Six Feet From Hell: Books 1 - 3

by Coley, Joseph

  It was time to leave.

  CHAPTER 5

  Joe and Ronnie sped down the road leading into the town of Rural Retreat and their date with a train. The two men sat silently as they made their way down the darkened road. It was nearly 4 A.M. according to the clock on Ronnie’s truck. Joe pounded his fist against the dash of Ronnie’s truck, disgusted with himself and their current situation.

  “Dammit! I did not want to have to do this shit in the middle of the fucking night!” Joe rested his head on the dash of the truck, gripping his M4 tighter as he did. He sat up and looked over to Ronnie, who was desperately searching the night for the telltale sign of taillights in front of him. There was none. Balboa’s Humvee was behind them, several car lengths back keeping pace with Ronnie and Joe. The stark blackness of the night was going to make it difficult to get the train loaded, as Joe was well aware. Joe was pondering the difficulties of the nighttime train catching when Ronnie interrupted him.

  “I think I see ‘em! Up ahead, they’re going around that next curve I think.”

  Joe squinted and leaned forward to get a look. He saw the faint red glow of brake lights. “Yeah, I see ‘em too. Did you notice if everybody got out all right? Did Buffey and Rickey and Dakota make it?”

  “I saw ‘em run past us when we were tryin’ to keep the door closed. I think we got everybody.” Ronnie responded. “I think we got all the supplies loaded into the vehicles last night, too.” Ronnie looked over to Joe who was obviously sweating the situation. Ronnie reached over with his free hand and clapped Joe on the shoulder. “We will be fine. Just gotta catch that last train out of town.” Ronnie snickered, trying to lighten the mood. Joe did not want to hear it.

  “What the hell happened? Why didn’t Ashleigh come back inside and try to warn us? They are damn lucky it woke me up first or we all would have been zombie food.”

  “Ashleigh? I thought Chris was still on watch. I saw him outside as we were leaving.” Ronnie added.

  “Shit, it’s hard to tell. I’ll deal with this shit when we get a chance to. Right now we gotta get to town and get that damn train goin’.”

  “Did you figure out how to drive that damn thing?” Ronnie asked.

  Joe shook off his anger at the situation and addressed Ronnie. “Yeah, yeah, I think I can get us going. I just wanted a little more time with the damn manuals. I don’t suppose anybody got them when we were running for our lives?”

  Ronnie laughed. “I don’t think they were real high on the list of shit to grab. Don’t worry; it will come back to you. You’re a smart guy.” Joe hoped like hell that Ronnie was right.

  Ronnie continued into town, through the near pitch black. The only light they had to go by were the headlights of Ronnie’s truck and the occasional house fire that was still burning as they entered. Ronnie steered his way past the Rescue Squad and Fire Department buildings to the train crossing where their exit strategy was parked. Buffey’s van and Chris’ truck were both positioned beside of the train, their headlights trained on the lead engine. Ronnie pulled up and parked his truck near the first boxcar. He and Joe got out of the pickup and Joe made his way over to Buffey and Rickey. Rickey saw his daddy before he saw them and ran up to him gleefully.

  “Daddy! You made it!” Joe dropped to one knee and met his son’s embrace as he ran up. Buffey saw the exchange between the two and let out a nervous smile. She had Dakota in the papoose around the front of her body. The baby and she were both fine, a great relief to Joe and Ronnie.

  Joe began giving orders to match the crudely drawn plans that he had made out the day before. Both engines were filled with day-to-day items. The baby’s food was kept in the second car, as well as his items. The ammo and guns were split evenly between the first and second cars as well as food and water. Buffey and Ashleigh were handling the supplies going into the first engine as Chris and Balboa were behind the second boxcar attempting to unhook the cars from the rest of the train.

  Joe was making sure that every person was doing their assigned job when he heard a commotion coming from the rear of the second boxcar. Chris and Balboa were arguing over something. Joe set aside his rifle and went to see what all the fuss was about. He stalked over to where Chris and Balboa were exchanging verbal blows with each other. The words between the two men became more heated as Joe drew closer to them. He hurried over behind the second boxcar just as Balboa was taking a swing at Chris. Joe rushed in front of Balboa, preventing him from taking another swipe.

