by Scott W Cook
Tony opened this reluctantly, expecting the smell of long rotted food to come out. However, he didn’t gag up and only whistled, “Bottled water and maybe a case of soda. Nice.”
“Great,” Sam cranked, “We’ve got Doritos, canned chili, microwave popcorn and Coke. How about some friggin’ power though…”
“What’s under this hatch in the floor?” I asked, pointing my light down.
Sam and Tony looked at the three foot by six foot hatch, then at each other and then at me. Sam grinned, “I don’t know… let’s find out.”
He reached down and grabbed a ring set into the floor and heaved the heavy looking hatch up. It swung on its long side on hinges and stopped just past the vertical. Beneath was a pit of darkness that looked uncomfortably like a coffin.
“Looks like a grave,” Tony said in a freaky way that made me think he could read my mind.
“Hmmm…” Sam said. He looked at Tony, “I don’t suppose you want to climb in and poke around?”
“I would,” Tony offered, “But this wound… still hard to use my left arm well… because of the wound! Oh the wound!”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake…” Sam chuckled, “It’s not even Easter and he’s serving up ham.”
I giggled as Sam lowered himself into the pit. It was maybe three feet deep as well and when he shined his light around, we saw a series of hatches and something along the forward end of the little compartment.
“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s bare assed uncle,” Sam breathed, “That look like a battery switch to you, XO?”
Tony shined his light in, “Damn sure does. A big motherfucker, too.”
“It’s even got two banks,” Sam said as he checked the round switch out, “one, two and both… and off, which it’s on now. Okay, I’m switching to both…”
“Maybe just one or the other?” Tony asked, “just in case we blow something?”
Sam sighed, “Not a bad thought… but I’ll bet it takes a pretty strong charge to fire this mother up. I’m chancing it.”
There was a click and then the nearly pitch black cabin lit up with soft but bright fluorescent light. I even heard the little fridge kick on.
“Hoo-rah!” Tony whooped, raising both his arms up high. He flinched but still kept a smile on his face.
“Great,” Sam said, climbing up and closing the hatch, “We’ve got power… now how the Christ do we start this beast? And uncouple the cars? I can’t believe there wasn’t a manual.”
Tony was standing between the two pilot’s chairs and turned to us, “It’s computerized. Or seems to be. There’s an OS booting up right now. Maybe the manual is in the system.”
“Outstanding!” Sam said excitedly. He went over and sat in the left chair and Tony sat in the right. There were screens in front of both of them as well as what looked like a simple throttle and gear lever in between. It was big, but looked not much different than something you’d find on a boat.
Tony rubbed his hands together, “Yes, system is up… looks like we’ve got a menu here. Oh, there’s a list of functions and help icons with each. Goddamn, Sharky, I didn’t realize trains were so high tech.”
“It is the twenty-first century,” Sam said, “Or was… this certainly makes things easier. Now let’s see…”
Tony scoffed, “Twenty-first century and you still make black jokes.”
“Me?” Sam asked, “You’re the one says you’re an ignorant darky. Not to mention always calling me honky and cracker and so forth.”
Tony huffed dramatically, “I’m being satirical.”
Sam shrugged, “Like your big black dick endangering pedestrians? That what you mean by satire, Mandingo?”
“You’re right,” Tony sighed heavily and then grinned back at me, “Everybody is a wise ass.”
“How about the train, boys?” I prodded with a grin.
“There’s a manifest,” Tony said, “Car by car… fuck! We’re hauling three tankers of diesel and three of regular gas… coal, machine parts… assorted vehicles… whoa, a whole car of Frito-Lay products… assorted household items, a soap tanker… Jesus, Sharky, this is a gold mine!”
“I’m surprised nobody’s claimed it yet,” Sam said, “But that’s not important for now. We can report this to the Admiral later… or not… now where’s the instructions on how to kick this pig…”
My radio crackled, “Red! Red! This is blue two… bogies in the woods. Say again, bogies in the woods. We’re being flanked and weapons have been fired!”
