Z-Railed

by Holcomb, Joshua

  He wheeled around to the two men that looked like they knew guns a little bit. "Get up in those towers on the gates and see if you can slow their advance on us! Do it now!" They hurried to comply. "Wounded out the gate first!"

  The deserter still lay on the ground, nursing his crushed nose, and groaning about how he'd never be able to smell a rotter coming again. Franklin stepped over him and hunkered back down behind his barrel, as men continued to pour back into them, bottlenecking the gate. He gritted his teeth as he looked at the mess unfolding next to him, and then heard the men in the towers open up on the Company's advance. Screaming and shoving, men panicked as they strove to reach the open ground beyond the gates, pushing many up against wall. Franklin watched as the walls wavered and gave way. "The towers--," he whispered as they collapsed along with the men in them. Men clambered over the fallen walls and headed for safety.

  "Keep covering the retreat!" he tried to yell above the noise. In the smoke and commotion, he saw Audrey retreating, anger still raging in her eyes. "Where's Fields?" he shouted to her.

  "He's dead! Took a bullet in the chest and that's when everything unraveled!" she shouted back. She took a bead on a Company goon and squeezed the trigger. "That's when the shi--". Her phrase remained unfinished as a chunk of lead caught the left side of her forehead and slammed her head backwards. She staggered for a second, shocked, looking blankly at Franklin with her mouth open. Her blonde hair, streaked with grime from the fighting, was now stained red with her blood. She tried to say something to Franklin as she fell, but though her mouth moved, no words came out. She landed in a heap next to him, her gaping skull oozing scrambled brains and blood.

  A wave of frustration washed over Franklin as he also began to move back, still trying to cover the retreat for the few remaining stragglers. Men continued to fall as the Company soldiers sprayed the area outside the gates as they retreated into the darkness. A bullet whistled by Franklin's head while another stung his left forearm, grazing him. Blood oozed from the groove dug by the metal jacketed lead, but he didn't notice as he continued back to the rendezvous point. Upon arriving, he noticed wounded men screaming and others sitting silently, staring blankly. Rotters attracted by the screams of the wounded began straggling in while a group of weary fighters knocked them over the head with clubs.

  Franklin struck an imposing picture despite his average height. Blood dripped from his left hand and trickled down his right cheek from a small shrapnel wound. His beard waved in the light night breeze, and his right hand still gripped his rifle tightly. Surveying the situation, Franklin took charge. He stood on top of a deuce and a half and shouted hoarsely, "Wounded in the middle! Stack up bodies on the edges, make a wall! We need to ride out the night! Do you want to survive the fight to get bit in your sleep?! Get the lead out of your pants and move!"

  Men sprang to action, stacking bodies of destroyed rotters and other debris in a perimeter around them, their backs to a solid brick wall. Franklin walked the makeshift camp, barking orders on the fly, telling men to organize a watch through the night, and making preparations for the continued retreat in the morning.

  Several hours later, Franklin sat on the cot in the tent once occupied by the late Fields. His heart was still beating wildly, so he took a couple deep breaths and laid down. With his right hand still gripping his pistol on his chest, he slowly felt his heart rate settle, and exhausted, descended into a deep, but not calm, sleep.

  * * *

  At daylight, Franklin awoke to the sound of the camp stirring. Birds chirped and the smell of wood smoke permeated his tent. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought that he was back camping in the Red River Gorge with a few buddies. He shook the cobwebs from his brain and sat up, his body screaming in protest with the aches and pains gained from the night before. He stretched and then put his jeans back on, noting grimly the blood stains on them and briefly wondering whether if it was his blood or another's. Standing gingerly to his feet, he stepped into his boots, and then buttoned his shirt. Stretching again, he allowed himself a brief groan before taking a swig of water from a canteen and stepping outside his tent.

  For a brief moment, he surveyed the camp. Smoke lazily rose from the dying embers of several campfires, wounded lay in the beds of trucks, and people moved to and fro packing up the trucks in preparation for the move. A man stepped up to his left and spoke softly, "Sir, we're about ready to go, but you're going to have to guide us to somewhere safe. We don't know this area, and the Company is most likely going to be watching the routes back to St. Louis."

