by Kirk Allmond
There were so many things to do. John said something after a conversation with his brother that Sean never slept anymore. Victor wasn’t sure how it was possible to stay sane without sleep, but he would give up a lot of his abilities to never have to do it again. These days, with the amount of physical labor everyone all put in, six hours of sleep was a minimum.
While he was cleaning, he started making lists in his head. Lists of what he had to get done before they could leave to get John's family. Lists of things he had to do before he could go after Frye. Lists of things he had to do while they were on the road. This wasn't a pleasure trip across country. It might be the last time any of them got across the country. He knew it was silly, but he really wanted to show Max the Grand Canyon. Fort McPhearson, just south of Atlanta, was something he wanted to check out. If it wasn't overrun, there was a lot they could gain from there. It was worth an hour side trip here and there to see a few strategic and cultural things.
An hour passed as if it was ten minutes, and his mind was slightly eased. He met Renee in the small dining room, where she was sitting with Mom.
"Victor, Renee tells me you're planning on going all the way across the country to get John's family?"
"I think the only way we're going to get them here alive is if we go clear a place for them to land. I think there's no real chance that they'll make it out of anywhere in southern California alive. That's like trying to go within three hours of New York City. Insanity. Little tiny airfields aren't going to have the type or amount of fuel they need. Without us there, they're going to have to land at a big airport, and that's just not possible."
"How many days do you think you'll be gone?" she asked.
"It was a three-day rail ride back in the day. That was with stops in every small whistle-stop town. We're not planning on stopping in all those towns, but when we do stop, it’s going to be for longer, so I think it'll even out. I'm worst-case planning six days to get there. If we get there in three, it'll give us three days to clear the airstrip. If we get there in five, we'll just have one day before their plane lands," Victor said.
His mom nodded her understanding.
He continued telling his plan, attempting to convince his mother. "John and Max talked to Sean last night; they're in a tight spot there but think they’re leaving in five days. They're dealing with a huge horde of zombies, and it’s pretty ugly. Australia doesn't have many guns and not nearly the ammunition stores that Americans had, so they're resorting to sling shots and melee to deal with thousands of zombies surrounding a neighbor’s farm. Sean seemed pretty confident, though. Apparently, they're doing some pretty significant damage to the zombies every day, and the tide is turning. It’s going to take them two days of flying to get to the US, which means we need to leave tomorrow."
She smiled and said, "Victor, you've had an ability your whole life to convince people to follow you. Keep your wits about you, and bring them home."
She stood up as they were getting ready to leave and hugged him. "Keep them safe, Victor."
The drive to the train yard was relatively uneventful. Renee played with her ability some, learning how to use it. The two of them passed a dozen groups of wandering zombies at the usual places, the small towns along the route. She could make herself and her clothing invisible but had trouble with things in her hands. It seemed to have to do with mass, but they were unable to really nail it down. She was able to conceal a small machete, but when she swung it quickly, it would often reappear in its downward arc. She killed each group swiftly. The exercise was good for her; there was going to be a lot of fighting. After each fight, Victor offered a few pointers from his experience. He only got jumpy enough to shoot one. Renee was fighting outside a gas station at the corner of Route 231 and 29. They were attempting to siphon enough fuel to fill the Jeep they were driving.
Victor was pumping the hand siphon into the pair of five-gallon jerry cans that fit in the rack on the back of the Jeep for the second time while Renee crept around the building looking for zombies to kill. She was enthusiastic about her zombie killing. She appeared behind a group and didn't see the one walking up behind her from the other side.
Victor dropped the siphon, which clanged against the red metal jerry can. Three steps to the hood of the Jeep to prop his arms on allowed Sammie and Victor to explode the zombie's head like an overripe melon from about twenty-five yards. A 30.06 round at twenty-five yards was wicked. Gore sprayed a nearby tree and turned eight feet of dormant grass behind it to a reddish brown color. Good fertilizer for next season and maybe a few hundred less E'Clei living on the planet.
By the time Tookes had fifteen gallons in the gas tank and the two full cans in their basket on the back of the Jeep, Renee was back in the passenger seat. Vic's gunshot would draw zombies in; it made sense to get out of there with some haste. They would probably have a horde to clear out next time they needed to siphon gas out of that station.
The train depot was a wreck. Off in the parking lot were the remains of two John Deere 410C backhoes. The tracks were full of scalped train cars and wrecked, disassembled engines. On the middle track was perhaps the most amazing machine Victor had ever seen. John and Marshall were up on the seventh car of the war-train, mounting what looked like some kind of cannon in a turret. The last car had originally been an Amtrak passenger car. The windows had all been pulled out, replaced by plate steel with gun slits. There was a pair of light machine guns mounted on the back platform of that car, facing the rear.
The next two cars were also Amtrak cars. From the size of the windows, Vic thought they were originally sleeper cars. The windows had been removed again; two women and a man he recognized from the barn were working on welding plate steel where the glass had been. He assumed they'd cut up a number of cargo containers to get the steel; the cars were seriously armored. Each of the sleeper cars had a pair of outriggers from a backhoe attached. Someone welded huge spiked teeth to the outriggers where the feet were. It looked like they could be driven into the ground deep enough to hold the train steady through a hurricane.
