by Dirk Patton
A moment after flaring into a hover both Apaches opened up with their chain guns, each directing their fire in a path to the side of the train that was closest to the infected. The ground erupted and everything that was hit disintegrated. I could make out the occasional body part fly through the air, mostly arms and legs. The problem with the infected, as I had learned, is that they don’t stop coming just because the ones in front of them are blown into a cloud of pink mist. The only way to stop them was to keep shooting until there weren’t any left. Apaches can carry up to 1,200 rounds of ammo for the chain gun, but at a rate of fire greater than 300 rounds per minute that’s less than a four minute supply. Of course they don’t fire continuously, the gunners having to let the guns cool, but they still burned through their full load of ammo before the rear of the trains passed out of the station.
They bought the necessary time, however, as the trains were both now moving too fast for any of the infected to grab on and climb aboard. I watched several females make leaps at the passing train, all but one failing to get a grip and bouncing off to tumble on the ground. The one that did get a grip on a guard rail at the rear of a passenger car had her arm yanked completely free from her body which tumbled to the ground and wound up rolling under the big, steel wheels and being cut into pieces. I could still see the arm hanging from the rail, the hand having locked in a grip, the last position the brain had told it to take.
“Sir, our ride’s here.” The Captain’s voice drew my attention from the battle and I looked up as a Black Hawk hove into view, hanging in the air over the roof of the station.
“Let’s go, gentlemen. There’s nothing more we can do here.” Crawford turned and marched inside the building, not looking to see if we were following.
23
The Colonel led the way to a janitor’s closet that had a steel ladder leading straight up to a hatch set into the ceiling. Climbing easily, he paused at the top to work the release mechanism before shoving the hatch all the way open. A blast of air from the Black Hawk’s rotor drove a large amount of rain into our faces as we climbed the ladder. The roof was steep and gabled, slippery from the rain and all of us moved in a crouch with one hand also touching to help with balance and grip. The Black Hawk pilot moved into a hover with the side door adjacent to a high point and we scrambled up and into the helicopter the way only men accustomed to unusual boardings could. Once we were on board with safety tethers attached, the pilot spun us around and brought us over the rear of the trains, about 300 feet in the air.
The two trains were running parallel to each other, the one on the right maintaining a steady speed as the one on the left accelerated. I worked a set of head phones over my ears so I could communicate on the intercom.
“Hey, Master Sergeant. How far before those tracks converge?” They might be running parallel now, but that’s because we were in an urban area. In rural areas the railroads would generally only have one track that would branch out as it came into cities.
“About 20 miles. The switch gear is already set and we’ve got a couple of Apaches on station to make sure no one screws with it.” Sometimes I absolutely loved the Army.
I still wanted to hear the story of Fort Campbell, but when I looked around Crawford and Captain Blanchard were in a deep conversation over a tablet computer the Captain held in his lap. Not feeling like trying to insert myself into their tete-a-tete I moved closer to the open side door, staying back enough to avoid the worst of the wind whipped rain, and looked down at the train. Lightning flashed, momentarily lighting the world and I didn’t like what I saw. I called the pilot on the intercom and had him turn on a spotlight and focus it on the train below us.
Dozens of infected females were clinging to the sides of many of the cars and a fairly large group of them had made it onto the roofs of several cars and were roaming about looking for a way into the smorgasbord beneath their feet. As I watched, one of them lay down and leaned over the side, finding an open window that she quickly slithered through. Shit. A lot of these people weren’t going to be armed and wouldn’t have a good way of fighting off the females. Before I could say or do anything another one followed and disappeared inside the train.
“We’ve got infected on the train, going in windows.” I called out over the intercom. A moment later Crawford moved next to me and looked out the open door.
Moving back into the cabin I checked a couple of equipment lockers and found a coiled fast rope. Fast roping is normally only done out of a stable, hovering helicopter. Trying to do it out of one in flight onto a moving platform, slick from rain like the roof of the train is downright insane, but that’s what I was going to do. Those people in the train needed someone down there that could help in a fight.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Crawford asked, looking at the rope I was busily securing to the helicopter.
“I’m going down there, sir.” I checked the connection of the rope and tugged as hard as my weakened hands would allow to test it. Weakened hands. I’d forgotten about my injuries. Oh well, if I let go I’d just get down that much faster.
“Are you crazy? No, you are crazy. We’re moving at 40 knots. You can’t control the rope and your descent at this speed.”
“I’ve done it before,” I lied. “It’s not easy, but it can be done. Unless you’re ordering me not to go down there and help those people, sir.” I paused and looked Crawford in the eye. He stared right back, jaw set as he probably debated hitting me over the head and handcuffing me.
“You’re a crazy son of a bitch. You know that?”
