"Sorry, I forgot. 'Cept I did use my code name and we don't have one for Miss Deanna or Ipes."
His hard look softened slightly at her apology. "Hopefully you can tell her everything in a couple of hours. Until then tell you're fine and will talk soon."
Still hanging her head from her rebuke, Jillybean accepted the phone back. "Green this is Pink. I can't answer you just yet, but we can talk soon."
"But Jill…I mean Pink, you said…" There was a pause and when Sadie came back on her voice was pitched lower. "Are you with our old friend?"
Captain Grey held out his hand to Jillybean before she could answer. "Tell her: that's a negative."
"Green, that's a negative. And I shouldn't say more because of operational security. So bye. See you soon."
"He is alive," Sadie whispered into the radio. "Then…then I guess I'll see you soon."
When the radio went silent, Jillybean looked at Grey solemnly. "Sorry. I got over 'cited and I forgot."
"It happens," he replied, turning once again to the wires. "While I finish here, go get Deanna. We got to scoot." The second, much smaller bomb was quickly put together. He checked the batteries on both the transmitter and receivers, before marking the detonators, one with an "S" for small and the other with a "B" for bridge.
Then, with Deanna's help he loaded the small bomb onto the leftover stacks of C4 in the truck and slowly drove back to the highway that lead up to the bridge. Unfortunately, there weren't any tall buildings where he could set the bomb for good visual effect. He figured he would place it atop one of the many big-rig trucks that sat dead on the side of the road. Instead he found a dry fuel truck and with the hope that there was still some residue of fuel or fumes permeating it, he lugged the bomb to the roof of it and turned the receiver to the armed position.
Deanna was slightly relieved that the bomb was no longer in the back of the truck, however on the drive back it was full dark and without headlights it seemed like they hit every chuck-hole ever dug and the mass of C4 in the back shimmied and shook alarmingly.
"You sure it won't blow up?" she asked with an uneasy glance at the full bed. "What happens if you don't see like a steep drop or something?"
"It's fine," Grey said, wearing a scowl that nobody could see.
"You can shoot the bombs and they won't go off," Jillybean said, helpfully. "They're perfectly safe."
Deanna wasn't mollified by the little girl and took to fidgeting. Grey rolled his eyes and added, "This stuff has been around for years. Engineers bang it around all the time and it never goes off by dropping it or jarring it. In fact you can burn it like a piece of wood and it still won't blow up."
"You've seen that?" she asked.
"No, but I know people who've done it. They said it was a little nerve-wracking at first, but it provided heat when they needed it."
Despite their assurances, Deanna never quite relaxed, not even when they made it back to the river safely. She was nervous as a cat when he waded into the water alone, moaning like a zombie. She looked like she wanted to say something or ask a question but in the end said nothing. Grey didn't have time for a conversation anyway.
Imitating the other zombies, he drifted over to where he had leashed the small pontoon and once he cut it free he allowed the river to carry him the two miles to the bridge. This trip in the river was the easiest he'd made yet. The pontoon acted as a buffer and he was hardly touched by any of the foul beasts around him as the current took him right up to the central support.
The bridge at Cape Girardeau was asymmetrical in design. For some unknown reason it consisted of two main supports and three smaller ones. One of the main supports was smack in the middle of the river while the other jutted out of the water almost on the west bank. The three smaller supports sat very close to the east bank and Grey could not puzzle out why they had bothered with three small ones instead of a third large one.
The central support was forty feet of concrete and it was an awkward and tedious operation to position the bomb properly, especially as he was constantly jostled by the zombies slipping by. After a quarter of an hour he got it as secure as it could get and then he began the chore of swimming back to shore without looking like he was swimming.
He had to kick with his legs while keeping his upper body completely still. It was tedious and exhausting, he made it the eastern bank far down river and had an hour long walk back. Deanna and Jillybean were almost in a panic by the time he returned. "That seemed to take forever," Deanna said. "Is everything ok with the bomb? Did you lose it? Did it sink?"
