Odd Billy Todd

by N. C. Reed

  He looked up suddenly, shock evident on his face.

  “It’s a train!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Billy grabbed his rifle and went back inside. From the front windows of the store, you could see a section of the track. Rhonda followed him, along with Rommel. She was afraid to leave the dog outside on his own.

  Billy watched in silence until the train engine came into view. He noted it was a diesel electric, and also that two more followed. The cars started coming into view, and the first one was a flatbed carrying a tank! The next two were Bradley Fighting Vehicles. The train began to slow, and people appeared. Some were in uniform, but others were not.

  As the train slowed to a stop, a boxcar just coming into view opened it’s doors, and a ramp fell down. Billy could see dirt bikes going down the ramp, and could see others going out the other side as well.

  Men and women began to appear, all armed, and pulling game carts or other wheeled baskets. One was pushing a large wheel barrel. Something about the scene struck a chord in Billy’s mind, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. His frustration didn’t prevent him from making a decision, though.

  “We need to get outside,” he told Rhonda, going back through the store. “We need to be able to see and hear. I don’t like this.”

  “But if it’s the Army, wouldn’t that be a good thing?” Rhonda asked, confused.

  “I don’t think that’s the Army,” Billy shook his head. “Not no more. Some of’em probably used to be, but if they were still Army, they’d all be in uniform. They ain’t. This ain’t. . .somethin’ ‘bout this ain’t right.”

  He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something wasn't right. There was something nagging at the back of his brain, something he just couldn’t quite put his finger on, but he knew it was there.

  Once they were outside, Billy made a quick decision.

  “They’ll scout the town,” he told Rhonda. “They’re. . .locusts!” he cut himself off as the nagging thought finally took shape. “They’re using the train, moving like locusts! They strip everything they can near the tracks, and then move on!” He looked at her.

  “They won’t be happy with us, either,” he told her flatly. “We need to get moving.” Rhonda nodded dumbly, her mind not able to keep up with Billy’s thinking. But she trusted him. Even if he couldn’t make her see it, she knew that he knew something she couldn’t see. That was enough.

  Billy jumped into the truck, and started it, while Rhonda let Rommel in, then got in beside Billy.

  “We need the noise of the train to cover the sound of the truck,” he explained quickly. “We need a way out of town, too. One where they hopefully don’t see us.”

  “We can go that way,” Rhonda pointed to a side street. “Go down a block or two, then start movin’ away from town. Billy, they’re blocking’ the tracks! We can’t get home!”

  “Yes, we can,” Billy told her. “There’s more than one way back, Rhonda. There’s a map in that glove box. Get it out, and open to where we are, while I get us out of here.” Billy backed the truck around expertly, then headed down the street Rhonda had pointed out.

  Billy had the front windows down, so he could hear. He eased the truck along, despite the desire to go tearing off in the opposite direction of the train. He needed to keep the noise down until they were well away.

  There was no apparent reason for his fear, yet he couldn’t escape the feeling that he needed to be afraid. Something was just wrong about it.

  I wish I could figure out what it was that made me think that,he thought as he guided the truck down the street. A few cars were in the street here and there, but he was able to get around them.

  The problem was that he couldn’t find a way back to the other side of town. Every little side street was marked as a dead end.

  What kinda town ain’t got nothin’ but dead ends?he thought furiously. Then, suddenly, he could see why. The side streets all ended at a chain link fence that bordered the Cottonwood High School.

  As he was muttering, he became conscious of a buzzing sound, similar to a chainsaw, but stronger. He looked into his mirror, and saw two dirt bikes screaming down the street behind them.

  “We got company,” he told Rhonda, his voice far more calm than he felt. Rhonda looked in the mirror on her side, and could see one of the bikes.

  “What do we do?” she asked, scared but still in control.

  “We run,” Billy replied, tromping on the gas. The big truck shot forward. The acceleration wasn’t as good as his own truck, but the big diesel had power to spare, and would run as long as there was fuel. As the truck picked up speed, Billy could hear gunfire behind them.

