Dark Humanity

by Gwynn White

  He didn't mention part of his request was so he wouldn't have to worry about her and Grandma in the back. He wanted her up in the engine where she'd at least have some protection. In a perfect world, he'd get Grandma up into the engine as well, but without her wheelchair or walker to move her, he didn't want to risk having her on the ground if the train started moving again.

  When the train decelerated, he was ready. When it had nearly stopped, he was off and running.

  “I'll be right back!”

  Victoria, fading behind him, shouted, “Good luck!”

  He approached the rear car to the sound of guns. A few shooters were alive on the flatcar, and they were cleaning up a few remaining zombies as best they could. Many of the survivors were climbing off that last car, making for the safety of the high gondola cars, or the tops of boxcars.

  “Grandma,” he shouted when he spotted her, still under the truck axle.

  “Hi, Liam. What a beautiful morning,” she replied, pointing up at the sky.

  “Yeah, sure. Glad you're in such good spirits. I was worried sick!”

  “You left me in good hands. Though we lost a lot of good people.”

  He climbed up, then shimmied under the trailer so he could be next to her. He gave her a hug. Despite her appearance of being on a pleasant morning train excursion, her hands were trembling. That was a first. He grabbed some water and small grain bars from his backpack and shared with her. He also reloaded his gun and dumped a ton of the small shells into his pockets, so he'd had some with him.

  They watched as the last of the injured zombies were cleared from their rail car by the few remaining gun handlers. Everyone that hadn't moved to other cars was sitting or standing in a small area near the front of the flatcar. The back half was now tainted with lots of blood, though the bodies themselves had been pushed off.

  “They're picking someone up, and then the train will be moving again.”

  He looked over his shoulder to see if they were being followed. The front of the zombie wave from their engagement at the quarry was slowly coming around the corner. They were still several minutes behind, but inexorably closing the distance.

  Liam lifted his radio from his backpack.

  “This is Liam. We have to move the train. The horde will be here in minutes. Over.”

  There was no reply.

  Is this thing on?

  He tried a few more times and still got no response. The train hadn't moved either. He thought angrily of every movie he'd ever seen where the radio goes out at the most inopportune time. He couldn't fathom how that radio would similarly fail at his most desperate hour.

  “Grandma, will you be OK back here? I have to run up front and tell them what's coming.”

  “I'm not going anywhere. I'm a little sore from that big man throwing me. Did he save those people, dear?”

  “He saved 'em, yep.” He avoided his eventual fate.

  “Oh, that's wonderful,” she replied, appearing satisfied.

  “I'll be back for you!” He grabbed his backpack this time, slid out from under the trailer, then off the flat deck. He gave her one quick look, waved, and dashed away.

  The zombie pursuit was slowly approaching.

  At least they can't run.

  He wondered how far he'd run today. He was sprinting once again, twenty rail cars at a time. He spotted Victoria as he rounded the halfway point of the train. There was a slight curve in the track, turning to the right.

  She was a mess. Bruised face. Hair was as wild as a cave girl. Dress was torn in several places. Legs and arms were coal-covered and sweat-soaked from exertion. He thought she looked like an obsidian angel. Dark and beautiful.

  “Get your buns up here!” she ordered.

  He ran the rest of the way, and she gave him a warm hug as he climbed aboard.

  “I thought you'd been taken.”

  “I've only been gone a couple of minutes.”

  “Seemed like you were gone for a half hour. I'm sorry, I have a horrible sense of time.”

  “Let's get inside. The train has to move, now.” Together they entered the engine cab, but the driver wasn't there.

  They found her on the other side of the train, unloading an SUV near the front of the broken engine. There were several kids, a man who must have been her husband, and an older woman. They were all carrying flats of bottled water, pillows and things for the kids, and several guns. They were piling everything on the end of the platform where he was standing. He moved to help put the gear inside the engine where it would be protected. Victoria did the same.

  “We have to hurry! There are zombies near the back of the train again,” he called down, unsure who might be listening.

  He didn't hear the guns yet, which would be the telltale sign trouble had arrived.

  To his relief, the man clambered onto the engine and ran past him into the compartment. To no one in particular, he yelled out, “I snapped the brake lines on the dead engine. We can open her up now.” His accent was similar to the woman engineer, if not a little stronger.

  Once inside the compartment, the man went to work spinning up the engine. Liam assumed he must be the engineer husband of the woman who had been driving. The horn rang out multiple times, each time a long three-second blast. No mistaking it was time to leave, though few were loitering off the train itself.

  The kids came up next. Two young boys, about nine or ten years old, both dressed in jeans and sweatshirts—like they were trying to wear some protection from the biters. Liam thought it might backfire given the heat of the days of June, but he commended them for thinking ahead.

  Last up was the woman engineer and her older friend. Once aboard, she ran into the compartment and shouted, “Aboard!”

  Shooting started in the rear of the train as it lurched forward.

  The man was, indeed, the actual engineer of this train. The engine hummed at fever pitch as he tried to get them up to a fast cruising speed. After many hours of running along at a near-to-walking pace, it felt like they were on a bullet train. They still pushed the dead engine, but it was no longer sparking and thundering. They were free of that problem, and the powerful engine hit its stride quickly.