"Yes, no and no," Grey answered, shortly. He went to their cache of food and picked over what was available and found chicken and rice, the best of a bad lot as far as he was concerned. He ripped open the sealed bag and started eating it cold.
"That's it?" Deanna asked. "Yes, no and no are all the answers you're going to give?"
"What can I tell you, it was a long walk back," he replied. "You sound like someone's wife."
"Not yours," she shot at him.
A number of nasty retorts came to mind, but he bit them all off and only shrugged and continued eating. When he was done he kicked a hole in the earth and buried his remains. "Jillybean, I need your other two-way."
She unclipped it, saying, "Can we get closer just in case you get to blow up the bridge?"
At first he squinted, trying to make out her features in the dark and again that stray thread of worry came loose in his mind—was it normal for a seven-year-old to want to see a bridge destroyed in a tremendous blast?
Hell yes it was, he answered himself. He would've gotten a kick out of it when he was a boy. "Sure, move up as close as you can without getting caught. If I call you on the two-way, answer in short sentences. If I use your call sign, Pink, then answer in the affirmative if I don't, answer in the negative. Understood?"
She nodded and as usual with her she had more questions. "Can we give Ipes a call sign, too? He wants to be called Killer Z because he thinks that'll frighten people listening, but it doesn't really fit him. The only thing he's ever killed is a plate of cookies."
"Just humor him for now," Grey suggested, hoping to shelve that discussion for another time or a whole other year. He turned to Deanna. "Your call sign should not give away anything about you. The River King knows Jillybean has escaped so she can keep Pink, but you should be Black. Is that ok with you?"
"Yes, but…" she was again hesitant and he scowled, annoyed that she couldn't just spit out words. She saw the look and asked, sheepishly, "What if you don't come back? What are we supposed to do?"
So she didn't think he would make it? A part of him wanted to be angry but he killed the feeling, knowing that she had been held hostage since all this started and the new undead world was more frightening to her than to anyone. "You don't do anything. By that I mean no heroics, Jillybean. You go back to Fort Campbell, gather all the supplies you can handle and then try to slip across the river somewhere south of here. Use your common sense and you'll be able to make it to Colorado."
"Ok," Deanna said, sounding relieved that she wouldn't be asked to try to assault the River King's lair in order to save him.
"Just do nothing?" Jillybean asked, looking confused. "That doesn't sound like me."
"Remember what I said about following orders?" he growled. He kept his face grim for only a few seconds before he broke into a smile. "Really, this shouldn't be that hard. The River King will never risk his most prized asset."
Once again the three of them climbed into the truck and Grey drove them a half mile from the eastern gate. Goodbyes were given: stiffly between Grey and Deanna, warmly with Ipes and Jillybean. He then divested himself of everything but the detonators, the two-way radio and a single rectangle of C4. With a last glance at Deanna, he set off for the bridge which appeared out of the dark only minutes later. It looked empty and dead.
"Here goes nothing," he said as he picked up a heavy rock and advanced on the heavy metal gate. He began hitting it with
the rock, making a sound like an out of tune gong. There came cursing from the other side and then a man's head and torso appeared at the top of the gate. He stared at Grey as if he was crazy.
"We don't open after dark," he said. "Come back in the morning."
"I think you'll open for me," Grey said. "Check this out."
He tossed the explosive up to the man who gave it a look. "I can't read what it says."
"It's C4," Grey told him. "And I've got two hundred more of those strapped to the main support of that bridge."
"Why?" the guard asked, holding the explosive at arm's length. "What do you want?"
"To talk to the River King," Grey answered simply enough. "In person, right here."
"He won't be happy," the man said as he disappeared behind the gate.
Grey expected the wait to be long and was pleasantly surprised when the gate opened after only a minute. A guard beckoned him inside. "The River King asks that you wait inside so you aren't attacked by stray stiffs; thinks you might hit the go button if you panic. I'm also to see if you are armed or if you got on a suicide vest or something."