“Been told that a time or two, sir.” I grinned, slipping on the heavy leather gloves that had been in the locker with the rope. Over the intercom I filled the pilot in on what I was doing and he said something similar to Crawford, then wished me luck as he started bringing us down closer to the train. Looking around to make sure everyone was clear of the rope I pushed it out the door where it uncoiled smoothly and started flapping in the wake of our travel. I would have much preferred to have the pilot fly low enough for me to just step out the door and onto the train, but trains create a lot of turbulence as they move and it was also pretty dark out there. If the train went into a tunnel or under an overpass the pilot wouldn’t have time to pull up. For that matter, the same could happen to me dangling from a rope like a moron.
“Hold on,” I heard Master Sergeant Jackson say over the intercom. Looking around I saw him slipping on a pair of gloves. Crawford was shaking his head, but moved to the edge of the open door to assist. Pulling off the headset I gave Crawford a wink and a thumbs up as I stepped backwards to the edge of the door, rope in hand.
Looking down I didn’t like how the rope was whipping all over the place. In theory, when my weight came on it would straighten out, and while I might be blown a little behind the helicopter I should still come straight down onto the train. In theory. Of course there’s probably a reason why no one does this.
Watching Crawford I could tell he was communicating with the pilot, waiting for word that we were as stable as we were going to get. Jackson moved in front of me, facing the door but ready to grab on and follow me down. I met his eyes and grinned when he mouthed “crazy motherfucker” to me. Yep. Couldn’t argue with that assessment. Colonel Crawford suddenly leaned towards me and flashed a thumbs up. I didn’t hesitate, because I knew if I did I’d never step out of this perfectly good aircraft.
Normally when you fast rope out of a helicopter you go straight down and only have to worry about controlling your descent, not unlike sliding down a brass pole in an old fashioned fire house. This was nothing like that. As soon as my body exited the door and entered the air flow created by our speed I was whipped back so severely that I nearly smashed into the belly of the Black Hawk, and I started spinning like a top in the slipstream. My hands hurt like they were being flayed open but I gripped tighter, pulling the rope as close to my body as I could, using just my feet to control my speed. I slid fast and as I got further below
the helicopter the wind steadied so I was only being pushed back a small amount, but still spun and was getting dizzy. Watching the swiftly approaching roof I clamped as hard as I could with my boots, slowing a little, but the rope was wet and I barely controlled my slide.
Two seconds after I stepped out the door my boots hit the roof of the train, hard, and I stumbled. If not for my grip on the rope I would have fallen and gone off the roof. Catching my balance I kneeled, maintained my grip on the rope, looked up and signaled for Jackson. It’s not unusual for multiple guys to be on a rope at the same time, following each other out the door with minimal spacing. This way you get a lot of boots on the ground in a hurry. I was glad Jackson had the experience and forethought to wait for me to make it down in these conditions before he started.
He was down quickly, boots hitting hard when he landed. They hit too hard and his feet went out from under him, legs flailing in the air as he started sliding towards the edge of the roof. He still had one hand wrapped around the rope, but it was slipping through his grip as he skidded across the slick metal roof. I lunged for him, landing on top of his legs, pinning them with my body weight and arresting his slide with his upper body hanging over the edge. I was reaching for his hand when an infected female screamed from only a few feet away.
24
The son of a bitch! How could he abandon her like that? Rachel’s emotions threatened to overwhelm her and she squeezed tighter on Dog. Part of her thought she should let Dog go with John, but at the moment he was all that was keeping her from having a complete breakdown. Confused and angry she tried to deal with her emotions. She’d never been one to fall in love easily, or even get infatuated with whatever man happened to come along and smile at her. For the past several years she’d been too busy with work and medical school to even entertain the idea of a relationship. That didn’t mean she hadn’t dated occasionally, though never any of the guys from the strip club she’d worked in. A couple of doctors and one fellow medical student.
The doctors had both been looking for trophy wives, one of them actually proposing on their third date. He had offered to pay for the rest of her schooling and make sure she got into a good teaching program when she was ready to start her residency. Their third date was their last. The classmate had been an immature, narcissistic jerk and to this day she couldn’t understand why she’d slept with him on their first and only date. Now she finally met a man that treated her like an equal, a partner, taking charge when needed yet willing to listen to her ideas and suggestions. He wasn’t exactly the most handsome man she’d ever met, way too battered and rugged, but that was part of his charm. Had she fallen in love with him? With a married man that was only thinking of finding his wife?
“Let’s go!” Melanie was grabbing her arm and Rachel snapped out of her reverie, realizing that the group had already started moving off with the small squad of soldiers escorting them. Pulling her arm out of Melanie’s grip, she’d seen the way John had noticed the smaller woman’s looks, she called Dog and rushed to catch up with the group. Melanie fell in opposite of Dog and tried to match the pace Rachel was setting with her long legs.
“You have a problem with me?” She asked as they strode towards the back of the group.
“I don’t even know you. How could I have a problem with you?” Rachel answered without looking at the woman. They caught up with the group and Rachel positioned herself next to Max as one of his older boys pushed the wheel chair.