  Franklin nodded. "My group has a stockade east of here. Problem is that Jesse at the Company knows where it is, since he used to be a part of us. I'm sure he'll want retribution, knowing that it still exists and isn't under his control." He paused, contemplating what was probably going to happen. He turned to the man. "Are you willing to reinforce us?"

  "I can't speak for everyone," the man said, still softly, "but I know that myself and many others will want another crack at the Company. We lost a lot of friends--". His voice choked and trailed off as tears welled up in his eyes. He looked down at his boots and wiped his eyes.

  Franklin put his left hand on the man's shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze. He looked kindly at him and said, "Whether we like it or not, I'm sure we'll get a chance for that. They're going to hunt us down until they eliminate all threats, but we have some time to prepare. Let's do that and then we'll get our shot."

  He turned from the man and announced to the camp, "Listen up! We're convoying out! No one is forced to come with, but I am planning on leading whoever is willing to a stockade east of here! The Company is probably going to try to take us out, so let's work together and make it hard for them! Break camp!"

  * * *

  Jesse stormed into Adelaide's office and slammed a clipboard down onto her desk with enough force to break the clip off. Adelaide jumped at the sound and looked up.

  "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" she exclaimed as she shot him a dirty look.

  "That attack last night hurt us bad! With the revolt in St. Louis, we can't handle much more of this! Look at those numbers there," he shouted, gesturing in frustration to the clipboard he just chucked onto her desk.

  "I don't need those numbers," she replied evenly. "And what's with this 'we'? You're the one who started that revolution in St. Louis."

  A dark look clouded Jesse's face, and his eyes glittered with anger. He slapped both his palms on the desk and leaned over towards Adelaide. "Me?! Me!?" he spat. "I'm not the imbecile that shot that girl and made her a martyr!"

  "Well, let's not quibble over the inconsequential," she remarked smoothly, putting her right hand on one of his.

  Jesse calmed slightly as her touch distracted him from Adelaide's accusation. "Well, uh, we still need--aren't in good shape right now," he stammered.

  She smiled and looked into his eyes, "Jesse, Jesse, haven't you learned anything from me yet? This is just a minor set-back! We will recover, eliminate this new threat, and come back more powerful than ever!"

  Jesse's remaining frustration melted away as Adelaide's turquoise eyes entranced him. "Ok," he sighed and slid his fingers into her hands. "What are we--."

  Jesse's question was interrupted as one of the Company goons burst into the office, and said, "I have the report from--. Oh, sorry, Ms. Webster, I didn't know you were busy--."

  "It's ok!" she replied, annoyance present on her face, as she removed her hands from Jesse's. "What did you find out?"

  "Well, aside from the damage and personnel losses that were already reported to Jesse, we found out that the guy exiled-- the one that was buddies with him there," he paused and pointed at Jesse, "led the retreat last night."

  Adelaide sat back in her chair and exhaled slowly. She looked at Jesse and then back at the goon. She dismissed him with a wave of her hand and then slowly stood up. "Jesse," she said in a low voice, "we need to bury him this time, even if it takes all we got!"

 
; XIX

  Fort Regeneration

  Franklin got out of the military truck at the gates of his stockade. Charred remnants of wood were scattered around the front, but the gates themselves were of fresh wood. He smiled in appreciation. Jacob popped his head up over the wall in the new tower and shouted a greeting.

  Franklin waved back and yelled, "It's good to be home!"

  The gates swung open and everyone was received with a hero's welcome. Seth ran to Franklin screaming, "Daddy! Mommy!" With tears streaming down their faces, Jackie and Franklin wrapped their arms around him and squeezed him tightly.

  The reunion couldn’t last long, however. Soon, it was back to work preparing for the attack that they knew would quickly come.

  * * *

  Franklin gingerly used his pocket knife to dig into the quarter sized blister on his palm. The sudden release of pressure and fluid sent a tingle of relief mixed with pain through his hand. He quickly singed his blade in the flame of his lantern and then finished his work on the wound. When he was satisfied with the surgery, he wrapped his hand up in an old t-shirt bandage and drew in a large breath.

