Eastern Front: Zombie Crusade IV

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Eastern Front: Zombie Crusade IV Page 24

by J. W. Vohs


  CHAPTER 18

  Following their arrival in Vicksburg, Jack endured the usual rounds of introductions. Captain Harden, the security chief for the bridge settlement, had been spending time with Bobby and Gabe since Carter and David had left to look for Jack, and he no longer had any doubts about the validity of the claims made by these strangers from the north. That T.C. and his mother could vouch for Carter didn’t hurt matters either, and his first impression of Jack was that he was an honest, brave soldier who was doing everything in his power to defeat humanity’s most dangerous adversary. After shaking many hands and touching base with Bobby and Gabe, Jack asked Captain Harden for a private tour of the defenses. Just as they were getting ready to leave, Luke and Carter came sauntering up, with T.C. close on their heels.

  Jack was genuinely surprised, and a he felt a lump rise in his throat.

  “Why didn’t anybody tell me that you found T.C.?” He slapped the boy’s shoulder. “You probably don’t remember, but we’ve spent a couple holidays together.” He looked back at Carter and tried to sound casual, “Have you picked up any other lost relatives along the way?”

  T.C. cut in, “Haven’t you seen Mom? She’s here in Vicksburg. Lucy too.”

  The fact that the boy didn’t mention his father’s name told Jack all he needed to know about Curtis for the moment. “How did I not know that Charlotte is here too? People keep telling me that I’m the guy in charge, so doesn’t that mean that everyone is supposed to keep me informed of important developments?”

  “I thought Deb woulda told ya; I let her and Momma know to get in touch with Charlotte here in Vicksburg.”

  Gabe interjected, “I can see the family resemblance, Carter, but your sister is still much prettier than you. I know she’s talked with your mom a couple times—it’s been pretty special.”

  Jack was incredulous. “You don’t even know these people—how can I be the last one to hear about this?”

  Luke found the situation amusing; he wasn’t used to seeing Jack flustered about anything. He smiled and offered an explanation, “I know you’ve been pretty busy , and I bet no one wanted to distract you from your official responsibilities.”

  Gabe added, “Luke’s right. I would have said something when you got here if I’d known it was a big deal.”

  Jack sighed, “Fine, you’re all off the hook. Now let’s get started on that tour before any other surprises pop up.” He turned to see Charlotte walking up behind Harden.

  Carter smiled and tipped his head in Jack’s direction. “I think this fella wants to say hello. Seems he didn’t know ya were here.”

  Charlotte turned to Jack. “Come here—.” She pulled him into a hug and held him tight for a moment before stepping back and looking directly into his eyes. “It’s been a long time, professor. I must say you’re looking pretty good for a guy in the middle of leading a zombie war.”

  “You’ve held up pretty well yourself,” Jack replied as he wondered how someone who bore such a resemblance to Carter could still be so breathtakingly beautiful. Like her brother, she’d always been tall and athletic, but her wide-set eyes were slightly larger, her features more delicate and refined. Dressed in leather with several weapons strapped to her belt, he thought she looked like a deadly Nordic goddess. “Somebody should have let me know you were here.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’ve been pretty busy. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time for socializing once you’ve killed all of the infected, but we’ll put off catching up on old times for now. We’re all counting on you, you know.”

  Harden grabbed Jack’s shoulder and steered him toward one of the walls. “We are counting on you, and you’re counting on us. I think we have a lot to talk about.” Jack nodded and the two men set off, neither one speaking a word until they reached the top of wall number one.

  As he and Jack were standing in the cold wind, facing east, the moment had come for the bitter truth to be shared between the two leaders.

  “These walls are the highest and strongest I’ve ever seen,” Jack declared.

  “Won’t be enough if this Barnes character finds us, will it?” Harden asked with the slightest bit of hope still hanging by a thread in his heart.

  “They’ll be up here in five minutes,” Jack speculated, “maybe less.”

  Harden nodded as if he had already known the answer. “So what the hell should we do, head south again?”