  “What the hell is your problem? You know you were in the wrong so just man up and admit it!” Balboa literally shouted over top of Joe. Joe held him back and tried to diffuse the situation.

  Chris dusted himself off after falling to the ground following Balboa’s attempt at punch. “I was not in the wrong! Those damn things were coming from the back of the house and from the damn bedroom! How the hell was I supposed to know they were back there?” Upon hearing the commotion, Jamie joined in with them as well. Chris took a step forward, lunging towards Balboa to try and return the ill-gotten favor. Joe stretched his arms out to stop the confrontation between the two men.

  “Both of you need to calm the fuck down!” Joe hissed at the two would-be combatants. “What the hell is the problem here?”

  “Tell him! Tell him how you and Ashleigh screwin’ in the back of your truck damn near got us killed!” Balboa swiped Joe’s hand away and took a step back. Joe turned slowly towards Chris and looked at him with suspecting eyes. “What is he talking about?”

  Chris looked down at the ground, shamefully. Joe did not need an answer, as Chris’ expression and lack of speech told him all he needed to know. Joe sighed deeply and hung his own head. Balboa, still fuming, went back to work on the coupling for the boxcar. Joe pulled Chris off to the side, away from Balboa and the boxcar as Jamie stepped in to help with the train car. Joe grabbed him by the arm and pulled him in front. Chris still had his head hung low, not making eye contact with Joe. Joe rubbed his forehead, not wanting to discuss what he was about to with Chris.

  “Look, I need everybody to be at the top of their game right now. I can’t have people on watch screwing each other when the rest of us are vulnerable. If you can’t handle that then maybe you shouldn’t be on watch anymore.”

  Chris eyes darted up. “Why the hell not? It just happened this one time. It won’t happen again.”

  “You’re damn right it won’t. Because the next time that it does, we might not be so lucky. Watch your damn p’s and q’s from now on. Get over with Ronnie and Buffey and see if you can give them a hand with getting’ all that shit in the train.” Chris silently nodded and went over to help with moving the supplies into the train.

  Joe stood by and looked over his group as they kept themselves busy. He once again had been saddled with the epitaph of “leader” without much of any discussion on the matter. He was thrust into the position against his will for the second time. Not that he relished the role nor despised it; he was simply not ready for it at such a moment’s notice. The weight of responsibility had not fell on his shoulders squarely before. He had simply not been in enough leadership positions throughout his life to warrant being the immediate “go-to” guy. He had been a fire team leader during his tenure in the Army Reserves, which was now most assuredly over as well as being the fifth grade DARE club president. The latter of the two being completely irrelevant now. He needed to be the leader, to accept the hand that was given to him and stop worrying about if he was doing the right thing. He needed to just go with the flow and see what happened.

  “What are we gonna do with these?” Balboa had produced several empty Jerry cans. Joe realized they would need the extra diesel if they wanted to keep up the Humvee and, in a worst-case scenario- would need it for the train if it decided to run out as well.

  Joe’s eyes darted around near the now-abandoned gas station that was around fifty yards away. The pumps would not work without power and he doubted there was enough left in the lines to do them any favo
rs. He kept looking until he spotted the far end of a tanker truck. Joe squinted at the truck to try and read the placard, praying that it be diesel. He pointed to the far end of the truck and motioned Balboa to it.

  “Go and check out that tanker. With any luck, it’ll have some diesel in it. Just bleed the line on it and see what’s in it first,” Joe said, turning back to Balboa.

  “Will do, boss. Chris, come with me and give me a hand; I'm sure as shit not going over there alone.” Balboa was attempting to quickly make nice with Chris, and it seemed to be working. Chris nodded and grabbed his shotgun, picking up pace behind Balboa.

  Both men darted across the tracks quickly, scanning the area as they did. Their task was a simple one, and was accomplished in short duration as the tanker was thankfully loaded with diesel. Balboa filled up the cans and passed one to Chris and carried the other two himself, leaving one of Chris’ hands free to fire if necessary. The bolted as quickly as the heavy cans would let them back across the tracks and tossed the cans in the back of the Humvee. The two men nodded and went back about their duties loading the train.