  "You were working harder on those logs than a one-legged man in a butt-kicking contest," Jacob, who was on watch duty, said. "I'm surprised you don't have more blisters than that."

  "Eh, it's no big deal," Franklin muttered in response. He peered intently into the darkness. "Seen any sign?"

  "No man... You know I'd holler if I did." He placed his hand on Franklin's shoulder. "I know you're stressed. You really should try to relax."

  "Tell me, Jacob, how am I supposed to relax with everything that's happened? We're all going to be dead soon. Everything I've fought and strived for will be gone."

  "But you're still here, Franklin! You of all people should realize how fortunate you are. You've beaten all odds and have done good in this wretched new world! And you found Jackie and brought her back!"

  "Yes, but in the process I lost Tyler and Katelyn is nowhere to be found... Now Jesse is on his way to annihilate us. I never should have come back here."

  "You couldn't have known, Franklin," Jacob tried to encourage. "Jesse made his own choices. It's not your fault."

  "But I returned and Jesse knows where I would have fled to after that stupid massacre in Louisville. You guys are already as good as dead."

  "We are willing to stand with you, Franklin. Besides, it would have only been a matter of time until somebody attacked us anyway. I'd rather have you here leading us in a situation like that."

  "You're too kind..." Franklin's voice trailed off as he stared into the darkness. "Nonetheless, the end is near." A tear slid from his eye as he hung his head in shame.

  "Franklin," Jacob finally said, after a long silence, "you should go be with Jackie tonight. If this is indeed our demise, you need to be with her. Don't waste your night up here with me."

  Franklin wiped his face on his sleeve. "Yeah, you're right. There's no sense feeling sorry for myself. It is what it is." He rubbed his injured hands together and spat over the edge of the wall. After gazing at the night sky one last time he slowly climbed down the ladder and walked back towards the farmhouse.

  Crickets chirped and danced through the grass as Franklin walked across the overgrown vegetation. He shuffled up the front steps and quietly opened the door and headed upstairs.

  The dim light from an oil lantern illuminated Jackie's figure as she sat in a wooden chair, brushing her hair in front of a mirror. She glimpsed Franklin approaching from behind and turned around to meet him.

  "You're back early; you decided to not stand watch?"

  "Jacob sent me away," Franklin replied stoically. He stood unmoving as he struggled with his words. "Jackie..."

  Jackie set down her brush and stood up in front of her husband. "What is it Franklin?"

  "I... failed you, Jackie. I failed you as a husband." Tears began flowing down Franklin's cheeks as he lost the ability to control his emotions.

  "Nonsense, honey," Jackie replied soothingly. "You overcame incredible odds to come and find me! And you did! I never thought I'd be back in this house with you!"

  "You know... I never thought I could forgive myself after Tyler died. I was so close to getting you and then my brash anger and thirst for revenge got in the way and I lost you! I got that boy killed... I found myself hiding in a closet with old weaponry and alcohol. I almost killed myself, Jackie! The only reason I'm not dead is because I was so drunk I lost my ammunition."

  "But you are here now, Franklin! The past is the past! Please try to see that. You're not a failure." She cupped her hands around Franklin's face and continued, "Look at me, Franklin. You came back for me, and you saved me. I couldn't ask for a better and more heroic man than you! You can't blame yourself for Jesse's choices, or what happened to Tyler. I will never stop loving you. Do you understand?"

  Franklin nodded and stifled the remaining tears.

  "I love you, Franklin." She looked deeply into his eyes and then slowly brought her lips to his. The salty taste of tears greeted her taste buds as she began passionately kissing him. Only once did she pull away to gently whisper, "I'm so glad I have you back."

  XX

  The morning sun broke through the scattered clouds in the sky and it quickly began burning off the dew that had settled overnight. Large clouds of water vapor rose through the countryside, and scattered portions of the warming rays of sunlight split through the vapor into spectacular prisms of color. Birds and squirrels, high above in the tops of the trees, were oblivious to the menacing evil lurking below as hundreds upon hundreds of the rotting feeders stumbled through the deciduous growth.