"I only have this," Grey said, showing him the bridge detonator, which he kept ready in his left hand.
Now the wait was longer and uncomfortable. Four men with guns aimed at his chest were his only company and long tense minutes passed. The men were stern and quiet, just like he was and it was a bit of a jolt to the atmosphere they created when the River King came bustling in, grinning.
"What is this I hear? Someone threatening my…bridge," he stumbled on his words, shocked to see who he was addressing. "My, it's Captain Grey! And here I thought I'd be dealing with some imbecile or madman or wanna-be pirate."
"You have my friends, my stuff and my trucks," Grey stated. "I want them all back. And that includes Sadie."
"Whoa! Hold on big fella. You're jumping the gun here. You show up holding a little radio deal and you want me to hand over wanted criminals? That's not how this works."
"Then how does it work?"
"Come, let's go see this bridge you're thinking about destroying." The River King took a few steps, but Grey didn't budge. The king made a face. "Do you think I'm trying to trap you? You're the one with the bomb…supposedly."
"Open your gate and you'll see I don't bluff," Grey replied.
"Sure, why not?" the River King said, though he did so with just a little bit less enthusiasm. The gate was opened and Grey took out the detonator of the smaller bomb. "Right down there," he said, jutting his chin down the highway. He hit the button and the bomb went off with an explosion that lit up the night for miles around. A second later the sound, a great thundering boom shook the gate and caused the men to step back a pace.
Grey was happy to see the fuel truck burning like an inferno. "That was the small bomb. The big bomb is four times that size and is currently chained up to the middle span of your bridge. I have the materials, I have the motive, I have the ability, and I'm not bluffing."
"Seems so," the River King said. "All the more reason we should talk in private." Without waiting for a reply he walked off through the open second gate. Grey saw no recourse but to go with him. They didn't go far onto the bridge.
They meandered around the stalled out cars and then the River King went up to the series of three taunt cables that acted as a rail for foot traffic. He hitched one boot up on the lower cable and leaned on the top one just as if he was bellying up to a bar.
"You know, Sadie walked right down this bridge a year ago. She must have passed within a hundred yards of me and I didn't know. I was too busy fighting to live, fighting to scratch out a way of life to notice."
"I won't be moved by pity," Grey scoffed.
"I'm not looking for pity," the River King replied. "I know I deserve none. I was just talking about my daughter. She hates me, but if we had bumped into each other on this bridge last year, who knows. My guess is she would've helped me. She would've been here as I did unspeakable things to survive, to make a name for myself…"
"The River King is hardly a name," Grey said, interrupting.
"It's more than a name!" the River King shot back. "It's who I am. It's who I had to become. Do you think anyone would fear some average guy named Steve Walcott? That's my real name. Or at least it was. No, no one fears Steve. But the River King is much different."
"Uh-huh," Grey grunted. "You're nothing more than some petty warlord."
The River King laughed easily at this. He gave Grey a glance and then leaned way out over the rail, looking toward the middle span. "The angle is too sharp to see it," he said, turning back to Grey and appraising him with a steady eye. "You're right Captain Grey. I am only a petty warlord and my name is pretentious and silly. If I had real power I wouldn't be threatened by the idea of a bomb."
"The bomb is real and so are my demands."
"Then hit the button," the River King said, poking his fingers in his ears.
Grey only stared at him until he pulled his fingers out. "I'm not joking," he growled, angrily.
"And I'm not either," the River King said. "I don't have real power. It exists only in the minds of the people beneath me. What would they think if I knuckled under to you? What would they think if you forced me to empty my prisons? How would they look at me, knowing I paid ten thousand for my own daughter only to have her taken away?" He stepped right up to Grey; there was cologne on his shirt and his breath smelled of red wine.
"You called me a petty warlord and again so right. And we both know what happens to petty warlords if they can't create and maintain the illusion of real power."
