Gunfight on the Alpha Centauri Express (Nick Walker, U.F. Marshal Book 5)

by John Bowers

  “What the hell are you doing in there?” he demanded of the young man.

  “Uh—nothing. What—What’s the problem?”

  “Step outside.”

  The young man, who might have been twenty-one, gulped and stepped out. He recoiled when he saw Nathan standing nearby with a shotgun in his hand.

  “Jesus! What’s going on!”

  Nick pulled him clear of the door and turned him to face the wall. A quick pat on his backside confirmed he had nothing to hide—literally—and Nick stepped into the cabin doorway. His right hand still gripped the.44, but it was pointed downward.

  “I need you to come out here, Miss. Right now.”

  The girl, who was about the same age as her lover, was shaking with fear. She began to blubber as, with some difficulty, she reached for a bathrobe and slipped it over her shoulders. She eyed Nick fearfully as she crawled off the bunk.

  “Nothing to worry about, Miss. You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before. Come on out.”

  Seconds later she stumbled into the narrow aisle. Nick checked her bathrobe for pockets, but it had none. He stepped into the berth and looked around. Except for one open piece of luggage, it was clean; a quick search and the luggage also checked out. He returned to face the couple.

  “Okay, I’m sorry to break in on you so rudely, but we’re looking for fugitives on board this train. So far we have one, but I believe there are others, so I need you to proceed back to Car 6 and take a seat on the upper level. Got that?”

  “Can we—at least get dressed first?”

  “Absolutely. But one at a time. Leave the door open and don’t make any sudden moves.”

  The girl stepped inside and fumbled with some clothing. Nick held her boyfriend by the arm until she finished, then allowed him inside to get dressed as well. As their fear diminished, their annoyance mounted.

  “Jesus, man! Did you have to come in like the fucking Star Marines? You scared the shit out of us.”

  “Sorry for that. The people we’re after are extremely dangerous, so for the safety of everyone on board, we can’t take any chances.”

  Nick held his position while Nathan escorted the tousled couple into Car 6 and up to the scenic deck. When he returned, Nick checked the next four sleeping berths. None of them was occupied. Heaving a sigh of relief, he nodded at Nathan.

  “Two down.”

  They moved into Car 4.

  Mile Marker 261, 7:29 am

  The Alpha Centauri Express raced west across the continent at two hundred knots. It streaked across the Trimmer Plain and skirted the Tamalaya Mountain range on the north. The line ran through three small cities in the center of the continent, none bigger than twenty thousand people. The first of these was Monroe Falls, four hundred twenty miles west of Lucaston.

  As Nick and Nathan entered Car 4, Monroe Falls was still fifty-six minutes away.

  Car 4 was the dining car, luxuriously appointed, with twelve dining tables and a small but well-equipped galley. As they stepped inside, Nick smelled bacon and coffee. Three people were seated at the tables, all sitting alone; two of them looked up with startled expressions as the two lawmen, looking like transplants from an earlier millennium, stepped inside carrying heavy pistols.

  “United Federation Marshal!” Nick announced, holding up his badge for all to see. “I don’t have a lot of time to explain, but we need you all to move back to the rear car while we search the train for fugitives. Sorry to interrupt your breakfast, but please do it now.”

  The passengers, all in their forties, complied without hesitation. Nick patted them down before they left the car, then turned to the waiter who had been about to deliver a fantastic smelling breakfast to one of the tables and nodded toward the rear of the car.

  “That includes you, sir. How many crew in this car?”

  “Just me and the chef.”

  “Get him out here.”

  The waiter, in a tuxedo that matched the monorail line’s colors, set the tray down and stepped through a doorway into the galley. Nick tensed until he returned with an older man in a white chef’s hat. Nick repeated what he had told the passengers, patted them down, and urged them to the rear of the car.

  “Wait!” the chef said. “I have cooking equipment that needs to be turned off!”