  “They’re shooting!” Rhonda exclaimed.

  “Really?” Billy shot back, trying to concentrate on the road. “I thought it was just a really hard rain.”

  “Smart ass,” Rhonda muttered, bringing her rifle up to her own window. “With the trailer behind us, I can’t get a shot.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Billy told her. “Just get down, a little.” Rhonda was about to object when she saw Billy had a grenade in his hand. He also had a small glass jar that he pulled from under the seat.

  “Tape the grenade to this,” he ordered, showing her a roll of electrical tape. “Make sure the tape goes under the spoon.”

  “Teach your grandmother,” Rhonda muttered again, working fast.

  “What’s in the jar?” she asked, as she worked.

  “Surprise,” Billy grunted, as he fought the wheel around, narrowly missing a car that sat sideways in the street. The truck and trailer were bouncing around pretty good, but he couldn’t slow down. He’d just have to hope they’d packed well. He could hear firing again, as the motor bikes gained ground, always being careful not to get too close. Billy realized they were shooting at the tires.

  They want the trailer, and maybe the truck, he realized. And maybe her, too, he thought, glancing at Rhonda. That ain’t gonna happen.

  “You ‘bout done over there?” he asked, whipping the wheel to the side as one of the biker’s tried another shot. Billy could see tufts of pavement flying up where the shots hit. That would have been close.

  Billy counted over and over, gauging the distance between him, and the bikers. He only had once chance at this, and it had to be right. Too late, and the bikers would speed by what he had in mind. Too slow and. . .well, he didn’t need to be slow.

  “Ready!” Rhonda told him, holding out the jar. Billy took it, transferring it to his left hand.

  “Reach over here, and when I say, yank the pin out.”

  “What!” Rhonda almost screamed.

  “Hey! I can teach, or I can do. Your call!” Billy retorted. They wouldn’t even be in this mess if not for that stupid grocery store. He didn’t say that, but then he didn’t have to. He could see in her eyes she was thinking the same thing.

  “Okay,” she nodded, almost breathless. Billy started counting again, and had to swerve sharply once more to avoid a truck in the road. This also happened to throw the aim off from the second biker, who had been lining up for a shot.

  “Now,” he said calmly, and Rhonda pulled the pin. Billy started counting.

  “Throw it for God’s sake!” Rhonda shouted. Billy ignored her, and kept counting. Suddenly he heaved the jar, with the grenade attached, out the window, throwing it as high as he could manage, and angling the throw a little to the rear. As soon as he released it, he floored the truck.

  “Might want to get down,” Billy told her calmly. Before she could react, there was a huge explosion behind them. She could see the flash in the mirror.

  What she couldn’t see was the fireball that blossomed when the grenade went off, igniting the mixture of gasoline and gelatin inside the jar. The jellied gasoline went everywhere, clinging to anything it touched.

  Including the bikers.

  Rhonda couldn’t hear the screams of the most unfortunate of the two, who burned alive as the concoction immolated
him. The lucky one was killed out-right by the grenade blast.

  Billy never slowed down.

  Thanks, dad.

  *****

  “They just started shooting at us for no reason!” Rhonda exclaimed. She was over her fear now, and was just mad. And maybe still a little chagrined that it was her desire to loot the grocery that had led them to be there when the train had cut them off from home.

  “Well, no matter how nice you phrase it, we are looters,” Billy shrugged. “Even if the former owner is dead, I think it’s still looting.”

  “But they just assumed. . . .” Rhonda retorted.

  “Look, I told you that something’ wasn’t right about them,” Billy shrugged. “They were lookin’ to do the same thing we just did this morning. Which means we need to watch real close when towns have a set of tracks going through them. We might run up on that bunch, or another like’em, again.

  “I hope not,” Rhonda said.

  They were on their way home, by a round about route that wouldn’t require them to go back through Cottonwood. It wasn’t far out of the way, and much safer than trying to wait, hoping the train moved on.

  “Think they’ll be mad about them two?” Rhonda asked. Billy shrugged.