In front of those two cars was a cargo container. It had an eighteen-inch walkway all the way around it, allowing people to move forward from the sleeper cars past the container car. In front of that was a tanker car; Victor assumed it was full of diesel, and finally the locomotive that had served them well on their last trip. It looked nothing like it did originally. Lying up over the top of the cab was the arm of the big backhoe. It looked like the arm could be used to clear the tracks of debris.
The entire train had been painted a flat brown and khaki color, mimicking the army's camouflage paint jobs. It would be hard to see crossing fields and even the desert plains. Of course, people would be able to hear it, but if they were a couple of miles off, it would be almost impossible to see. Three more people from the farm came around the side of the train, covered head to toe in various paint colors.
"John! Marshall!" Victor yelled when they stood up from mounting the cannon on top of the last car. They waved and walked towards a ladder leading down to the platform on the back of the train. Renee and Vic walked over towards them to discuss the plan.
Chapter 19
The War Wagon
Marshall and John walked towards them. Marshall pulled a gray t-shirt over his head as he walked. The sleeves were seconds away from ripping as he pushed his huge arms through. He was wearing long heavy-duty khaki cargo pants and brown steel-toed work boots. At some point, he'd cut the cargo pants into shorts that fell raggedly just at his knees. John was wearing the same style cargo pants in an olive green color and a black t-shirt soaked with sweat. Over his shirt was a leather holster that held a small handgun in his armpit. Victor had no idea how he worked like that, but if he were a betting man, he'd bet he had at least two other guns on him and at least five magazines. John didnn't even walk outside to take a leak without a hundred rounds.
"Hey, Vic," said Marshall. "Let's go take a look at this thing. You're gonna love it." He qui
ckly led them inside the train. "The engine and the last car, functioning as the caboose, are armed to go through an entire city's population," began Marshall. "Each has a 50mm canon mounted on the roof and a pair of pole-mounted M249 light machine guns. They can cover a wide arc, to about five feet from the sides of the middle cars. We have enough ammunition, mostly thanks to Shelton over there, to take out a very large horde."
"Whoa. I like it!" Victor said.
"John was worried that bodies would pile up on the tracks if we had to really get into it, so he and a few helpers disassembled the two backhoes you saw out in the parking lot and welded the arm to the front of the locomotive. I don't know where he found hydraulic lines long enough, but the controls for the arm are mounted up by the top gunner on the loco."
Marshall promised me he would make a train that was unstoppable, and I believe he has delivered, thought Victor. "How many people is it going to take to operate this thing?" he asked.
"If we have a full time driver in the locomotive, we have placements for twelve people. The train sleeps eighteen as it sits now. We have all the steel cut to add another sleeper car and paint it tomorrow. We're running low on welding supplies; we could really use some more wire for the mig welder," Marshall replied.
"I'd bet there's a welding supply shop here in town. Ren and I can make a run," Victor said, zipping up the gray fleece he was wearing. The temperature was dropping quickly.
Both John and Marshall looked at him with raised eyebrows.
"She needs the practice, and it seems she's pretty useful," he said. "Plus, Mom made me promise to take her."
"No, ya bloody dink. Do ya think there's a snowball's chance in hell we didn't clean out every supply house for 50 K's?" laughed John.
"K's?" Victor asked.
"Kilometers, ya drongo," he replied, amused at his continual lack of understanding of Aussie-isms.
"Oh. Well, either we can stop in the first town we come to, or Ren and I can make a run to some town you haven't been to yet. I'm sure we'll go through several train yards on the way there. I don't think it'll be too hard to find empty cars along the way. If we're bringing the tools and materials, we can modify the cars on the way," Victor said, slightly embarrassed. He was well used to being the butt of John's jokes.
Renee spoke up. "What do you need for supplies? We're going to need food and water, but we're also going to need medical supplies, hygiene, clothes, blankets, vitamins if we run into malnourished people, and some trade goods. If we run into other people out there, we may be able to trade our way out of trouble. I'm thinking cigarettes, liquor, and coffee."
"Sounds like you already have a list then, Ren. Can anyone else think of anything we need or they need personally?" All of the people who had been helping with the train construction were now gathering around them. John had many friends among the settlers living at the farm; he seemed to know all of them.
"I think shoes, and specifically working or walking boots, will be worth their weight in gold," said one man. Victor looked down at his feet. He wore tennis shoes covered with duct tape.
Vic had seen him around the barn a few times and recognized him from his work around the house. He felt like the settlers hadn't had nearly enough attention from any of them and thought it would be a good time to start giving them some of the things they needed.
He wracked his brain for a name. "You're Randolph, right? Randolph Lightfoot?"
"Yea," he replied.
"I think that's a great suggestion. I think we should make a supply run since we're here in town. It shouldn't take more than a couple of hours," he said and then directed his attention at his brother. "Marshall, can I borrow your truck?" he asked, tossing him the keys to the Jeep. "We're going to need some hauling space."
