colorado. We’ll come back for them when we can. Do a headcount before we get off the train. Count everyone and every animal.” I considered. “Don’t worry about the firefly pixies. They’ll find me.”
“Food?”
“We’ll have to grab what we can while we’re crossing around the mountains in Omaha. Hit a few grocery stores and grab as much as will fit in the bags. If someone doesn’t want to come with us because of that—” I jabbed a finger toward the thing in the sky “—then they need to tell us now.”
Landers looked up in the direction I was pointing and flinched. “Holy carpe diem,” he muttered. “What is that?”
There was a distant whump that was like a sonic boom, and I thought, Oh crudcakes. A moment later and there was a fantastic crash in the side of the train that took out windows and metal alike. Landers and I both ducked even though it wasn’t even close to us.
“What was that?” Craig screamed.
“I’m guessing it was a bowling ball!” I yelled back, which narrowed down the identity of the individual running the large thing chasing us. I turned back to Landers. “Tell everyone to duck under the seats! Get Clora to Horse and don’t forget that headcount! If they keep firing at us, tell Horse to get Clora off the train now and meet us at the train station! She should remember where!”
Landers’ head vanished.
I could hear someone screaming in the afflicted car, and I hoped it wasn�
��t as bad as it could be.
“Sisters!” I sang. I pointed at the thing above and behind us. “Go poke holes in that thing. At the top! There will be fabric at the top that you can pierce with your swords!” The remaining firefly pixies screamed their defiance of the huge flying monster and sped away. Bowling balls weren’t going to hit them. I hoped.
“Craig!” I bellowed. “Keep this train going until the last possible second!” I disappeared into the first car before he could answer me. In the second car, the bowling ball rested in the remnants of a bench seat, and there was a big hole in the wall. The bowling ball was bright green with copper swirls in it. The number 10 was imprinted on it, and I knew it referred to the weight of the ball. The words on the side said “I Bowl, I Am!”
One of the new girls had a broken arm, and she wouldn’t stop screaming until Landers said he was going to break her jaw if she didn’t shut up. It wasn’t my preferred method but it worked.
There was another distant whump, and we all dived for the floor of the car. However, the bowling ball missed and thudded into a building next to the tracks. An industrial-sized set of windows shattered in a synchronized concert of falls.
I dashed for the next car and found Prosper huddled with Oki. Other people looked at me hopefully.
“What’s happening?” Prosper asked. Lulu peered through the window closest to the thing behind us.
“Bad guys in a big flying thing,” I said. “They’re firing stuff at us. They’re not happy.”
“Flying thing?”
“Like a blimp,” I said.
“The train will outrun it,” Prosper said.
“Except we have to stop in a mile or so and get off to go around an obstacle and then get on another train.”
“Oh.”
“Can Oki fly on top of the…what the heck is it?...and poke holes in the balloon part?”
Mountains of Dreams Page 27