Cooper Wyse grinned back at Mac.
“For a man who just woke up, you sure have a lot to say.”
The train’s speed began to slow down again as the screeching of the locomotive’s brakes were being applied. Cooper stood up and walked toward a window, peering out into the late afternoon landscape outside. At the same time he was doing that, Bear’s legs could be seen passing by that same window as he made his way to the back of the passenger car.
The big man opened the door and stood before the group, every inch of him covered in a thick layer of dark coal dust.
“The Russian is stopping here for a few hours. Says he needs to add water to the system and check out a valve that’s making some noise. I thought maybe we could grab a quick bite to eat, you know…have a meal together. Yakov says once we’re back up and running, we should be well into Manitoba in another seven or eight hours.”
Mac was trying to suppress a smile as he looked back at the coal-dust covered Bear.
“You started this trip a white bear and now you’re a black bear!”
Bear rolled his eyes.
“Hah hah Mac. Don’t quit the day job.”
Cooper appeared amused by Bear’s appearance as well.
“Now I don’t know you as well as the others here Bear, but I have to say, you look downright satisfied to be helping Yakov run this train.”
Bear’s teeth flashed white as his smile broke out amidst his dark, dust layered skin.
“To tell you the truth, as long as I can remember, I’ve always loved trains. I used to have a little model set in my room when I was a kid. Would sit there for hours running it. This train is awesome. Shoveling that coal, the heat of the firebox, the sound of the wheels turning, all the smoke and dust, and the wind blowing by you when you stick your head out of the cab…I could have done this for a living and been as happy as a pig in shit.”
“Bear! Son-of-a-bitch where are you? Look for the water!”
The Russian’s voice was booming just outside the passenger car.
Bear’s face turned into that of a six year old boy who had just been caught doing something wrong.
“Shit – gotta go. Yakov wants me helping to look for a water source to refill the system.”
Mac, Reese, Dublin, Cooper, and even Brando watched as Bear quickly turned and exited from the passenger car to join the Russian outside. Yakov handed Bear a simple bucket and pointed toward the trees.
“Find a stream, snow, anything, and fill that bucket. Be back here quick now.”
Mac looked out a window in amazement at how Bear simply nodded at the Russian’s orders and began running off into the woods holding the bucket.
“All that time in Dominatus and I never had Bear ever do something I asked him to do that quickly, and sure as hell not that willingly.”
Cooper stood next to Mac and joined him in watching Bear’s departure.
“You didn’t own a train. I’ve always found that when a person gets to do something they love, it ain’t work to them, no matter how hard that something is that needs doing. For me, it’s always been horses, animals…and pretty much being left alone. For Bear, well, it looks like it’s being around a train. Who would have known, huh?”
Mac covered his mouth with his right hand in an attempt to suppress another cough.
“And what about me then, Coop? What’s my love in this life?”
Cooper Wyse glanced back at Mac as a small smile crept across his face.
“Much as I can tell, Mac, you’re all about kicking ass…and trying to do the right thing.”
Mac Walker grunted softly, his eyes closing for a moment. He appeared pleased at Cooper’s description of him.
“Maybe so, Coop. Maybe so…”
XLI.
While Bear and the Russian refilled the locomotive’s water system and inspected the valve that had Yakov concerned, Dublin and Reese insisted they prepare a meal for everyone to be eaten once the work on the train was completed. The work though, went longer than the Russian had first estimated, due to the valve that had been making noise, having been slightly bent during the journey from Wilfrid.
Yakov assured them he could repair the valve, though they would likely remain stopped on the tracks for several more hours.
“I apologize. Valve must be repaired though. Cannot risk further damage to engine.”
Dublin offered to have Bear join them for the meal, but the big man declined, wanting instead to help Yakov repair the train. He simply grabbed a heaping portion of food for himself and the Russian, and then happily returned to the front of the train.
That left Mac and Cooper to share the meal Dublin and Reese had prepared for the evening in the small cooking area of the passenger car. It was a simple meal of bread and dark stew Dublin was able to make from some cured meats, stored vegetables, and water. Despite its simplicity, or perhaps because of it, each of the four declared it to be delicious.
Mac ate far less than the others though, slowly moving his spoon within the bowl of stew and picking small bits from the bread. As the others finished their own servings, Mac cleared his throat and looked up at each of them.
“I figure you all know that…something is not right with me. Well, fact is, I got a form of cancer – lung cancer. Had it confirmed by Doc Miller back in Juneau.”
Dublin leaned forward, trying to look more directly at Mac as she placed her right hand over his.
“Cancer? Why not get a vaccine Mac? I’m sure there’s people who can get access it.”
Mac looked back at Dublin with gratitude, sensing how much she cared for his well being.