  “I’ll take care of it. You need to go with my partner right now. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

  Both men, looking reluctant, joined Nathan and the three passengers. Nick waited until Nathan returned, then entered the galley and looked around. He found the switches to the cooking coils and shut them down, checked the storage area to make sure no one was hiding there, then joined Nathan again.

  “On to Car 3.”

  Mile Marker 308, 7:43 am

  Car 3 was another sleeper car identical in configuration to Car 5. Once again, Nick left Nathan below while he checked the upper deck. This one he found empty, not a soul in sight. He checked between the seats just to make sure, and also opened the door to the restroom, but found no one. He returned to the bottom deck.

  “Topside is clear,” he said. “I’m starting to get nervous.”

  Nathan said nothing, but his eyes reflected stress.

  “How’s our girl doing?”

  “Tracy? Still whining like a little bitch.”

  “Good. I hope she gets gangrene.”

  Nick started down the sleeping berths, but only found one passenger, this one a white-haired man with his feet kicked up onto a bench, a computer in his lap and a pencil clenched between his teeth. He scowled as Nick ordered him outside.

  “Is this really necessary? I’m teaching a class in Lancalpha tomorrow and I have to finish my research.”

  “You’re a college professor?”

  “Yes. And I resent your intrusion.”

  “Well, Professor, I’m sorry, but how well do you think your class is going to go if you die before you get to Lancalpha?”

  “What!” The man looked startled.

  “These people are killers, sir. I need your cooperation.”

  The professor ambled toward the rear of the car, looking supremely annoyed.

  “Okay, fine, but be assured that I plan to file a complaint with the U.F. Marshal for this intrusion!”

  “I hope you do that, sir. It will mean you’re still alive.”

  Nathan took the professor back to Car 6 and returned in two minutes. Nick was double-checking the loads in his revolvers, then looked at Nathan with a grim smile.

  “Looks like it’s Car 2. Car 1 is the propulsion unit, so there’s only one passenger car we haven’t checked.”

  “Are you ready?”

  Nick checked his watch.

  “No. Let’s take a break. Let’s get a little closer to Monroe Falls before we go in.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m going to release Car 6 and let the passengers go, but not until we get closer to a station.”

  “Doesn’t this train stop at Monroe Falls?”

  “Not today. Marshal Bridge talked the Transit Authority into altering the schedule. We can’t have anyone getting on or off the train until this is done.”

  “That’s going to piss a lot of people off.”

  Nick shrugged. “Oh, well.”

  “How far out is Monroe Falls?”

  “About forty minutes. You want some coffee?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Lock that door and wait here. I’ll bring the coffee.”

  Nathan did as instructed, then slumped against one of the sleeping cabins; his .45 was holstered, but he had the shotgun and was ready if anyone tried to enter from Car 2. Nick was back three minutes later with steaming cups of coffee.

  “It would be more comfortable upstairs, but we don’t dare leave this door unguarded. I don’t want anyone getting behind us.”

  They sipped their coffee, letting their nerves settle a little. Neither of them spoke for several minutes.

  “How was Kristina this morning?” Nick asked finall
y.

  “She was still sleeping when I left. That sedative knocked her out.”

  “Are King and Victoria still with her?”

  Nathan nodded. He looked as bleached-out as Nick felt, his soul scoured by the shock of Suzanne’s death.

  Nick stared out the window for a minute, watching the plain shoot past. He felt as if his entire life was on hold, waiting to see if anything waited on the other side. Just like the war—you didn’t dare think beyond the next minute, the next hour. You didn’t make plans, you tried like hell not to get attached to anyone or anything. You just existed, your only purpose to prepare for whatever came next. Fear was always there, but after the first shock of battle, you either let it drive you insane or you buried it, and after a time you learned to ignore it. Quiet times were a gift, a few hours free of dread, of living in the moment because it might be all you had, the last time you had it. But even in the quiet moments you didn’t dwell on anything beyond the immediate present. Tomorrow was a lifetime away, and not to be anticipated.