At the head of the group the soldiers on point were pushing the crowd aside to create a path for them. There were grumblings from the people and a few shouts of anger. One man refused to step aside and two of the soldiers knocked him out of their path and pointed their rifles at the surrounding bodies to make sure no one decided it would be a good idea to retaliate. No one was happy, but then no one was foolish enough to test the determination of the soldiers.
Rachel was dismayed to see what was happening. The thought of American military personnel forcing their way through a frightened crowd of American citizens that were only trying to escape certain death was a sobering one. Modern Americans, despite isolated terrorist attacks like the World Trade Center, had never had to deal with conflict and strife in person, in their own cities. Evacuations, refugees and military interventions that wound up killing civilians was something that happened elsewhere and was watched on the evening news while one was comfortable in their nice, warm home. This was still surreal to Rachel, and to everyone else around her she suspected.
“You understand why he left, don’t you?” Melanie’s question re-focused her on the here and now.
“What do you mean?”
“What I mean is, I don’t know what there is between the two of you, but he didn’t leave you. He left because he saw all these people and wasn’t going to take even a single seat on that train so he could be safe. If he did that then someone else would get left behind and die.” Rachel came to a full stop, but the soldier behind her put a hand in the middle of her back and kept her moving with the group. Tears started flowing down Rachel’s cheeks again as she walked and she cursed herself for letting stupid emotions affect her this much.
The group reached the entrance to a passenger car and came to a halt as the soldiers cleared civilians out of the way. A narrow path opened up and the Sergeant waved Max and his equipment forward. When he was loaded, the Sergeant started moving the women up and onto the small access platform at the rear of the car. It must have been crowded inside already as the boarding process was slow. Rachel jumped when both trains sounded their whistles and anxious voices in the crowd were raised as bodies started pushing in. Looking over her shoulder and at the train station Rachel could see the balcony and there were now four figures standing on it watching over the loading of the trains. There were more shouts and gunfire started erupting all around them. She started to turn but Melanie grabbed her arm.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Rachel whirled on her and roughly pulled her arm away. “Look, I know you mean well, but…”
“But nothing,” Melanie stepped forward and shoved her face at Rachel. With their different heights it was more like she shoved it at Rachel’s chest, but her mouth was set and her eyes as intense as her voice. “Don’t be stupid. I’ve known him for all of 20 minutes and I can already tell he’s a survivor. You really think the Army doesn’t have a plan to get their people out of here? I guarantee you they do, and he’ll be right there with them. Unless some stupid woman causes him to have to try and rescue her and they both wind up getting killed.”
Rachel stared back at the big, blue eyes that were looking up at her. She wanted to punch the perfect little nose, smash the cheerleader white smile, kick the perky little ass all over the parking lot and leave the woman lying in the rain. Dog, picking up on the tension, forced his body between the two women and repeatedly shoved his nose against Rachel’s balled fist until she relaxed and opened her hand. Automatically she started rubbing his ears and the tension suddenly bled out of her and left her feeling exhausted.
“Let’s get on the fucking train.” She said in resignation and turned back to the queue of women waiting to board.
There was more firing from the far side of the other train, then Rachel heard at least two machine guns join the fight. They fell silent after no more than 15 seconds, the crowd quickly disintegrating into a mob. From behind her two of the soldiers that were providing rear guard started firing their rifles at panicked civilians who were charging them. Rachel thought about turning to help, but just then the queue started moving and she followed Melanie up the steps and into the back of the car with Dog on her heels. The soldiers pressed in behind her and stepped up to guard the platform, still firing occasional shots at the angry mob.
The inside of the car was packed with humanity and was oppressively hot and humid. The people crammed up against the walls were opening windows to get some ventilation. Rachel was pushed farther into the car as the remainder of the squad boar
ded. It was standing room only and she wound up face to face with Melanie, Dog jammed in between their legs. Face to face wasn’t exactly accurate and Melanie turned her head back and forth, trying to find a position where her face wasn’t pressed into Rachel’s breasts. Rachel wasn’t happy with the arrangement either and they finally shifted their bodies around until Melanie’s face was against her shoulder.
“If you can see the pervert that just grabbed my ass would you be kind enough to shoot him?” Melanie said, trying to turn and see who was groping her, but they were jammed in too tight by now and she could hardly move. Rachel tried, and failed, to stifle a laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“The world has ended. The apocalypse is here and men are still grabbing ass whenever the opportunity presents itself. Some things will never change.” Melanie looked up at her for a moment and started laughing too. The mirth didn’t last long. New screams from outside the train floated through the open windows, silencing every conversation in the car. The infected were here.
The train lurched hard as it started rolling, people towards the rear of the car shouting and complaining as everyone was thrown back by the sudden start. For a moment there was so much pressure on her body that Rachel couldn’t breathe, then as people regained their balance the pressure lessened. The train started rolling, more screams and now gunfire right outside the windows. Rachel craned her neck around to try and see but there were too many heads in the way. They were gaining speed, slowly, and Rachel was worried that the infected could overwhelm the train. No sooner had she had that thought than there was the bass pulsing of rotor blades from above the roof then some kind of very large gun started firing into the ground right outside the train.