  “Imagine they’ll be madder ‘bout them bikes, than they are about the men,” he told her. “Kind o’ people like that, they’ll figure them two was stupid to get killed.”

  “You seem to know a lot about this, Billy,” Rhonda said evenly.

  “I been readin’ my daddy’s books,” Billy shrugged. “Where I learned that trick with the jar. ‘Sposed to be a road flare, but I figured since I had that grenade, it’d work too.”

  “I’ll say it did,” Rhonda nodded. “We probably ought to think about diggin’ out some o’ them autos we found at the trading’ post,” she added.

  “We’ll see,” Billy nodded. “But this kind o’ thing, we ain’t doing’ it again. At least not where they got train tracks going’ through town,” he added. Rhonda nodded, knowing that was as close as Billy would get to blaming her for what had happened.

  “Where’s the nearest track to us?” Rhonda asked. “I know there’s not one it Cedar Bend.”

  “There’s an old spur line up on the north part of the county,” Billy told her. “They built it for the car parts plant, so they could ship to the car factory by rail. As far as I know, that’s the only one. We ain’t too near the river, so we shouldn’t have trouble with ‘pirates’ either.”

  “I hadn’t thought about that.”

  “Well, the river ain’t really navigable, so I doubt we have much trouble anyway,” he chuckled. “But the Tennessee is, and so is the Cumberland. I’d imagine there’s boats out there right now, with people who took to’em tryin’ to avoid the sickness.”

  “You know,” Rhonda mused, “I had thought we had it pretty bad, here. But when I think about the stuff you talked about, we got it pretty good, don’t we?”

  “We do,” Billy nodded. “We’re not near a major highway, and most thugs and thieves won’t ‘waste’ the time to check little back roads like ours. Course, them that do are likely to be more organized. Smarter.”

  “Well, the house is pretty well concealed,” Rhonda pointed out.

  “Yep,” was all Billy said. “But like I said yesterday, we can’t just sit there. Well, we can,” he amended, “but if we do, what’s the point? Before we met up, I was content to just sit on the farm. And I would have kept sittin’ there after emptying your pa’s place, and the trading post,” he admitted. “I wouldn’t have gathered all that stuff you suggested we get.”

  “I might have gone to that trade day once in a while, with Jerry and his family, but that would have been about it. After we went yesterday, though,” he continued, still keeping his eyes on the unfamiliar road, “I don’t want to do that no more. We had a good time. It was nice to be around folks again, even though we had to deal with that roadblock, and that Blaine guy. Bein’ able to go and do stuff like that gives us something’ to look forward to.”

  “I kinda like that,” he finished, looking at Rhonda and smiling.

  “I did too,” she admitted. “And I’m sorry I got us into this mess, today,” she went on, wanting to apologize, even though she knew, deep down, that it wasn’t necessary. “I. . .I just didn’t think about something like that happening, Billy. I’m sorry,” she repeated. He shrugged.

  “I. . .It wasn’t a bad idea,” he admitted. “But we should o’ planned for it. One thing I know, is that we always need a plan, and we need to stick to it. Makin’ changes on the fly just ain’t a good way to do business.” He was falling back on the way he’d ran his garage with that statement, but he saw nothing wrong with that. His business had been successful as long as he kept to his plans. So had his life after the plague.

  “You’re right,” she nodded. “I tried to do today by the seat of my pants. We won’t do anything like that again.”

  “Nothin’ wrong with the seat o’ your pants,” he snickered, and she punched him lightly on the shoulder, blushing.

  “Pervert,” she teased, and he shrugged.

  “From now on, if, and I do mean if, we do anything like that, we make a plan, we stick to it,” Billy said. “We’ll take a day and watch the place, and if there’s people about, or signs of people about, then we move on. Today was okay, really. There was no way for us to know about something’ like that train.”

  ‘That train’ was still nagging at Billy, though, and he didn’t know why. There was something important about it, he decided, but he just couldn’t figure it out.

