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HOLD

Page 5

by Duane P. Craig


  Then we’re go­ing to ha­ve a ma­j­or prob­lem.

  By la­te af­ter­no­on the tra­in fi­nal­ly bro­ught us in­to the city. I shut the do­or to the en­gi­ne as we be­gan to smell the stench of de­ath and un­de­ad ali­ke. It do­es tell me tho­ugh, that they are rot­ting des­pi­te the na­no­tech­no­logy, or at le­ast the de­com­po­sing is a fas­ter pro­cess. In the long run this may just be a wa­iting ga­me. Mi­nu­tes la­ter in the tra­in yard, my fe­ars be­ca­me re­ality. The­re we­re cars on every track. I stop­ped the tra­in des­pi­te a few gho­uls al­re­ady cu­ri­o­us abo­ut us. I left Beth and Sid loc­ked in the en­gi­ne. I clim­bed to the top of the en­gi­ne with the ra­il­ro­ad map. I was ab­le to see everyt­hing ahe­ad and all obs­tac­les that we must pass. I ge­ne­ra­ted a qu­ick plan and got back in­si­de the en­gi­ne to exp­la­in it to Beth.

  Mi­nu­tes la­ter Beth was grip­ping her hatc­het re­ady to use and had Sid’s cha­in-le­ash wrap­ped firm in her ot­her hand. I had my su­it­ca­se, now full of all the fo­od I co­uld pack in­si­de it in my left hand and the sword held po­int down in my right hand. We we­re re­ady to ma­ke a run ahe­ad of us to the last tra­in on the track. We hit the gro­und run­ning as fast as we co­uld, es­pe­ci­al­ly Sid. I ma­de it a po­int to ta­ke the le­ad for the gho­uls that ca­me af­ter us. I to­ok ups­wings at the gho­uls te­aring thro­ugh them or just knoc­king them down. It was just eno­ugh as we kept run­ning and re­ac­hed our new ri­de - fo­ur en­gi­nes and fi­ve tan­ker cars. Beth and Sid got in­si­de qu­ickly. Beth star­ted the en­gi­ne - glad I ta­ught her be­ca­use a gho­ul snag­ged my fo­ot, trip­ping me. It was leg-less and craw­ling un­der the en­gi­ne. I cut its hand off, but it kept co­ming. As so­on as I lif­ted the sword to ta­ke anot­her swing, Beth had bac­ked the en­gi­ne a bit and crus­hed the gho­ul in half at mid-tor­so. I jum­ped up and ma­de my way in­to the en­gi­ne. Beth lo­oked a bit fre­aked. I think it was be­ca­use she didn’t even me­an to mo­ve the tra­in at all. I just smi­led at her and than­ked her with a kiss. I to­ok over the cont­rols, got the tra­in pus­hing for­ward and chec­ked the en­gi­ne fu­el. We’re fi­ne, and ac­cor­ding the ra­il­ro­ad map, we’re still he­ading west.

  DAY - 28

  The cur­rent tra­in ri­de has be­en qu­ite sce­nic. The track fol­lo­wed the Kan­sas Ri­ver for qu­ite a whi­le just as the map sta­tes. This track has us of­fi­ci­al­ly on co­ur­se to the Pa­ci­fic Ra­il­ro­ad. The­re we­re mo­re flat­lands and lots of farms aro­und - pretty much all the eye co­uld see. Lo­oking ahe­ad tho­ugh, we saw dis­tant hills. I truly lo­ok for­ward to re­ac­hing the mo­un­ta­ins be­yond tho­se hills. I still think it’s the only pla­ce we’ll truly be sa­fe.

  By dusk, we re­ac­hed the west brid­ge that cros­ses the Kan­sas Ri­ver and in­to the city of To­pe­ka. That’s when all hell bro­ke lo­ose. We had no cho­ice but to stop the tra­in right in the mid­dle of the brid­ge. Abo­ut a hund­red fe­et ahe­ad of whe­re we stop­ped was a pas­sen­ger tra­in, stop­ped and bloc­king the last few yards of the brid­ge. I ma­de my way to the top of the en­gi­ne aga­in to lo­ok ahe­ad. I co­uld see that the pas­sen­ger tra­in was one en­gi­ne and ni­ne cars. I de­ci­ded to conf­ront Beth with anot­her tra­in hop­ping op­ti­on, but that it was con­tin­gent on re­mo­ving all pos­sib­le un­de­ad pas­sen­gers still on the tra­in.