  He closed his eyes. Since becoming a U.F. Marshal he’d faced danger many times, had been terrified a time or two, but had never been so completely transported back to the worst months of his life. Now, here he was. Anticipating nothing, with only one goal in mind. Whatever came after—if there was an after—was dim, murky, of no consequence. If he lived through today, he could worry about it then, but for now there was nothing. No “after”, no future, no life…

  …without Suzanne.

  He jerked himself back to the present, took a deep breath, and drained his coffee cup.

  He glanced at his watch.

  Nine minutes to Monroe Falls.

  Mile Marker 405, 8:12 am

  “Keep an eye on the door. I’m going up.”

  Nathan nodded and Nick headed up the steps to the upper deck again. Out of pure obsession, he checked the seats again to make sure the deck was empty, then walked to the rear of the car and gazed over the roof of the dining car behind him at the last two cars of the train. Because Car 5 blocked his view, he couldn’t see Car 6, but that was okay. Feeling his pulse increase slightly, he keyed the controller the monorail official in Lucaston had given him. A moment later he got a response.

  “Alpha Centauri Monorail, Monroe Falls station.”

  “This is Nick Walker, U.F. Marshal. Who’s in charge there?”

  “I am. Are you the Marshal on board the Express?”

  “Yes. Marshal Bridge briefed you?”

  “He said the train probably wasn’t going to stop. Is that still the case?”

  “Yes, it is. We have one suspect in custody, but the train still hasn’t been cleared. We’re about eight minutes out.”

  “Okay…how can I help you?”

  “I’ve herded most of the passengers into Car 6. When we get to within a couple miles of your station I’m going to release the car. I wanted to give you a heads-up so you can retrieve the passengers.”

  “Okay. Do you know how to release it?”

  “One of the monorail officials at Lucaston gave me a controller, which I’m using to talk to you right now. He explained how it works.”

  “Good. We’ll rescue the passengers. Thanks for the warning.”

  “Sorry to break up your day like this.”

  “Yeah, well, not as sorry as the people in the station. Some of them are really pissed that they’re going to miss their connection.”

  “I guess I don’t blame them, but they’ll have to get over it. Okay, we’re coming up on six miles. How long will it take that car to stop?”

  “Once you cut it loose, the magnetic brakes will engage. It will travel a couple of miles before it comes to a stop.”

  “Then I’ll try to time it so it stops as close as possible to the station.”

  “Thanks. That will make our job easier.”

  “Do you have police in the station?”

  “Just our normal security cops.”

  “Alert them that there is a girl in Car 6 shackled to a stanchion. She has a broken arm and she’s raising hell about it, so she won’t be hard to identify. Tell them to take her into custody and lock her into a very secure cage. She is a terrorist under arrest for at least one murder. She should be the only person on the lower deck, so approach her with caution and get her off the car before releasing the other passengers. You got that?”

  “Yes, I got it.”

  “Okay, I’ve got to go. We’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

  “Good luck, Marshal.”

  Nick disconnected, checked his watch again, and with a couple of minutes to spare, walked to the front of the car. Looking through the forward window, he could see perhaps a dozen heads in the upper deck of Car 2, most of them seated toward the center of the car. The windows were tinted and he couldn’t make out any detail. Any one—or all—of them could be the terrorists he was looking for, but the only way to know for sure was to enter the car and clear it one person at a time.

  He would do that shortly, but now his watch indicated that Monroe Falls was rapidly approaching. He walked back to the center of the car, stopped, and checked his watch again. The controller in his hand had a button for each car on the train. He pressed number 6, checked his watch again, and gazed out the back window. His thumb pressed the RELEASE button.

  He felt a mild jolt, just a shudder under his feet. As the shudder faded, he tried to look past Car 5 to see if Car 6 had released, but couldn’t be sure.