"Tookes, ya sure ya wanna take that on by yaself?" asked John.
"I'm taking Ren. We're gonna hit the Sam's Club that we already cleaned out. Wasn't that where we saw Polisher Zombie?"
"Nah, mate, was a Wal-Mart," John replied. "I bet he'd still be stuck on that power cord too. Maybe we should have left him."
We all had a laugh as John told the story of Polisher Zombie to those that weren't there.
"All right. Ren and I are going to head to Wal-Mart. We'll come back with the stuff on the list and get it stowed tonight."
"We'll probably still be here. There's a lot to finish up tonight," said Marshall, tossing him the keys to the Haversham's white F-250.
It was only about three miles to the store. It looked exactly as they’d left it. The tree that Marshall uprooted was still laying in the parking lot, all the leaves now dead and blown away. They pulled up to the back of the store and entered through the loading dock door. Polisher Zombie was exactly where they left him.
"I can't sense any zombies in here, Ren," Vic said, but she was already invisible.
"I'll take a look," she said from right beside him. "I'm going to walk straight down that hall. Cover me."
"It's kind of hard to cover you when I can't see you."
"Hopefully they can't see me either."
When Renee got to the end of the hallway, she reappeared and waved her brother forward. When he got to where she was, she turned left down the row in front of the registers, reappearing again at the next corner. Renee and Victor did this all through the store, but it was clear that they had done a good job of clearing it out on their previous visit.
They each took a stack of shopping carts and started grabbing entire shelves full of stuff. Victor packed every pair of reasonable shoes and boots into one, throwing the boxes away as he went. That annoying band they put between them connected the pairs of shoes. Renee started in house-wares, loading up two carts full of fleece blankets and flannel sheets of every size.
"Hey, Ren, I'm sure there are more blankets over in the kids’ section and also with the throw pillows," he said.
"Already got those while you were playing with shoes," she responded. "You go get first aid stuff. Don't forget basics like aspirin and cold medicine. We'll need toothbrushes and toothpaste too."
It took nearly two hours of frantic cart pushing and piling stuff in, but by the end of the run, they had seventeen carts of goods from all over the store lined up at the back doors.
"Ren, this isn't all going to fit," he said with a laugh.
"Then we'll have to make two trips!" She giggled.
"I meant in the train!"
As it turned out, it did all fit in the train, and it took them three trips. Each time they got back to the train yard, they unloaded the truck into a pile. By the time they got back with the next load, those helping with the train had packed all of the gear. One of the cars carrying cargo containers was lined with huge stockroom shelves. They put all of the loot in that container, filling it nearly to capacity. On the third trip back to Wal-Mart, Victor grabbed all the bungee cords and even found a rack of bungee cord nets for the cargo area of trucks and SUV's. They used those to secure the load in the boxcar and put personal items into the living cars.
"Hey, Randolph, you a size ten shoe?" Vic yelled over to him.
"Yea, why?" he replied.
"I picked you up a new pair of boots. They're from Wal-mart, so they probably won't last a year, but it'll get you through until you can find a better pair," he said. He tossed him a pair of cross trainer boots, the kind made for trail running.
"Thanks, Victor, I really appreciate this. Do you happen to have an extra winter coat? My daughter Lydia outgrew hers, so we gave it to Peter Mulcahy's daughter. It’s too big for her, but she'll grow. Poor Lydia's stuck wearing layers and layers of sweatshirts."
"I think we can find something. All of this happened during the summer, so the selection of coats at Wal-Mart was pretty slim."
Renee stepped out of the boxcar holding a navy blue pea coat. "It’s real wool. I know it’s a boy's coat, but it'll keep her warm. Wool keeps you warm even if it’s wet and will last a good long time. Thanks for everything you've done to help us out here, Randolph."
"We all owe our lives to you. That's not something we'll easily forget," he replied. "Even though life is much harder now, the community is strong. I've never seen a group of people who cared for each other as much as us Barnies."
"Barnies?" Victor asked.
"That's what we call ourselves. Those of us who live down at the barn, that is," he replied, seemingly amused at his ignorance.
Right then, Tookes made a promise to Randolph. He didn't know it, Vic didn't say it aloud, but he heard his own voice in his head say, When we get back from this trip, I need to start paying more attention to the people at home. He was embarrassed that he barely knew this guy's name and he'd been living on the property for months. He felt like he owed me something, and I barely knew he existed.
Vic was somber by the time they got home. He felt an inch tall. He had so much, and he took it all for granted. It was after midnight, but he still crept into Max's room and kissed him on the forehead.
"Big day tomorrow, Max. We're going for another train ride," he whispered to him in his sleep. "I love you, Buddy. I'm so glad to have you."
Dawn was just a few hours away when he crawled into bed and passed out.
Chapter 20
Southbound Again
After just under three hours of sleep, they were up and packing the last things. Max woke up and came padding out of his room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"Is it morning, Daddy?" he asked groggily.
"Not yet but it’s time to get up. We're leaving today to go get Mr. John's family. Are you ready for a long train ride?"