“Sure...if it was a normal type of cancer that would be no problem. It ain’t a normal cancer though. Doc said it was some kind of manufactured version. No vaccine for it. At least not one he or anyone he knows is aware of.”
Reese’s eyes openly expressed his sadness and horror over what Mac was telling them.
“Just like my dad. A one in a million type of cancer – no cure.”
Mac nodded.
“That’s right, Reese. Same thing Doc Miller said to me. Whatever this thing is, it was put into me. I didn’t just develop it. It was made and injected into me. Like some kind of contingency death sentence that I couldn’t escape from.”
Dublin was slowly shaking her head as her eyes welled with tears.
“Who could have done that, Mac? How?”
Mac’s jaw clenched as his eyes flashed angrily, and for a moment, he almost looked like the Mac during the Dominatus years. Strong, assured – always determined. That moment quickly passed though, as the eyes clouded over again, and his body seemed to fall into itself.
“It was Hess.”
Reese’s eyes opened wide in shock and confusion.
“Hess? The Special Operations Officer?”
Mac answered Reese with a brief nod.
“Yeah – Hess. When we had that fight. Remember? That was his idea. Doc Miller showed me the entrance point of the injection. Likely just a quick jab of a needle and as I was fighting for my life, I wouldn’t have even noticed. Been inside of me ever since. Been ripping through my lungs…can feel it in my lower back. And I’m so damn tired. Don’t have an appetite. I’m dying. No sense trying to say it any different. I’m dying and doin’ it quick.”
Silence overtook the conversation, as the light outside steadily crept toward darkness.
Heavy footsteps were heard approaching the back of the train from outside. Bear walked in to see Mac and the others sitting next to one another but saying nothing. The heavy mood inside the passenger car was unmistakable.
“What’s going on?”
Bear’s question was left unanswered for several seconds before Reese invited him to sit down with them. Mac’s condition was explained to Bear, who sat silently listening, his face betraying no emotion. When the explanation was concluded, Bear looked Mac over before asking him a question.
“Tell me one thing, Mac – why didn’t you just stay in Alaska? Why n
ot rest there with Lucille? She’d take care of you.”
Once more Mac’s eyes grew hard and cold as a flash of the old Mac re-ignited again.
“You think I’m the kind of man who wants to be made over? Someone who will lie in bed fading away until there’s nothing of them left? Is that how you see me, Bear? I’m on this trip for the same reasons you are. Trying to help set things more right, give people a chance to fight back. People like you, your wife, and your kids. People like Reese and Dublin, and whatever life they might have together in the years to come. If people like us don’t take a stand, hell, it really is all over, isn’t it? We can’t sit back and wait for someone else to do it for us. So yeah, sick as I am, and maybe I should have said something sooner but you know, it’s my damn business…sick as I am, I’m still taking that stand. I’m still fighting that fight. It’s all I know how to do. So…I’ll keep doing it until I can’t do it no more. Same way your dad tried to fight for you all those years ago.”
Bear noticeably winced at the mention of his father, but then his face returned to calm, and he nodded his head back at Mac.
“Fine, Mac. You do what you got to do. I’m there for you. I’m sure we all are. Sick or not, I’m glad to have you on our side. I want you to know that.”
Bear stood back up as he informed the group that the Russian estimated they would not be moving again until early morning. A crack was discovered outside the boiler housing. He’s doing some kind of silicone weld but says it will take time to set properly – at least six hours. As Bear turned to go, Yakov’s figure filled the doorway at the back of the passenger car.
“You tell them about delay?”
Bear answered yes.
“Good. We go as soon as possible. Until then, we rest. Relax. Lots of travel tomorrow.”
The Russian sensed there was something being left unsaid as he looked from Bear to the others. It was Bear who stepped forward to explain to Yakov what they had been discussing regarding Mac’s condition. The Russian let Bear finish and then shrugged his wide shoulders.
“He die. You die. We all die. Until then, we live. Simple.”
Mac chuckled.
‘See, told you I liked him. Don’t get more basic than that.”
Yakov held up a finger to the group, signaling he wanted them to wait for him to return. A few minutes later he re-entered the passenger car carrying a bottle in his right hand which he proudly held up in front of him.
“Tonight – we drink.”
Yakov fell into a seat to Mac’s left and opened the bottle of Stolichnaya, taking a long swig before handing it to the former Navy SEAL while indicating Mac had no choice as to whether or not he cared to join him.
“Drink.”
Mac paused, looking at the open bottle.
“I don’t know Yakov…I’m not feeling too well right now.”
The Russian clapped a hand on Mac’s upper back with enough force to cause the older man to slump forward in his seat.
“So drink! Feel better! Don’t be pussy.”
Mac’s eyes narrowed as he looked back at Yakov.