  The monsters were kept moving by three ATV's as the drivers expertly drove their rigs through the forest. They slowed down and sped up as necessary in order to keep the feeders hot on their tail. The giant herd slowly grew in number as more were added from the surrounding area, caused by all the noise and commotion.

  Minutes later the drivers finally broke through to an old gravel road, only one lane wide. The feeders followed the men as they spat gravel behind them and roared towards a group of three heavily armored SUV's. They pulled up to the lead vehicle and the driver quickly rolled down the window.

  "Looks like you've got a large group behind you," Adelaide Webster mused.

  "Think it will do the job?" One of the ATV riders asked, checking over his shoulder to make sure they were still a safe distance from the feeders.

  "It will be more than enough when we make use of our little present," Jesse chimed in, a sick smile spread across his face. "Franklin is going to regret ever meddling in our operation."

  "Okay boss, let's do this," another one of the riders exclaimed, anxious to put some more distance between himself and the hungry feeders. "We know the game plan. Their stockade is only another half mile down this road."

  "Then what are we waiting for?" Adelaide smirked. "The time for retribution is at hand!"

  The group of vehicles set on the move once again, with the mass of rotten flesh following close behind. It only took another ten minutes before they covered the remaining ground to Franklin's stockade. The convoy came to a halt at the edge of the clearing and a few men exited one of the SUV's.

  "It's all yours, Jesse," one of them called out, as they split up and climbed into the remaining vehicles.

  "Excellent," Jesse replied, as he picked up a remote control. He carefully tested the switches and squirmed with joy like a child playing with a toy train for the first time, as the empty SUV responded perfectly to his every command. "Looks like our engineers did a good job."

  "Then let it begin," Adelaide commanded.

  * * *

  Jacob's eyes were heavy with exhaustion. He struggled to stay awake as he glanced at his watch. 6:55. Only another five minutes and somebody would be up to relieve him from his night watch shift. Then he could at long last get some much needed sleep.

  Jacob scanned the horizon one last time and was about to begin packing up
his things when, at the last second, a flash of light caught his eye. He squinted in the bright glare of the morning sun and suddenly a vehicle materialized out of the haze. It didn't take long before he spotted two more, except the third one was traveling at a higher rate of speed as it broke into the clearing. It was headed straight for the stockade wall.

  Jacob fumbled for a second before hoisting his gun into the air and firing three quick bursts.

  * * *

  Franklin's eyes snapped open at the sound of the shots. His body turned rigid as the loud sound temporarily paralyzed his body. No more shots followed, so he could only assume it was the predetermined warning they had all agreed upon.

  Jackie was awake too. She turned to Franklin and asked, "What was that?"

  "It must be time," Franklin responded, still lying motionless as his groggy mind struggled to grasp the situation. He opened his mouth to speak to Jackie again, but a massive explosion, followed by the sound of shattering wood, metal, and breaking glass cut him off.

  * * *

  Jacob had watched in horror as the SUV gained speed, and quickly covered the distance between the edge of the clearing and the stockade wall. Three men guarding the other walls quickly rushed over in response to the gunshots and Jacob's frantic shouting.

  He saw the SUV was heading right for the wall, just to the right of the main gate, which wasn't more than a heavy iron gate placed on wheels and surrounded by barb wire and trenches filled with punji sticks.

  "This guy knows what he's doing," Jacob muttered. "He's aiming right for the portion weakened when Steven had set fire to the stockade wall."

  It only took another two seconds and then the SUV rocketed into the wooden log wall with so much force it drove the entire engine block of the vehicle into the cab. The force of the impact knocked Jacob over the top, and outside the stockade. As he fell he heard the splintering sound of tortured wood, but the wall held.

  At the same instant Jacob hit the damp ground, face first, a massive explosion ripped through the morning air. The excruciating noise burst his ear drums and flaming chunks of wood and corrugated aluminum began raining down all around him.