  “That train bothers me,” he shared his worry with Rhonda. She needed to know, he reasoned. One, she could help him figure it out maybe. Two, she just deserved to know. They couldn’t keep things from each other if they wanted to make it, both as a couple, and as a team.

  “Well, I can see why,” Rhonda admitted. “I mean, they had at least one tank, and a couple of AFV’s. I’d say they got more than that, too, that we didn’t see.”

  “Did you see the way they came off that train?” Billy noted. “That wasn’t the first time, or even the second or third that they’ve done something like that. They got a plan.”

  “And a pretty good one, it looked like,” Rhonda nodded in agreement. “I’d say whoever is in charge is pretty smart, and spent a little bit of time working on that idea.”

  “It ain’t a bad notion,” Billy shrugged. “I hate to say it, but it ain’t. Stay mobile, well protected, and just take everything you can find along the tracks. The main question is, to me, are they heading somewhere, and just strippin’ all they can as they go? Or are they making a livin’ at stripping towns along the tracks. If it’s the second, then they’re probably changing tracks along the line. Which means they’ll be moving all over the country.”

  “That could lead them to Franklin,” Rhonda said softly. “There’s a lot of people in Franklin.”

  “Lot of goods, too,” Billy agreed. “We need to tell Jerry about this. He can maybe warn that guy he talks to over there, and he can warn the others.”

  “We could call Ralph,” Rhonda offered. Billy thought about that.

  “Probably a good idea,” he nodded after a minute. “We owe him that, anyway. I don’t know if he’s near any tracks, but if he is, he’ll want to look like he ain’t got nothin’.”

  They spent the rest of the trip home discussing their options, and formulating a plan for future salvaging runs.

  *****

  “A train?” Jerry asked, surprise evident in his face.

  “Yep,” Billy nodded. The two men were at the hog pen, looking over their project, and eyeing what trees they might cut to enlarge the pen area.

  “And they had a tank, of all things?”

  “Yeah, at least one, and a couple of those Bradley’s, too,” Billy nodded again. “And they were well prepared. They swept off that train with dirt bikes, and people swarmin’ through town pullin’ game carts and such. They’d done i
t before.”

  “You said they chased you?”

  “Two of them did,” Billy confirmed. “But they’re gone. No one else was around. We took another way home, and sat and watched a couple times, just to make sure no one was following. I don’t think they would have, anyway. I think, from lookin’ at them, they’re just takin’ what they can find along the tracks.”

  “What were you two doin’ there, anyway?” Jerry demanded. Billy looked at the older man, face set.

  “Lookin’ around,” he said evenly. “Lookin’ for things we could use. That sort o’ thing.”

  “You hadn’t oughta be doin’ that!” Jerry exclaimed. “At least not without lettin’ me know!”

  “How you figure that?” Billy asked calmly, looking Jerry right in the eye.

  “Billy, if someone follows you, they’ll find us!”

  “If they do,” Billy nodded. “Believe it or not, I figured that out on my own,” he added. Billy didn’t like Jerry’s attitude. No sir, he didn’t.

  “I made plans to keep that from happening,” Billy told him. “Not just for you, but for us too. I don’t want nobody knowin’ where we are, Jerry. Period. There’s safety in stayin’ hidden, and unknown.”

  “But that don’t mean we can just sit here, neither. We can’t just sit here, hidden, and let the world pass us by. Just like goin’ to Franklin. Everything is a calculated risk. We want stuff to trade, we have to sometimes go out and get it. Did you know that every trader up there has a list they hand out? Of things they need, and are willing to barter for?”

  “No. No, I didn’t,” Jerry admitted, his stance softening some.

  “Well, they do. And we ain’t just doing all this for the two of us, Jerry,” Billy added, trying to keep his voice more friendly. “We’re thinkin’ o’ ya’ll, too. Like yesterday, in Cottonwood, Rhonda went to the fabric place, and got Emma a whole bolt of fleece material.” Jerry didn’t know what to say.

  “I. . .Billy that was. . .that was mighty thoughtful,” he stammered. “But you hadn’t ought to take such risks. Not for that.”