“You know, I was drinking this shit with former KGB when your momma was still wiping the mess from your ass.”
The Russian broke out into laughter at Mac’s reference.
“Good! Good! You tough guy, then! So drink up, tough guy!”
Mac took an even longer drink from the bottle than the Russian had before handing it over to Cooper Wyse.
“Your turn, cowboy.”
Cooper took the vodka from Mac’s hands, slowly looking over the bold red and gold labeling.
“I really don’t think you wanna get into a drinking match with an Irish cowboy.”
Yakov waved a dismissive hand at the rancher.
“Hah! This is Russian vodka! Irish cannot keep up - pretenders.”
Cooper Wyse lifted the bottle back and proceeded to drink nearly twice the amount either Yakov or Mac had.
“Not exactly a pint of dark, but it’ll do in a pinch.”
The bottle was then handed to Bear, who took a small sip, his face wrinkling in disgust.
“Never liked that shit.”
The Russian appeared horrified at Bear’s remark.
“You don’t like vodka?”
Bear confirmed the fact for a second time.
“NO – I don’t like vodka.”
Reese was the next to drink. He did so without complaint, though appeared only slightly more impressed with the vodka than Bear was. Dublin though, grabbed the bottle from Reese in her right hand while moving her hair aside with her left hand and tilted both her head and the bottle as far back as was comfortable while a considerable amount of the clear liquid disappeared down her throat.
The men sat momentarily stunned at Dublin’s display of drinking prowess. Dublin in turn smiled and then laughed, pumping a fist in victory.
“New York for the win baby!”
For the next hour, they each sat laughing and sharing stories in the passenger car, its interior lit by two oil lanterns that hung from the ceiling. The contents of the bottle grew less and less as the bond between each of them grew steadily stronger. During a brief pause in the conversation, Reese grew serious again, posing a question he had long pondered since leaving Dominatus after the drone attacks.
“What do you think was the single biggest reason for America’s downfall? Why were so many willing to give up so much for so little?”
The Russian grunted.
“United States was once big shot. It grow fat and lazy. People stopped working. Wanted something for nothing. Your politicians fed them promises of things for nothing. My grandfather tell me how it was in Soviet Union. Same thing. Promises of things for nothing. What they really get is nothing for everything. All freedom gone. Opportunity gone. Government controls it all.”
Mac closed his eyes. He was struggling to stay awake, but he also wanted to answer Reese’s question. He had recalled a similar conversation with him back in Dominatus.
“You know, Yakov’s right. We did get lazy. Nobody wanted to bother paying attention to what was really going on. The political class knew that. Knew how to use our own ignorance and laziness against us. They played on our greed and our insecurities. Got the country so divided up against itself. Political correctness probably destroyed more lives than anything else back then. Political correctness made people stop having real conversations. Made schools into little government approved factories for an agenda that was all about controlling you from the day you were born until the day you died and making you believe that was the way it was supposed to be. More and more people just started accepting being told what to do. Accepted the drones flying over their homes, watching them 24/7. Accepted having someone monitor what they drank and what they ate, and what they said, and what they might be thinking.”
Mac’s voice began to trail off as sleep took hold, his words coming more slowly.
“Tell you this, if we really do get a chance to start over, to hit some kind of re-set button, I sure hope those people appreciate that kind of opportunity. We sure didn’t. Not before it was too late. Too…damn…late.”
XLII.
Mac awoke before the others, his head aching slightly from the drinking done the night before. Daylight had just started to break outside. As he sat up, the headache worsened slightly, causing him to smile. It felt good to be hung over. In an odd way, it was a reminder of just how alive he still was.
Reese and Dublin slept in their seats next to each other, while Bear lay across the floor of the passenger car, snoring loudly. Cooper was lying back in a seat two rows away from Mac, while the Russian, like Bear, was on his back at the far end of the passenger car seemingly in competition with the volume of Bear’s snoring.
Brando raised his head to look back at Mac, the dog’s intelligent eyes signaling his approval of seeing Mac wake up for another day.
While making his way quietly to the back exit door Mac was barely able to muffle a gasp from the deep pai
n that coursed down his spine. His legs buckled as Mac leaned against the wall of the passenger car. He focused on taking deep, measured breaths until the pain passed. It took nearly a minute before the pain subsided enough that he could continue making his way outside.
The air greeted Mac like a cold slap across his face, causing his skin to tingle. He found the experience invigorating, helping him to wake more fully and take his mind off the still throbbing pain in his lower back. Stepping down onto the ground, he inhaled deeply, taking in the scents of the arctic like air. The tall trees that lined either side of the train tracks loomed over Mac, silently looking down at him from above.
Military Fiction: THE MAC WALKER COLLECTION: A special ops military fiction collection... Page 127