My heart leapt into my throat. It was Andrea. And over the low volume I’d set the radio on, I heard several shots… and then a lot of them.
Chapter 34
Zombie War Journal – 12/8/92017
By Lieutenant Andy Summers
Technically, I outranked the Gunny… but the truth is that she’s been in the corps for a long time and I think it would be mature to defer to her experience. She seemed nice and I didn’t want to come off as some uppity snot nosed kid who thinks he knows everything.
“What do you suggest, Gunny?” I whispered after we’d climbed down the ladder on the starboard side of the locomotive. I don’t know if port and starboard are right for a train, but I am a sailor after all.
“Let’s make our way to the end of the train and then work our way back forward again,” Rivers said.
We jogged down the line of cars, our weapons held at port arms. I didn’t hear mom and Vicky on the other side. We’d probably passed them by.
We got to the end of the train and everything looked just as quiet and peaceful as when we’d first arrived. That kind of bothered me a little. I don’t know why… why would anybody be concerned that the night was peaceful and the only sounds that could be heard were crickets and the occasional owl.
“Kind of creepy,” Rivers said as she stood shoulder to shoulder with me. Well, her shoulder to my bicep, I guess. She was only about five foot four. About the size of my mom, actually.
I looked at her, “That’s weird… I was thinking the same thing. Why is that?”
She shrugged and removed her pack. She then dropped to a knee and began digging around. After a second, she came up with her night vision goggles, “I think it’s just the world. It’s dead, and after six months, you just expect bad shit. I’m gonna do a thermal scan with these. Keep your eyes open and ears tuned.”
“Yes sir,” I said with a grin.
She looked up at me and flipped me off, “Smart ass.”
“Hey,” I said, “I’m an officer you know… although I know that doesn’t mean much in truth.”
The Gunny adjusted her NVG’s and put a hand on my arm, “From what I’ve heard, you earned it, L T. But I’ve done this shit before, so I hope you aren’t offended if I’m taking point.”
“Nah,” I said, “It’s cool.”
“Good,” She said with a chuckle, “Cuz’ I’d be doing it anyway… okay, let’s see what’s out there…”
We both looked around a bit. It was a clear night, and the moon was already above the tree line in the east. There was decent light even for the naked eye, at least out in the open. The woods, on the other hand, were pitch black and I guess the source of my creeps.
“Negative,” She said in a low tone.
“Why don’t you get on top of this freight car,” I suggested, pointing to a ladder that ran up the back of the last box car on the train, “Give you some height.”
“Good idea,” She said with a grin. She reached up and tweaked my BDU cover, “you’re pretty smart for a cute blonde.”
“Sam’s right,” I said as I watched her scale the ladder, “Everybody is a wise ass…”
“Red three, Blue two,” Mom said over the radio, “What’s your sich?”
“B2, R3,” I replied softly, “Red four and I are at the caboose, as it were. Negative on Zulu, negative on Charlie.”
“Roger that, red three,” Mom replied, “We’re working aft. All clear. Out.”
“Looks okay up here, L T,” Rivers ca
lled down from the top of the freight car, “Maybe we should work our way forward up here.”
“What?” I asked, “Jump from car to car?”
“Why not?” She asked, “I’ll bet all of these cars are locked up from the sides. But maybe they’ll have roof hatches or some shi—“
That’s when the first shot crackled. It wasn’t loud, kind of sounded like a small firecracker that was far off. But the sound came from further ahead and it wouldn’t have come from mom or Vicky.
“Shit!” Rivers barked, “We’ve got bogies in the woods. Looks like several people coming out of cover near the middle of the train!”
My radio crackled to life, “Red, red! This is blue two! Bogies in the woods, say again bogies in the woods! We’re being flanked and shots have been fired!”
“Fuck!” I hissed, “We gotta go, Gunny!”