  She po­ked me in the chest and then held her one in­dex fin­ger at me. She re­pe­ated this se­ve­ral ti­mes un­til I gu­es­sed what she was trying to say - “ you first. “ I ag­re­ed tho­ugh. I wo­uld ta­ke the le­ad. Beth de­ci­ded we sho­uld le­ave Sid in the en­gi­ne. I ag­re­ed. I wan­ted him sa­fe and so­mew­hat gu­ar­ding things. I grab­bed the sword, and Beth grab­bed her hatc­het. We ma­de our way up to the pas­sen­ger tra­in and en­te­red thro­ugh its back do­or, which to­ok a go­od bud­ge to get open. It was the bag­ga­ge car - no pat­rons to worry abo­ut. We im­me­di­ately had the sa­me idea and be­gan ope­ning every bit of lug­ga­ge for things we co­uld use. I even­tu­al­ly ma­de my way to a wo­oden cra­te on its way out west to so­me­one in Den­ver, Co­lo­ra­do. The pac­king slip is what re­al­ly ca­ught my cu­ri­osity tho­ugh - GE­NE­RAL AUT­HEN­TICS & CO. I knew the na­me ins­tantly. They ma­ke rep­li­ca fi­re­arms and bla­des. My fat­her wo­uld get the­ir ca­ta­logs when he was in­to Ci­vil War re-enact­ments, and the guns re­al­ly wor­ked. I grab­bed Beth’s hatc­het and was­ted no ti­me in ope­ning the cra­te. Ob­vi­o­usly so­me col­lec­tor or­de­red a pa­ir of 1873 Cal­vary is­sue, six shot re­vol­vers - with am­mo.

  This chan­ged my plan, so I grab­bed Beth and the guns and went back to our tra­in. To­mor­row mor­ning I plan on cle­aring out the pas­sen­ger tra­in much easi­er. I'm af­ra­id it's go­ing to de­pend on how go­od a shot I am with the­se hand can­nons, tho­ugh. Still, one shot from the­se sho­uld ta­ke a he­ad cle­an off.

  DAY - 29

  At dayb­re­ak I was out fid­dling with my new pis­tols. It to­ok me a few mi­nu­tes to fi­gu­re out how to lo­ad them and then anot­her few mi­nu­tes to get the co­ura­ge to fi­re them. The ro­unds are.45 ca­li­ber, and I had he­ard many sto­ri­es of how much they can kick. Still, I fi­red a ro­und of each gun in­to the pas­sen­ger tra­in's bag­ga­ge car. I can’t be­li­eve how much my ears we­re rin­ging or how big ho­les we­re they put in­to the bag­ga­ge car. My wrists felt a lit­tle so­re as well. Beth and Sid both emer­ged lo­oking qu­ite pis­sed that I had awa­ke­ned them with the lo­ud gun­fi­re, so I apo­lo­gi­zed. I de­ci­ded to go ahe­ad with my new plan and hel­ped Beth get re­ady. We left Sid in the en­gi­ne aga­in. I sho­wed Beth how to lo­ad the pis­tols. I plan­ned to use them one at a ti­me un­til empty whi­le Beth sto­od be­hind me and re­lo­aded the ot­her.

  Fi­nal­ly, we star­ted in on cle­aring the tra­in. We en­te­red the bag­ga­ge car aga­in and bust the do­or open in­to the co­ach­se­ating car. The­re we­re se­ve­ral gho­uls al­re­ady wa­iting in­si­de - li­ke dogs that we­re to be re­le­ased from the­ir ken­nels. They im­me­di­ately ca­me for us. The en­ti­re si­te of them sca­red Beth that she si­des­tep­ped and ba­si­cal­ly fell down the sta­irs le­ading to the di­ning un­der­car­ri­age of the car. I fol­lo­wed af­ter her.