  Balboa and Jamie got the cars uncoupled and let Joe know that it was good to go. Joe climbed up into the cab of the first engine and scanned around for the right dials and levers to get the train running. A ubiquitous START button was nowhere to be found. He looked about the cabin until he found what he was looking for. There was a switch, not unlike the large circuit breakers from old Frankenstein movies. Joe threw the switch, closing the circuit and heard the distinctive hum of electricity. The panel behind him lit up with what looked like about a hundred switches, which he turned all to the ON position. The lights on the train and in the cab all lit up as well as cutting on the fuel pump and gauges. The fuel gauge read slightly below three quarters of a tank. Joe breathed a sigh of relief as he read the gauges, all in the GREEN area. The manuals had said to make sure for the particular model that they were in that he had to go to the engine room and force out all the air from the fuel system. He turned the switch and held it as it had said to do. The fuel system was ready to go. Joe turned the switch in the opposite position and the train roared to life. Joe went back down the corridor to the front of the engine and checked all of the displays again. Once the pressure had built up in the brakes, he set them and went back to the back of the train to release the hand brake. Joe put the throttle in the “1” position and the train lurched forward. A cheer erupted from his cohorts as the train moved forward ever so slightly. Once it had moved far enough ahead, Joe engaged the brakes and slowly brought the train to a halt again. The immense noise was going to attract unwanted guests, so as soon as the train was stopped he set the brakes again and got down from the cab.

  “Get the Humvee into the second car! Quickly, I don’t know how much time we have! Everybody except Balboa get into the engines. Get that Humvee in, and then get your ass into the second locomotive!” Joe shouted over the din of the engine. As his friends got into their respective cabs, Joe climbed into the second engine and repeated the starting process. He released the brakes, but did not move the throttle, as the first engine would be doing the bulk of the work. If the time came that the first engine ran out of fuel, they would use the second to power them forward. Balboa pulled the Humvee over the tracks and approached the back of the boxcar with it. The doors had thankfully been made for the boxcar to accept vehicles and laid down in front of him like a large ramp. He pulled the Humvee into the car, set the parking brake, and killed the engine. Balboa wrenched the large pins loose from the doors and let them fall away. He ran up to the second cab as Joe was exiting it. He tossed Joe a small bag. Inside it was a portable radio with a charging base for it. “If you need me or I need you – channel 3!”

  Jamie was the last to embark on the first train. He glanced around the area, not sure what was supposed to be out of the ordinary and what was not. He scanned the area with his rifle, both eyes open, looking through the red dot sight on his AR-15. He eyed movement as he swung back and forth. Balboa turned on the headlights to the Humvee and as soon as he did, they fell on a pair of zombies that were slowly shambling their way up to Jamie. Jamie did not want to attract more attention, but with the steady loud drone of the engine, it did not matter. Jamie raised his rifle and placed the red dot squarely on the head of the first walker and fired. The impact from the .223 round splattered almost squarely in the eye of the walker. Jamie swung the rifle and double tapped the second zombie, with much of the same results. The mist of blood and gray matter was just barely detectable in the early morning hours, but Jamie was positive that he had nailed it. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and climbed the ladder to the first engine.

  Joe was already inside of the first car. He switched on the radio and called for Balboa. His voice came across the tinny radio. “Loud and clear! What say we get the hell outta here Mr. Conductor?”

  “Ain’t gotta tell me twice!” Joe replied, smiling. He eased the throttle back into the “1” position and again, the train lurched forward. They may not have had the best luck so far, but they were well on their way now, headed towards Mississippi with enough guns, ammo, food, and supplies to last them the trip. They did not know how long of a trip it would be, but they would be ready for damn near anything now.

  Jamie glanced out of the window to the two zombies that he had taken out before getting on the train. He squinted and looked down to the two bodies crumpled up on the ground. The first zombie stirred ever so slightly. Jamie’s eyes widened at the movement, he was certain that he had got at least one clean shot off on the ghoul. He shook his head and dismissed the thought that the zombie was moving.

  After all, headshots kill zombies.