There were more shots now. I could clearly hear the sound of three round bursts, probably from our team’s M4’s. There were other weapons, too. A couple of hunting rifles from the sound of the reports.
“We’ve got our own problems, kid!” Rivers shouted down just as a volley of shots rang out from down the tracks and a dozen bullets ricocheted off the back of the freight car no more than five feet from me.
“Shit!” I cursed and dove under the train where I could get some cover from the wheel trucks, “What’ve we got?”
I had NVG’s too, but they were in my pack. Not so good in a fire fight either. I needed to be able to aim. I crawled forward until I was lying between the rear wheels and brought my rifle up to my cheek and peered through the scope.
The starlight scope showed me a greenish landscape. The railroad tracks snaked away and dwindled ahead of me as they left the woods and went through open land. I couldn’t see anyone yet, but I knew there had to be at least two or maybe even four people coming up on the end of the train with at least semi-automatic weapons.
“Three men,” Rivers called from a dozen feet over my head, “Two on the right and one on the left. Hard to tell on thermal, but maybe two hundred yards.”
For a trained marksman or even a regular soldier with an M4, this would’ve been only a moderately tough distance for accuracy. An M16 would’ve been even easier.
The M4 was basically a more modern and reduced M16. As Sam said, the M4 didn’t have quite the accuracy at long ranges like the M16, but it was lighter, could be folded and used one handed and was a far better tactical weapon and far more robust.
While the M16 was accurate at ranges up to five-hundred yards, the M4 was about as good at three-hundred or even four. With a starlight scope, a steady hand and good fire discipline, I should be able to hit these targets at two hundred or less.
The steel above and forward of me rang out again as another volley of shots struck. None of the bullets hit the tracks or ties or gravel near me. That led me to think they didn’t know I was underneath the truck.
The shots did strike higher on the back of the car, which told me our enemies had seen Rivers up there. She was laying, or at least I hoped so, on the flat roof of the train… and exposed. I had to try and draw the attention away from her.
Just as I was figuring out what to do, Rivers’ M4 crackled overhead in three quick three-round bursts. I heard the distant sound of men swearing and yipping in surprise.
“Hit one?” I shouted.
“No!” Rivers said with a curse, “They’re under cover to either side of the tracks. Got close though. Gave them something to think about!”
There were four things about a fire fight that Sam and tony had drilled into me. I went through them now as I tried to both think of a plan and calm the Mexican jumping beans going nuts in my guts.
“First,” Sam had said, “You never fire straight on. Always fire at an angle. That straight on shit is only in the movies. Angular fire makes it harder for them to get a bead on you. Second, you never fire from the same place twice for the same reason.”
“And never move without covering fire,” tony added.
“And keep a count of your rounds,” Sam finished.
“And always rub one out before a hot date,” Tony added with a shit eating grin, “that way you’ll last longer when she starts gobblin’ on that monkey.”
“Fucking Tony!” Mom had exclaimed and smacked him, “Jesus!”
I grinned at this memory. It helped with the fear. Since this is my journal, I’ll admit I was pretty scared. Its one thing to shoot a bunch of G’s who don’t shoot back… but these assholes were gunning for us and meant business. They hadn’t even identified themselves. That was a bad sign.
Still, my problem was what could I do? If I opened up from under the train, our enemies would be sure to see the muzzle flashes and would send a shit ton of lead my way. Of course, if they were in the trees, their firing angles for this small space would be bad.
Another ting,tong,ting,tong above me as more rounds smacked into the steel of the train made up my mind. There wasn’t any time to debate. I had to move and do something soon.
I edged up until I could swing my rifle to the left and right around either of the wheels. Through the scope, I scanned the tree line and didn’t see anything at first. Another series of bursts exploded overhead, which kept the bogies under cover for the moment.
Then I saw one guy lean around the trunk of a big pine and point a long gun our way. I sighted in, took a breath and eased the trigger back, sending a single round the man’s way.