  He began to see buildings out the side windows, farms and barns and a few houses, sweeping past at two hundred knots. The train horn sounded, but the Express never slowed an inch. Suddenly he saw the town, streets and shops and homes, then the Express swept through the station at full speed and Nick relaxed just a fraction.

  That was one load off his mind…

  He turned toward the front of the car and his eyes narrowed—on the top deck of Car 2, one of the passengers was on her feet, standing in front of the window not more than six feet from the front of his car, facing him. He felt his skin crawl as he saw that she was about eighteen, slender and pretty, with long red hair.

  She was smiling at him. She raised her right arm and he saw her thumb press down onto something in her hand.

  Behind him…

  Car 6 exploded.

  Chapter 28

  Mile Marker 438, 8:22 am

  Nick spun around and stared in horror out the back window of Car 3. A mile behind him, a giant gash of flame was boiling into the air; Car 6 had just reached the station when it blew, and the PlastOMite—Nick had no doubt that’s what it was—pulverized the car in a giant fireball.

  Before he could fully process what he was seeing, two secondary explosions flashed like volcanic eruptions and the entire sky behind him disappeared under spreading flame. He saw the blast wave approaching, but the train was going too fast and it dissipated before it hit.

  The monorail station was gone.

  The death toll would be ten times higher than just the people in the monorail car.

  For just a moment, he felt the strength drain out of his bones, as if he’d been double-punched in the stomach and kidney at the same time. But it rushed back just as quickly, an adrenaline surge that hit his bloodstream like a tsunami.

  He spun back and stared toward Car 2 again, but the red-haired girl had disappeared. He hurried down the steps to the lower deck, where Nathan was hanging on to the wall.

  “What the hell just happened?” Nathan asked.

  “The bastards blew up the car we just released.”

  “What? One of their own people was on that car.”

  “Yeah, that’s the kind of mentality we’re dealing with. I saw the girl who did it. She was on the upper deck with some kind of remote detonator. Her name is Ginger.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “One of the girls you captured in Trimmer Springs identified her. She’s a redhead, long hair, very pretty. She was Tracy’s partner. I figured she was on the train somewhere, and
now I know for sure.”

  Nick was breathing hard as he unslung the machine pistol.

  “Are we going in?”

  “Not yet. The last thing we need to do is get reckless. The train won’t stop for another five hours, so time is on our side; the longer we make them wait, the more jittery they’ll become, the more likely to make a mistake.”

  “Okay. What’s our strategy?”

  “When we do go in, we’re going to treat everybody as terrorists. If we find any old people, they’re probably okay, so we’ll push them back into this car and lock them in. But anybody under thirty—shoot first if you have to.”

  “I got it.”

  “And we’re not taking prisoners.”

  “What!”

  “Anybody who offers the least resistance gets a bullet. You got that? Don’t hesitate.”

  “Nick, we can’t just gun people down!”

  “You want to get back to Kristina? Worry about the legal ramifications later. These people aren’t just criminals, they’ve declared war. And we’re giving them no quarter. The days of Mister Nice Guy are over.”

  Nathan looked shaken, but nodded without further comment.

  Nick dropped a hand on his shoulder.

  “Keep an eye out here. I’m going to double-check the cars behind us and make sure we didn’t miss anybody.”

  “Getting paranoid?”

  “After what just happened? Yeah. I won’t be long.”

  Nick moved through the dining car, checking the galley and storage one more time. He found no one, and moved on back to Car 5, which was now the tail car. He walked to the rear and stared out the window at where Car 6 had been before he released it. He was too numb to feel remorse over the people he’d tried to save who were now almost certainly dead; instead, his mind was working on a cold track, machine-like, as he calculated odds and possibilities. He was back on the battlefield, all considerations forgotten except taking out the enemy. His pulse raced but he didn’t even notice it.

  He checked the lower-deck sleeping berths again but they were clear. He mounted the steps to the second deck and strode down the center aisle, looking right and left at each row of empty seats. Nothing.