  Luc­kily the­re we­re no gho­uls in the sec­ti­on be­low, but they we­re ma­king the­ir way from abo­ve. I hel­ped her to her fe­et, and we ma­de our way ac­ross the car to a ves­ti­bu­le area. Our backs aga­inst the wall, li­te­ral­ly, I had to sho­ot out a win­dow for our es­ca­pe. I wasn’t lo­oking, but Beth had ta­ken off with one pis­tol and all of the am­mo back to our tra­in. I, with only fi­ve shots left in my pis­tol, ran along­si­de the pas­sen­ger tra­in to its en­gi­ne. It wasn't un­til I re­ac­hed the en­gi­ne that I re­ali­zed that Beth wasn’t be­hind me. I saw her en­ter our tra­in en­gi­ne sa­fely and then wit­nes­sed an out­po­uring of gho­uls from the win­dow I shot out. I was for­ced to ma­ke a de­ci­si­on I didn’t want to ini­ti­al­ly. I bo­ar­ded in­to the pas­sen­ger tra­in's en­gi­ne that I knew co­uld con­ta­in se­ve­ral gho­uls. Al­so the­re co­uld be the open do­or with ac­cess to the rest of the tra­in - mo­re gho­uls.

  I did it any­way. On­ce in­si­de, the­re we­re only two gho­uls in the back of the en­gi­ne. Two shots and I blew hu­ge chunks out of the­ir he­ads drop­ping them both. I shut and used the fe­eb­le lock of the do­or at the back of the en­gi­ne. Kno­wing the lock was we­ak to a pos­sib­le rush of gho­uls, I ac­ted qu­ickly in star­ting up the en­gi­ne. I set it for 25 mph, got it run­ning go­od and jum­ped out of the en­gi­ne on­to the gro­und. Beth had our tra­in run­ning al­re­ady, chug­ging for­ward. It was slow go­ing but fast eno­ugh to get away from the gho­uls cha­sing it and al­so he­ading my way. Beth was out on the walk­way wa­ving fo
r me. I had to limp fast and ditch the pis­tol to fully pull myself on bo­ard. I'm thin­king I bro­ke my right fo­ot.

  DAY - 30

  Beth was very ca­ring last night, but I kept tel­ling her not to worry with me. I can de­al with the pa­in, and surp­ri­singly, I ha­ve de­alt with it very well. I awo­ke ear­li­er than Sid or Beth as usu­al and de­ci­ded to ta­ke off my shoe and sock to get a go­od lo­ok at it. My every toe is black and blue and swol­len. I co­uld fe­el it throb­bing that tells me the bre­ak is just abo­ve whe­re my big toe and the one next to it me­et. Still, tho­ugh, the pa­in isn’t as bad as it was yes­ter­day. That's a plus. I put fi­ve socks on my bro­ken fo­ot and wrap­ped it a bit with duct ta­pe. It’s ac­tu­al­ly a com­for­tab­le sort of pro­tec­ti­on.

  Beth and Sid jo­ined me in watc­hing the pas­sen­ger tra­in ahe­ad of us. It was ba­si­cal­ly le­ading us down the track. Every now and then a gho­ul wo­uld ma­ke its way out of the win­dow I had shot out, and they wo­uld fall be­ne­ath the tra­in get­ting split in half or get thrown for a go­od dis­tan­ce. We la­ug­hed our as­ses off whi­le Sid bar­ked so­me for go­od me­asu­re. I had anot­her go­od lo­ok at the ra­il­ro­ad map. To­pe­ka, KS was long be­hind us, and Co­lo­ra­do was in our sights. Had I just gi­ven the pas­sen­ger tra­in a hig­her spe­ed, we may al­re­ady be in Co­lo­ra­do. I just ho­pe the pas­sen­ger tra­in go­es un­til the end of the li­ne in Ca­li­for­nia and do­esn't run in­to anot­her tra­in cre­ating a big ass mess. We sho­uld be fi­ne if we get well past Den­ver and in­to the Rocky Mo­un­ta­in ran­ge. I can’t say that I’m re­ady to go hi­king just yet, but I’m su­re as shit get­ting sick of this tra­in.

  La­te af­ter­no­on bro­ught us anot­her chan­ge in luck. Our tra­in had met up with the pas­sen­ger tra­in and was ba­si­cal­ly pus­hing it. So­me­how the pas­sen­ger tra­in was lo­sing spe­ed - the gho­uls may ha­ve got­ten to the cont­rols. I bo­os­ted our tra­in's spe­ed to 50 mph, tho­ugh I don’t think we we­re re­al­ly top­ping 40 mph. Sud­denly a new plan ca­me to me, and I put it in­to ac­ti­on des­pi­te Beth sha­king her he­ad, " NO. " I im­me­di­ately grab­bed our re­ma­ining pis­tol and Beth’s hatc­het and lim­ped my way out on the front of our en­gi­ne’s nar­row walk­way. I stretc­hed out as far as I co­uld and fi­nal­ly jum­ped thro­ugh the bag­ga­ge car do­or. On­ce in the bag­ga­ge car I ma­de has­te to the out­si­de front of it and to its con­nec­ti­on jo­int. I chop­ped the ho­ses lo­ose and strug­gled un­til I un­loc­ked the jo­int. I then ma­de way to the back of the car and sig­na­led Beth to stop our tra­in. My plan wor­ked. The ve­lo­city and we­ight of the rest of the pas­sen­ger tra­in pul­led away from the bag­ga­ge car and kept go­ing furt­her down the track. It went far eno­ugh down the track that we co­uld ba­rely see it, but it did lo­ok as if it ca­me to a stop. Now that the pas­sen­ger tra­in is sta­ti­onary on our track, I'm gon­na ne­ed a plan to try and de­ra­il the damn thing - anot­her dam­ned sle­ep­less night, I ima­gi­ne.