  CHAPTER 6

  By the time the sun came up, the group was miles away from their hometown of Rural Retreat, headed south-southwest. The early sign of “red in the morning, sailors take warning” was not lost on Joe. They had managed to get aboard the train and get moving down the track far too easy. Their direction of travel had taken them by a few undead, moaning and trying in vain to catch the train with their outstretched arms. The train moved along at an average speed of a little less than 30 mph in an effort to keep an eye on any obstructions they might encounter. And God forbid if there was another train on the track. In a matter of a few minutes at their current pace, they would be nearing the Tennessee state line. The arrangement of personnel in each engine differed from how the plan was laid out. Joe was piloting the main engine; along with him were Buffey, Rickey, Dakota, and Ronnie. Balboa was in charge of the second engine and with him were Chris, Ashleigh, and Jamie. Joe was not particularly pleased with the fact that Chris had ended up with Balboa on the same train, considering their scuffle earlier but was nonetheless pleased with the current layout. Joe was manning the main engine when Ronnie came and stood beside him. His face and clothes were both haggard looking and made him look older than his 23 years would let on. He slumped down on the floor by Joe’s feet as he manned the train down the tracks towards their rescue.

  “I haven’t had much time to tell ya, but I appreciate all that you’ve done so far. I know everybody kind of looks at you like our leader.” Ronnie hit the nail on the head, Joe turned to talk to him.

  “Yeah, I know, and for what it’s worth your welcome,” Joe said, managing a weak smile. “I don’t really have a clue what I’m doing but at least you’re all in on it.”

  Ronnie now let a smile out. “So, how do you operate this damned thing? Looks complicated.”

  “Nah, not too awfully hard. Just have to make sure it stays on the rails, other than that, not much to it.”

  “Mind if I try it for a bit. Never know when it might come in handy for someone else to know how to operate this behemoth.”

  Joe got up from the console and motioned for Ronnie to take a seat. Ronnie obliged, sitting down and instinctively holding the throttle and the braking system for the train. Joe went through the process of how to throw the Frankenstein switch, followed by the man
y switches on the circuit board, covering everything from the lights to the fuel pump. Ronnie was a quick learner, grasping the concept of the train with relative ease. With Ronnie at the helm, Joe contacted Balboa on the two-way radio. His voice crackled across the two-way saying everything was looking normal and in the green on the second engine. Joe clipped the radio to his belt and opened the door leading out on the walkway. A cool gust of air rushed in as he did so. Joe stepped out onto the walkway and watched the sun start creeping over the horizon, greeting them for the day. In the few days since the end of the world, Joe had few opportunities just to close his eyes and enjoy a few moments to himself as he did now. He reached into his pocket and procured the pack of cigarettes in it. He lit one up as he stood on the walkway and breathed the fire into and out of his lungs. The calming effect that it had on him was just what he needed to keep focused on the task at hand. He finished sucking down the nicotine and flipped the butt at a passing ghoul as the tank on rails drove by. Even the fast moving zombies were not match for the locomotive. The ones that made the mistake of shambling in front of the train had a much worse fate, 200 tons of steel does not do a body good.

  The group steamrolled their way out of Virginia and into Tennessee within a few hours. By comparison, it would normally only take 45 minutes to go from Joe and Buffey’s house to Bristol, Tennessee. Considering the train was going roughly half the speed they normally would, two hours to get across the state line was not too bad. They passed many railroad crossings once they got closer to the Tri-Cities area (Bristol, Kingsport, and Johnson City, Tennessee), but was nonetheless going right along on schedule. That is, if they had a schedule. The crew paced back and forth during the morning hours as they made their way into Tennessee. They all had been awake since 4 A.M., but none wanted to sleep. Part of it was the excitement of the journey, part nervous energy. Joe knew that they would have to stop at some point during the trip just to keep everyone from going stir-crazy. He kept in contact with Balboa over the two-way radio, and on one occasion braved going across the walkway into the second car. Chris and Ashleigh were hard at work doing much of nothing, as was most of the rest of the crew. Jamie had managed to get a cleaning kit for the rifles and had occupied himself by making sure every one of them was in good working order.