"They get a knife in the back curtesy of a rival," Grey said. "But that's the life you chose."
"I didn't choose this. I had a great life before the apocalypse. Money, cars, a different woman every night. This…this was forced on me."
"I swear that sounds like pity," Grey said. "And at the same time it sounds like a load of crap. We both know that you'd rather stave off rivals than lose your bridge. A River King without a bridge is a king without a kingdom." The captain wore a wolf smile as he said this, thinking he had the River King right where he wanted him.
"Unless he has another bridge," the River King replied with a bit of a smile playing on his lips. Grey felt the sudden lightness of uncertainty in his gut. It was an unusual feeling for him and he didn't like it.
"Oops," the River King said. "I can tell you weren't counting on that. You see, back when all this shit was going down your friends in the army were worried about being trapped on the wrong side of the river on account of everyone blowing up bridges left and right to keep the zombies from crossing over. So they scrounged up all this bridging equipment. Floating bridges they called them, I believe."
"But your rivals…"
"My rivals don't know about the floating bridges. It wasn't here that the army stored them." The River King rubbed his hands together, almost gleefully. "Yes my rivals will have a heyday if you blow this sucker up. They'll be like cockroaches squirming out into the light to expose themselves, jumping at the chance to call me out, but where will their solution be? What will they have but pointing fingers and the scare of civil war? Who wants that?"
He gestured across the river at Cape Girardeau. "The people don't want that. No sir. They want a real leader, a leader with solutions! I will present my new bridge and I will be the River King once again while those who called me out will be indicted for conspiring with you, Captain Grey to blow up the bridge. I'll come out in a stronger position."
Grey couldn't believe this. "That is a better alternative than just letting a few prisoners go?"
"It's a more certain alternative. But that doesn't mean I want it to come to pass. Because if my bridge gets blown up," he paused and slapped a steel strut with the flat of his hand. "I would be very angry and I would have to hurt everyone you cared about Captain Grey. Even little Jillybean who I know is out there somewhere. It would be very, very sad." He frowned and put a hand on Grey's shoulder. "You
see why I don't really want you to blow up my bridge? It's one thing to return all those fugitives to their rightful owners, Sadie might be able to understand that, but you'd be forcing me to publicly torture and mutilate them first. I would much rather have you see reason and realize that one way or another, your mission has failed. I will not be releasing any prisoners."
Grey was speechless as he tried to puzzle out if the River King was bluffing. He knew the army had bridging equipment and it made sense that they would want to keep the Mississippi open, and it wouldn't be all that hard to find. But would the River King really risk a free standing bridge over this?
"Let me help you out," the River King said when Grey had stood there for half a minute pondering everything he had just heard. "I'll sweeten the pot since you seem confused at your choices. Blow up the bridge and I'll see to it that the people you wanted to save will suffer even more than they already will, or hand me that detonator and I'll throw you a bone."
"Neil?" Grey asked. "You'll set him free?"
"No. Gunner wants him too badly. I was think…"
"Hardly," Grey said cutting him off. "If any one, Gunner wants me. You just want to get rid of Neil because of Sadie."
The River King glared. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I hate Neil for turning my daughter against me and maybe I want to see him dead very badly. Either way he's not part of the deal."
"Then what is it?"
"Jillybean, I won't search for her like I should. Not only that, I'll let that ugly girl with the missing teeth go. She's practically worthless anyway. They can both go to Colorado for all I care."
"That's it?"
"That's it. Make your choice."
"Then I choose blowing up the bridge. You're not giving me shit."
When the River King only shrugged, Grey held up the detonator, flipped up the plastic guard and said, "Last chance." Again the king only shrugged and so Grey, very slowly pressed the detonate button.
"Now who's bluffing?" the River King asked when nothing happened. Grey had switched the power to off right before he brought up the detonator. He'd been hoping to catch his opponent bluffing, hoping for one last chance.
The Apocalypse Fugitives Page 32