  “This is amazing!” he shouted.

  He had just enough time to celebrate feeling the wind in his hair with Victoria as they hung on to the side rails when the train hit the brakes hard and began a screeching deceleration.

  She lost her balance and bumped into him like any number of students had done by trying to get up before the school bus was stopped. This was the first time he was happy to be on the receiving end of that impact, though it didn't soften what he saw ahead.

  They were so close to freedom now. The bridge over the Meramec River, and to the suburbs, was a quarter mile in front of them.

  Directly on the other side of the trussed rail bridge, right where they needed to go, sat a roadblock. Several emergency services vehicles—including a green fire engine—sat with their lights flashing. There were police cars over there as well. But the real showstopper—a large construction crane—dangled a massive wrecking ball over the middle of the tracks.

  The superhero part of his brain tried to run the numbers on whether the train could plow through all that stuff and survive, but it came up with bad news. The engineer likely ran the same numbers and came up with the same answer as well.

  The twin engines screeched to a stop fifty or so feet from the beginning of the span. A large power-generating facility flanked by large piles of coal was to their immediate right.

  Several men stood in the middle of the bridge, near the wrecking ball, guns in hand. The message was clear: this was the end of the line.

  The engineer spoke up. “These guys again! The City of Arnold is on the other side of that river. They closed all the road bridges into their jurisdiction, including Interstate 55, which is where we tried to cross two days ago. That's when I called Tatia and told her to try to reach my train and bring it south so I could meet her. I was
hopeful they hadn't blocked this route, though I should have known better.”

  A few handfuls of people huddled in the bushes and trees as near as possible to the bridge. Others loitered around the power plant. No one came out to greet the train. He figured they were watching this new development at the blockade. If those people weren't being allowed to cross, what hope did the people on the train have?

  The engineer paced around a bit, then spoke to his wife. “Is there any way we can back up the train and cross downtown? Is it still open?”

  She shook her head no.

  Her husband continued. “There are some routes through the city we might be able to use, but I bet they all end just like this one. No one wants to let any of us city folk come into their turf.”

  Minutes went by as the engineers deliberated other routes through St. Louis. None offered a sure path to safety. Less so because they could see the safety right in front of them.

  He looked at Victoria, sensing he needed to do something to help. “While you guys think about other routes, Victoria and I will go talk to the people guarding the bridge. We'll see if they're letting anyone across. Maybe they just don't want the train to cross?”

  He knew it was a lame excuse, but he wasn't running on much sleep. He very much wanted to talk to the authorities on the bridge so he could figure out what he should do next to protect Grandma and Victoria. He thought of finding a boat. Maybe swimming across in secret to get something that floats so he could help Grandma across on that. Maybe they could wade across at some point. He knew the river got shallow in lots of places. There had to be a solution.

  Hayes, who had been in the background during most of the recent action and discussions, jumped in. “As a CDC employee, maybe they'll talk to me.” Without waiting for approval, he stepped out of the cab and started down.

  The engineers and their family were content to wait in the safety of the engine, still talking about routes as he left. He suspected they were delaying a decision so they could see what would happen next.

  A couple of the St. Louis police officers had dismounted from the train and wanted to meet on the bridge as well. But Hayes was very persuasive, arguing he was their most senior government official and could get them across. Too many new people would constitute a threat to the people over the river. Better to take it slow ...

  Liam said nothing to that. It could very well be true.

  The trio walked out onto the bridge, careful to not put a foot through the open railroad ties.

  “I guess you two never leave each other's sides, huh?”

  “So what. What's it to you?” Victoria snapped, as she raised her hands high in the face of the police ahead.

  “No need to get defensive. Just making small talk,” but his tone suggested he knew he pushed her buttons.

  “That's far enough!” an officer in a black uniform shouted from ahead. “By order of the Mayor of Arnold, Missouri, you are ordered to turn around and return to the safety of your homes.”

  “Safety of our homes?” Victoria muttered.

  He softly spoke to Hayes. “I'm from Imperial. It's just south of Arnold. They might let a local through.”

  “It's OK, kid. I got this.”

  “I'm Doctor Hayes, and I work for the CDC. I'm under the direct command of the President of the United States. He orders you to allow me to proceed on foot to complete my duties relating to this pandemic!”

  The officers laughed.

  “Congratulations! You just won me fifty bucks. I bet Billy here one of you would pull that 'I'm with the government' bull.”

  “I can prove it. I have ID!” He pulled out his wallet and waved it in the air.

  “No, thanks. We aren't taking any chances with that Ebola-crap flying around.”

  “Don't you idiots know the plague is everywhere? It's already on your side of the river. I guarantee it.”

  Liam gave him a nudge. “Be nice!”

  “Our orders are to stop everyone. We have family here and aren't taking any chances.”

  Hayes thought for a moment. “What about locals? My friend here lives in Imperious, to the south of here.”

  “Imperial!” Liam shouted to correct him.

  “Ha, ha, nice try! Look, I don't care who you are. I had to send a sweet little group of nuns packing, so my sympathy meter is in the toilet. You people aren't getting across this bridge.”