  DAY - 31

  All night long, Beth and I we­re skit­tish abo­ut sle­eping. We fe­ared that the re­ma­ining gho­uls from the pas­sen­ger tra­in wo­uld ma­ke the­ir way to us so­me­ti­me in the night. With our tra­in be­ing sta­ti­onary they co­uld ha­ve got­ten in­si­de. Co­me dawn, our fe­ars we­re only half-re­ali­zed. The­re we­re se­ve­ral gho­uls ma­king the­ir way to our tra­in, but they we­re scat­te­red abo­ut and lum­be­ring aro­und - easy pic­kings.

  By No­on, a new plan was set in­to ac­ti­on. I lim­ped to the ra­iled walk­way out­si­de the en­gi­ne. Beth was be­hind the en­gi­ne cont­rols and was slowly pus­hing the bag­ga­ge car down the tracks. We we­re only go­ing abo­ut 5 mph, so it was my job to go from si­de to si­de on the tra­in's walk­way swi­ping away po­ten­ti­al strag­glers. The dam­ned gho­uls tri­ed it, too. They star­ted to co­me af­ter our tra­in. So­me at­temp­ted get­ting a hold of the bag­ga­ge car but then fell and we­re drag­ged a ways or we­re ca­ught un­der the whe­els. The sa­me thing oc­cur­red with the car­go cars of our tra­in, but for the ones that ca­ught on­to the front en­gi­ne, I got back in­to the swing of things. They we­re all at the per­fect le­vel for re­mo­ving the­ir he­ads. Then I no­ti­ced that the­re we­re a num­ber of gho­uls pul­ling them­sel­ves abo­ard our ot­her three en­gi­nes - not go­od - I co­uldn’t re­ach them. The walk­ways don't go all the way aro­und to the back of the en­gi­ne, so that al­so me­ans that tho­se gho­uls we­ren't a thre­at to re­ach us as long as we kept mo­ving.

  Beth stop­ped our tra­in just as I plan­ned for her to - abo­ut twenty yards be­hind the sta­ti­onary pas­sen­ger tra­in - the bag­ga­ge car left the­re in po­si­ti­on. Beth im­me­di­ately star­ted bac­king us up at a fas­ter spe­ed. Mo­re gho­uls to­ok a chan­ce to bo­ard the en­gi­nes whi­le we we­re mo­men­ta­rily stop­ped, so I had to ma­ke qu­ic­ker work of them cut­ting off wha­te­ver parts it to­ok to ha­ve them fall off. Beth stop­ped our tra­in aga­in af­ter a whi­le and star­ted us back go­ing for­ward - this ti­me at a much fas­ter spe­ed. I rus­hed back in­si­de the en­gi­ne, and we all bra­ced for our plan­ned re­sult - ho­ping it wor­ked. A mi­nu­te la­ter and our tra­in be­ca­me a bat­te­ring ram. We struck the bag­ga­ge car with such for­ce that it sho­ved it vi­olently in­to the pas­sen­ger tra­in. That, along with our tra­in still bar­re­ling for­ward was eno­ugh to comp­le­tely de­ra­il the pas­sen­ger tra­in.

  A mo­ment la­ter and I step­ped out on the walk­way to as­sess our tra­in's da­ma­ge. It was bus­ted up a lot but still se­emed to be run­ning strong. I lo­oked back to our ot­her en­gi­nes - no mo­re gho­uls - pro­bably all knoc­ked off in the hu­ge im­pact.

  Other than the so­re­ness in my fo­ot, I can smi­le as we are fas­ter he­ading west for the mo­un­ta­ins.