  Jack frowned. “Sooner or later Barnes will spread across the entire continent. We found an island in the middle of the Ohio—”

  “Diamond Island,” Harden finished the sentence.

  “Yep, couldn’t ask for a better set-up than what they have there: deep channels to the north and south, fertile soil, and plenty of room for everyone to spread out. They might hold out for a few years. Sooner or later Barnes will have enough humans living in his work camps to recruit a militia to subdue places like Diamond Island. Eventually Barnes will have some industry up and running too. The folks on Diamond Island will be living 18th Century lives, and Barnes’ people will have modern weapons, transportation, and medicine. I know this crazy bastard—he won’t tolerate any hold-outs. Sooner or later, he’ll be coming for everyone.”

  Harden looked out over the countryside as if it was already littered with corpses. “Guess we gotta make a stand some place, but I’m tellin’ ya, we fought like hell last time and got whipped real quick. My soldiers will fight for this place, but I’m gonna insist that we evacuate the non-fighting women and the children to islands further south; if we lose here they can eventually negotiate their own terms with Barnes.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Jack agreed. “So you’ll fight here?”

  “Do I have a choice?” Harden retorted.

  Jack didn’t flinch from the seasoned veteran’s accusing glare. “I didn’t know you folks were here when I cut Barnes off at the Ohio and planned to do the same at the Mississippi. I did know that I was going to fight him somewhere along the river. I can think of no better place than Vicksburg, can you?”

  Harden spat over the edge of the wall, “That’s what General Pemberton thought a hundred and fifty years ago when Grant was headin’ this way.”

  “Good point,” Jack nodded, “but we won’t be cut off from help like he was, ever.”

  “So what’s the plan? If these walls won’t stop ‘em, what are we gonna do?”

  Jack pointed out toward the small city of Vicksburg. “We build defenses out there, force the enemy to spread out so they can’t concentrate so much energy in one location like they did back at the bridge near Brandenburg.”

  Harden gave Jack a sideways glance. “Do you really know what you’re doin’?”

  Jack shrugged, “Haven’t lost a battle yet.”

  “Uh, you forget the bridge in Kentucky already?”

  “That was a tactical retreat; I believe we still hold the strategic initiative.”

  “How you figure that?”

  “When we headed south to the Ohio River, we needed information more than anything else. We needed to know where Barnes was and in what strength, as well as what his army was capable of. We also needed to keep him out of Indiana while doing all those things. Everyone knew we couldn’t hold that bridge forever, that’s why it was wired with so much explosive. We lost seven men while killing five to ten thousand hunters. Now we have Barnes chasing us all over Kentucky and Tennessee. We can prepare our battlefield while he’s running blind. So yeah, losing seven men at the bridge was a huge loss for such a small force, but we accomplished all of our objectives and are now forcing the enemy to dance to our tune.”

  Harden nodded slightly, “Okay, but none of that will matter one bit if he shows up here in overwhelming force; which is exactly what he’s gonna do. What’s your answer for that?”

  Jack smiled, “Allies and force multipliers.”

  The first thing Jack did was order the radio equipment that he’d managed to tow to Clover Creek and load onto the vehicles set up on the bridge.
Within a day he was in direct contact with Utah and Fort Wayne. The western leader, Stephen Carlson, had already spoken with Hiram Anderson, the man he’d put in charge of the Indiana mission.

  “I’m coming east this time, Jack,” Stephen declared, “and I’m bringing twelve thousand fighters with me. They’re all armored and equipped according to your manual, and they’re raring to go.”

  “Stephen, you can’t leave Utah defenseless,” Jack protested.

  “I thought you knew me better than that; there will still be plenty of soldiers out here. Once our harvest was in, full employment became a big problem. I started moving the young and strong into organized military units and replacing them in their jobs, if they still existed, with non-fighters. With all the early snow in the mountains, we’re really seeing a lot of the survivalists scattered throughout the Rockies coming down to join us. We have food and fuel for the winter, but if we want more grain next year we’re going to need you folks in the Midwest. Don’t worry, I’ll be leaving ten thousand troops out here, and another five thousand in training. Until this war is over, we’re fielding a regular army, and I’m bringing the 1st and 2nd Utah Infantry Divisions to Vicksburg.”