“Fuck!” I heard him shout. Even from two hundred yards away it was clear. In the scope, he jerked backward and out of sight.
Not sure if I hit him, but I scanned my scope to the right to find my next target. It was even easier. Another guy popped up from a cluster of palmettos and held a rifle to his shoulder. Once again, he fired wildly at the train above me. He probably had an AR-15 or maybe even an M16 that was set up for full auto, because he just held the trigger down and sprayed rounds at us. They splattered against the train, going higher and higher. Not one of them came low.
He must not have seen me or my muzzle at all. Or maybe in the dark he just assumed it was from Rivers.
I heard a cry of pain and a curse from above me. I knew Rivers had been hit.
I gritted my teeth and sighted in on the man, thumbing my selector to burst. Even though I was afraid and worried for Rivers, I followed my training and eased the trigger, not jerked it, and the bullets found their mark. The man yelled something unintelligible and pitched over. In the scope, I actually saw a fountain of greenish blood spray out as he fell.
“Gunny!” I shouted, “You okay?”
“I’m alive,” Rivers said in a way I didn’t like, “But I’m hit. Fucking arm…”
“Shit!” I cursed. Then louder, “Which one?”
“Right,” She said with a grunt of pain.
I had to get up there. I waited a few seconds as I scanned the distance behind the train. The first guy I’d shot, or maybe I’d hit his tree, was nowhere in sight. I was looking to the right again when I caught movement maybe ten yards closer from the second guy I’d shot at.
I couldn’t tell if it was the third shooter. I just fired a burst in that direction and slid backward until I could roll out from under the train car and jump to my feet.
I ran full tilt along the car until I got to the forward end. I had to get up there and see to Rivers, but I couldn’t risk going up the ladder she’d gone up. I’d stick out like a sore camo thumb against the black steel of the train. The third guy, or any others out there, would pick me off.
I made it without incident and went between the cars and began to climb another ladder. I poked my head over the top of the car and saw Rivers lying flat on top and not moving.
For a second, I feared she was dead… but then I figured… hoped, really, that she was just being still so as not to present a target.
I grabbed the radio as I clung to the ladder, “Blue two, Red three! We’re under fire and Red four is hit!”
“Red three,” Sam�
��s voice came over the radio, “Can you get to her?”
“Roger,” I replied, “how’s blue two?”
“Red team,” Mom’s voice crackled over the channel, “We’re pinned down ten cars back from the engine! At least eight bogies split up on either side of us! And don’t try to get her unless you can do it safely, red three! Sorry red four if you can hear me…”
“I’m good!” I called back, “Out.”
All was quiet for the moment. I figured I’d taken out two of the shooters and the third was either hiding or shifting position. I gritted my teeth and slid up onto the freight car and began crawling toward Rivers.
“Christ…” I grumbled aloud. Covering the seventy feet at this pace would take forever.
I swallowed, took a deep breath and then got up and began a weird crouching run toward her. And of course, as I got close, I heard a shot crackle to my right from the vicinity of the woods. I swear I felt the bullet pass by.
I dove to the metal roof only ten feet from Rivers. She was still lying flat, facing the back of the train. I began to slither toward her, spreading myself thin so that the shooter couldn’t get an angle on me.
“Gunny!” I hissed as I got to her boots, “Gunny, are you okay?”
“Andy?” She asked, turning her head toward me, “What the fuck are you doing up here?”
“Saving you, naturally,” I said with bravado I didn’t feel, “Where are you hit?”
Another shot boomed out to my right. I could only assume the bullet went over us. As long as that prick was out there lobbing shots, I couldn’t do much for Rivers’ arm.
“Upper arm in the bicep,” She said, “What about our friend down there?”
“I got two of them,” I said, “But he’s moved and is on our flank.”
“He probably can’t get a bead on us because of the height of the train and him being so much lower,” Rivers whispered, “But if we raise up even a little, he could hit one of us.”