  “Just allow me to come over. I'm perfectly healthy. These others aren't important. I'll make sure you're rewarded by the Federal Government.”

  The talkative officer stepped forward. He was dressed in the black uniform of the local constabulary. Liam noticed he was the only one holding an AR-style tactical rifle. The big scope was unmistakable. He seemed to take it personally. “Are you bribing us?” His rifle was pointed to the rail ties below, though there was a message there.

  Hayes huffed as if he wasn't used to being turned away from anywhere he wanted to go. He spun around and started walking back.

  Maybe he is a nobody. That's the second time today he's been turned back on a bridge.

  Inwardly, he snickered at how Hayes talked himself up but wondered if he was laughing at his own fate. If he was the important dude he claimed, they might all be safe right now.

  Victoria asked the lead cop, “Is there any hope? We have a whole train of families, kids, old seniors. Can you at least give us an idea how to survive? Their homes aren't safe. Nothing back that way is,” she said while pointing over her shoulder.

  Victoria's plea, and Hayes' retreat, seemed to placate the lead man. He slung his rifle back over his shoulder and took several steps in their direction. Still a good distance away.

  “Look. There's nothing we can do. Our orders are very clear to hold this bridge and prevent the plague from reaching our neighborhoods. Reach our families. I feel for you. I really do. But if I let you across, and the plague kills my best friend's baby girl, I'd never forgive myself.”

  He took another couple of steps.

  “You guys can hole up in that power plant. It has strong doors. Lots of room. Good for defending yourselves. It has a chance. We might even be able to get some food to you.”

  It sounded like the most reasonable thing he'd heard all day.

  Not ten seconds later shots echoed from the back of the train. He knew what that meant.

  “Thank you for your offer. Really. But that noise means the walking plague has caught up with us. We can't abandon his grandma. We have to fight.”

  With a small wave of her dirty hand, Victoria took off.

  Liam, with nothing to say, and nowhere left to run or hide, spun around and followed her.

  He sprinted ahead of Victoria. She may have been a runner, but her shoes slowed her down. He was running to rescue Grandma and wasn't stopping or slowing for anything.

  He ran past Hayes, who looked lost near the front of the dead train.

  He ran past the two engineers and their family, standing at the door of the Valkyrie's engine room. One of the little ones waved down. He had a fleeting thought he could ask the engineer to back up the train again, but that would only doom Grandma sooner.

  He yelled to the others as he went by, “Zombies are here! The train is blocked ahead.”

  As he ran by all the cars of the train, he repeated his message. He saw the confusion of those left alive. Stay on the train and fight until overwhelmed, or get off the train and hope to escape. He didn't look back to learn which choices they made. His only concern was Grandma.

  The tracks were bullet-straight here, so he could already see the last car. The zombies were widely spread out behind the train, but they were much thicker a bit further down the right-of-way. Some of them were faster than the others. Those advance zombies were picked off by the remaining shooters, but guns would be useless in a matter of minutes.

  This is it.

  He had never really appreciated the concept of death. Not even in any of the many situations he'd survived the past several days. He knew he'd been
in a bad spot with that robber, but he didn't have time to think about death until after it happened. Now he was staring at Death as it walked toward him. It felt like walking along the edge of a high cliff over a bottomless pit. He felt the anxiety trying to blossom. Would it force him to cower in a clump of flowers like he did on that first day?

  Man up, Liam!

  His father's voice was stern.

  He scrambled up onto the flatcar in one fluid running jump. Unlike his fiasco jumping the fence in Grandma's yard, he wasn't doing it to look cool. He was doing it to save lives. He was instantly pulling her out from under the trailer, apologizing profusely for being rough. She wasn't complaining though; he was glad of that.

  She was the only living person left on the trailing car. She'd been aware of that too. Perhaps assuming she was left for dead, her rosary was in her hands, and she had a speech of sorts worked up.

  “I've been very proud of you, Liam. You've certainly grown into a man the last few days. Now you have to let me go. We can't both survive this. You need to protect Victoria. I told her you would run with her.”

  Liam didn't even acknowledge the statement. He slid off the side and pulled her off the car and into his arms. He was surprised how light she was. Light, yes, but still too heavy to carry her all the way back to the bridge as the hero part of his mind was demanding.

  He set her down, put his arm around her waist, and started walking her away from the encroaching horde. Something in him solidified. He was adamant he was not going to abandon her and run. He couldn't explain the sentiment. It certainly wasn't logical, but it wasn't baseless emotionalism either. He felt compelled to save her. Like everything would be OK if he could get her to safety.

  In seconds, Victoria arrived. She grabbed Grandma on the other side, and they made even better time. Not quite a run, but a very fast walk.

  Don't look back.

  As they passed each car, they noted that some people chose to stay and fight. Others ran like mad to all points on the map. Some headed to the nearby Mississippi river—perhaps hoping to swim to safety. The fastest ran the open ground over to the coal plant. Some scrambled up the steep wooded slope nearest the back of the train. Trying to outclimb the pursuit. None of those was realistic for Grandma. Their only option was the bridge ahead.