  DAY - 32

  Appa­rently I had the tra­in go­ing too fast over­night. We ha­ve al­re­ady en­te­red the sta­te of Co­lo­ra­do, and I can truly say that upon en­te­ring the area, one fe­els the inc­re­ase in terms of “ abo­ve sea le­vel.” Beth de­fi­ni­tely felt a dec­re­ase in the out­si­de tem­pe­ra­tu­re. She’s be­en cud­dling ne­arer Sid and I for warmth. I don’t exactly mind the cud­dling, tho­ugh. She’s a lo­vely girl, and it ta­kes so­me of the at­ten­ti­on away from my fo­ot.

  At mid­day I was for­ced to stop our tra­in. The­re’s anot­her stal­led tra­in on our tracks - a car­go tra­in. I'm just glad we didn't co­me ac­ross any stal­led tra­ins in our sle­ep. I don't think the­re's any way our tra­in co­uld sur­vi­ve anot­her he­ad-on col­li­si­on. All of which me­ans I ha­ve to plan for so­met­hing ot­her than de­ra­iling our new obs­tac­le.

  Accor­ding to what I see on the ra­il­ro­ad map and so­me of the signs in the town that's only a hund­red yards or so away, we ha­ve re­ac­hed Che­yen­ne Wells, Co­lo­ra­do. We're just in­si­de the Co­lo­ra­do Sta­te li­ne. I grab­bed my sword and got out­si­de to the gro­und, lo­oking abo­ut the area. Tho­ugh the map con­fir­med that we’re way abo­ve sea le­vel, the sce­nery is still flat­lands - hills in the dis­tan­ce. Beth didn’t want out in the cold air, but Sid did. Sid lo­ved it and to­ok off run­ning abo­ut truly enj­oying his play­ti­me. I was happy for him, but wo­uld've be­en hap­pi­er if he was pa­ying at­ten­ti­on as I had co­un­ted on him in pre­vi­o­us ti­mes. I qu­ickly fo­und myself tur­ning aro­und to the mo­aning of three gho­uls who must ha­ve be­en hol­ding on to the tra­in sin­ce yes­ter­day. The­ir limbs lo­oked worn, and they we­re very slow mo­ving. The cold air was se­emingly slo­wing them just as I ho­ped for - pro­bably ne­ar fre­ezing from the wind and spe­ed of the tra­in. I pul­led my sword and then Sid star­ted his yel­ping and grow­ling. I was shoc­ked to find that dis­po­sing them wasn’t as easy as be­fo­re. My first swing re­sul�
�ted in lod­ging the sword half­way in­to the first gho­ul’s neck. It was li­ke I tri­ed to cut thro­ugh a ti­re.

  Beth hur­ri­ed down from the tra­in and bu­ri­ed her hatc­het in anot­her gho­ul’s he­ad, ta­king it down, but her hatc­het stuck firm al­so. She luc­kily had the pis­tol, too, and was ab­le to use it to sho­ot the ot­her gho­ul in its fa­ce drop­ping it. I kept strug­gling with my lod­ged sword, not wan­ting to re­li­ve the last sce­na­rio when my sword was stuck. Beth wan­ted to sho­ot, but I didn't want her pos­sibly sho­oting the bla­de. I slung the gho­ul to the gro­und on its si­de - the sword ed­ge po­in­ting down. I ins­tantly tho­ught to kick the bla­de of the sword down­ward un­til it fi­nal­ly cut thro­ugh the gho­ul's he­ad. Then I no­ti­ced that I had ac­tu­al­ly used my bro­ken fo­ot to do the kic­king - I'm an idi­ot. Beth hel­ped me back in the en­gi­ne - Sid fol­lo­wed. To­night will pro­bably be a cold one, but I can’t jus­tify using the en­gi­ne’s fu­el just to run the he­at - not yet.

  DAY - 33

  I co­uldn’t even sle­ep. Beth and Sid we­re out in no ti­me and hud­dled to­get­her for warmth. It's still win­ter, so the­re’s no qu­ick end to this cold we­at­her eit­her. Then I no­ti­ced that it be­gan to snow. It co­ve­red the gro­und qu­ick, and a thin sle­et be­gan stic­king to the tra­in. I knew right away that things had just wor­se­ned for us. I star­ted thin­king that so­me things in Che­yen­ne Wells we­re go­ing to ha­ve to be ta­ken for us to sur­vi­ve.

 

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