  Jack was simply stunned at the number of troops Utah was providing for the war effort here in the east. “Stephen, I uh, I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything, Jack. Hiram Anderson and I have made it clear from the beginning that this was more than an alliance to us; your people have shed blood for ours. We’re in this till the end. And Jack, I will command the 1st Division while Hiram has the 2nd; both of them will be under your overall command.”

  “You’re placing a lot of trust in me.”

  “Hiram has been my best friend for twenty years, and he’s as much responsible for Utah surviving the outbreak as I am. He says you’re the real deal, Jack, an old school general with the skills needed to fight this new kind of war. He’d follow you to hell and back, and that’s good enough for me. We’re coming to help, and you’re going to command.”

  “Yes, sir; how soon can you be here?”

  “Your man Simmons already has a rail route ready to go. I plan to be on the west bank of the river two days from now with a thousand men. The others will need ten days to fully deploy. Will that be soon enough?”

  “I think so,” Jack explained, “I’ve got the equivalent of a Special Forces platoon out there slowing Barnes’ advance. We’ve got at least two weeks, probably double that, to prepare our defenses here. Please bring your engineers on the first train if at all possible.”

  Carlson chuckled, “I’ve heard that great minds think alike, but I didn’t know ours did too; most of the 1st Engineer Battalion is scheduled to depart with me tomorrow. Planning on creating some defensive works?”

  “That’s the idea; we’ll be going medieval on these bastards!”

  Two days later Jack, Carter, and David were waiting at the newly established railhead to get their first look at the Utah military leader they’d often spoken with but never seen until this moment. They knew that Stephen Carlson was a former SEAL officer who’d been teaching classes at Utah State when the outbreak began, but the short, slim, balding man who stepped from the train to meet his Indiana allies looked more like a former accountant than one of America’s elite warriors. Then they looked into the veteran’s eyes, and they felt the strength in his grip when they shook hands. Carlson seemed capable of looking into the soul of every person he met with his piercing gaze, which was framed by a face that was permanently tanned and marred by a long, angry scar running along most of his left jawline. The self-described wayward Mormon noticed Luke standing nearby. The teen was gawking at the pink furrow ending in a mass of red tissue where the bottom half of an ear once existed.

  “Zigged when I should have zagged in Iraq, kid,” Carlson smiled as he ran a finger over the length of the scar. “I’m also disfigured by 7.62 holes through my left shoulder and right thigh, courtesy of a sniper during the Gulf War. Other than that, and debilitating PTSD, I’m as good now as I ever was.”

  He then winked at Jack, “Didn’t you tell the youngsters that Frankenstein was on the way?”

  Jack shrugged, “You didn’t sound like a shot-up mental case over the radio; now that we’ve actually met I should probably send out a warning to everyone else.”

  The two leaders laughed and Carlson slapped Jack on the back good-naturedly as they walked along the rails to the fourth boxcar to meet the officer in charge of the engineer battalion. Jack and the other officers in Vicksburg had been scouting the area to help generate ideas for different types of defense works, and they were anxious to begin collaborating with Carlson’s men. The lieutenant colonel commanding the engineers introduced his staff and company commanders. They were all chomping at the bit to get a look at the ground they were to prepare for battle. With two hours of sunlight remaining in the day, Jack decided to quickly drive the officers around Vicksburg even before they had a chance to stow their gear. From the enthusiasm shown by the men, he knew that he’d made a popular decision, one that would allow the Utah engineers to immediately begin forming plans for obstructing the horde of infected headed their way.

  The first stop was the relatively short causeway leading to the main bridge on the eastern side of the Mississippi. The riverbank here was high and rocky compared to the western shore, so the builders of the I-20 Bridge had been able to begin construction of their span very close to the muddy water. From this point the soldiers could view the immediate ground leading from the river to the main part of Vicksburg, the area that would be their last, and most important, line of defense.

  After a few moments of observation, one of the Utah lieutenants remarked, “Looks like we better find a bunch of bulldozers.”

  “We can find ‘em,” Captain Harden growled. “Our folks used a dozen of ‘em working on the walls.”

  The battalion commander commented, “After reading General Smith’s manual on fighting the infected, plus the in-depth reviews of the big battles that have been circulating through army channels, I suggest we find a way to anchor both of our flanks on the river.”

  Nobody responded until Jack finally realized that he was now General Smith. He didn’t like the title one bit, but given Carlson’s official command structure for the troops from Utah, he knew he needed to roll with it. “Excellent idea, Colonel, can your men clear a wide enough kill zone in an arc fronting the bridge?”

  “Absolutely, sir, if we can get a hold of some bulldozers and diesel fuel. We can probably limit the arc to somewhere between six and eight hundred meters in total length; with the troops we’ll have available we should be able to man that size of perimeter in depth.”

  “Sounds good,” Jack agreed. “I also want to try to block the heavy woods on both sides of I-20 where it bridges over that railroad cut . . . well, you can’t see it from here, but it’s less than a mile out.”

  Carlson jumped into the conversation, “We literally have tons of concertina wire stored in depots near Ogden. We’ll start hauling it in with the troops immediately.”

  Jack nodded in satisfaction, “All right, we have a good start then. Now we need to get your troops bivouacked, and I need a conference with you in my headquarters: I have an idea I want to bounce off of you.”

  Following a hearty meal of roast beef, catfish, and once again, several types of corn-based dishes, Jack and Carlson retreated to a small conference room in the meeting hall with Carter, David, and Harden. A huge map of Tennessee, Kentucky, and Mississippi sat on a wall in front of several rows of folding chairs. Jack waved everyone to sit down as Carter stepped up to the map with a pointer. The ex-Ranger was many things, and had lived in many places, but at his core he was a southern boy, and his knowledge of the region was the reason he was leading this meeting.

  As soon as everyone was seated, Carter pointed to an area just south of the Ohio River. “This is where the Tennessee and Cumberland Rivers pour into the Ohio. The big green area ju
st south of the confluence is ‘The Land Between the Lakes National Recreation Area.’ It’s more’n ten miles long, and the only bridges are north and south of it. Chad Greenburg’s instructions were to travel to this region once he forced Barnes southeast along the Green River. Now eventually Barnes is gonna get over the Green and head west again, and Chad’s force will be wreckin’ bridges all along the Tennessee River to keep the general’s army movin’ in a mainly southwesterly direction.”

  Carter traced the route on the map with his pointer and explained, “As ya can see, once Barnes is travellin’ along the Tennessee, he’ll be on a route pointin’ toward us. That wouldn’t be such a problem if we could keep him on the east bank, but Chad ain’t gonna be able to stop ‘em at the Pickwick Dam. There’s a road over that dam, and we’d be hard-pressed to destroy it with pre-outbreak explosives, let alone with what we got now. Once Barnes is over the Tennessee at Pickwick, he can follow Highway 45 through Corinth and turn west at Tupelo. From there he can take 278 through Oxford and link up with I-55. At that point, there’s nothin’ to stop him from movin’ down the corridor ‘tween the Big Black and Yazoo Rivers, which will bring him right to the front door of Vicksburg.”

  Carlson raised a hand. “Is there any way we can seriously contest the crossing at the Pickwick Dam?”

  Carter released a long, pent-up sigh, having been brought to the point of the meeting without having to introduce the nearly suicidal mission himself. “We just don’t know right now, sir. We don’t have radio contact with Greenburg’s team since they’re constantly on the move, so we can only speculate about Barnes’ location and speed of march. Our best guess is that the hunter-army is more than a week away from the crossin’ at Pickwick, even if they know ‘bout it and are making a push fer it. That’s if Barnes is still wanderin’ from bridge to bridge, hopin’ to find one intact.”

 

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