by E. E. Borton
“How about that Joey?” said Doc, taking an open seat at our table.
“If my eyes had been closed,” I said, “I would’ve sworn it was Perry speaking.”
“I was so proud of him,” said Kelly, joining our table and setting glasses of trouble in front of us. “Everyone needed to hear that. It was perfect.”
We all stood as Mrs. Jasmine Cromartie was escorted to our table by her sons. (That woman made the best biscuits I’d ever had in my life.) She was frail, but her smile and bright eyes were contagious. After a round of hugs, JD and Tucker helped her into her seat and took theirs beside her. The Cromarties were one of the few families who refused to abandon their land for the safety of Stevenson.
“Good Lord, child,” said Mrs. Cromartie, smiling at Kelly. “I don’t see you enough, but you get more beautiful every time I do.”
“Aw,” said Kelly, reaching over for her hand. “So do you.”
“Please, girl. That ship has sailed long, long ago.”
“Stop it,” said Doc. “You are radiant, my dear. Always have been and always will be.”
“Well, thank you,” said Mrs. Cromartie, leaning toward me. “And I’ve got something special heating up for you, handsome.”
“You’re kidding me!” I said, widening my eyes.
“Nope. I told Mrs. Harper to bring one out to you as soon as they came out of the oven.”
“I love you,” I said, leaning over Tucker to give her another hug.
We pulled another table next to ours as more smiling faces arrived with plates of food and glasses of gasoline fresh from Parker’s still. Doug and Daniel Kramer and their family settled in as River and Joey brought Donna to join us. JD gave up his seat so the two mothers could sit beside each other.
Stories came from every seat as we spoke of our favorite moments with Perry. Tears of laughter replaced tears of sorrow as his life was celebrated with fond memories. I looked over at the faces that would be on the train with me in the morning, but none of us spoke of the mission. There would be plenty of time for that on our way to Chattanooga.
As the hours passed and the glasses were refilled, Kelly reached for my hand on the table. There was an eruption of laughter as Gunny entertained with his animated stories of my uncle. She squeezed my hand and leaned in close.
“I understand,” she said, whispering in my ear. “I don’t like it, but I understand. This is why you have to go. You want to protect this. You want to make sure this is here when you come home.”
After a kiss that I never wanted to end, I smiled at that beautiful face. There was truth in her words, but preservation of the town was a small part of the reason. She was the rest.
“You are my home.”
Chapter 27
All Aboard
It was difficult sleeping with the knowledge that I might not see her again – feel her again – for a week, maybe longer. I wanted to absorb every waking second and fought against my heavy eyes. I don’t remember when I did succumb, but I do know it wasn’t long enough.
I did my best not to wake her when I added wood to our fires. It gave me a few moments alone in the kitchen with a hot cup of coffee and my thoughts. It was time to prepare myself for the journey.
It would be the farthest the train had traveled outside of Stevenson. It would be the farthest that thing had traveled in sixty years. It was our only hope to get ahead of the General and what was left of his troops, but I worried the old girl didn’t have the legs to get us to Chattanooga, let alone get herself home.
Losing that train would devastate our towns. What put my mind at ease were the old-timers who would be driving and tending to her. I had a feeling they didn’t get much sleep either. I realized I was right when I stood on my front porch and saw the light from the lanterns at the station. It was still an hour before sunrise.
“That’s because he’s dumber than this here wrench,” said Parker. “Tell that fool when I said hose, I meant fire hose, not a damn garden hose. It’ll take us all day to fill that tank, and we ain’t gonna have all day.”
“You need to be more specific with your instructions to them,” said Bruce. “None of those boys have ever run a steam locomotive. They’re doin’ their best, you old goat.”
“Why are you still here?” asked Parker.
“Good morning, ladies,” I said, walking up and standing behind them.
“Jesus Christ, boy,” said Parker, dropping his wrench. “You damn near gave me a heart attack.”
“You have to have a heart to have a heart attack,” said Bruce, smiling at me and shaking my hand. “Good morning, son. You’re up early.”
“So are you two,” I said. “You’ve been working all night?”
“I have,” said Parker. “Can’t say the same for my girlfriend here.”
“They all have,” said Bruce, turning to look at the men busy on the platform. “We couldn’t have done it without them. We’ll have time to catch a few hours of sleep before we leave. We’re almost finished here.”
“Did it need that many repairs?” I asked, earning a scowl from Parker.
“Hell no,” said Parker. “This here is a finely tuned machine. She’ll take you all the way to San Fran and back.”
“The problem was water,” said Bruce. “On a full tank, she can only steam about ten miles before she needs to be replenished. In the old days, water tanks used to line the tracks about every seven miles.”
“You’d have to stop at every one to top off,” said Parker, “unless you had a water tender attached, and we ain’t got no tender. So we’re making one.”
“We’re putting barrels and anything else that can hold a decent amount of water in the first car. We rigged up hand pumps to feed it directly into the tank on the engine. We need to limit the number of stops before dropping you boys off.”
“Unless that idiot can’t find a fire hose on a fire engine,” said Parker.
“I’ll make sure he does,” said Bruce. “It’s a sixty-mile round trip to the outskirts of Chattanooga. We’ll have enough water and wood onboard for over a hundred miles if we need it.”
“So we won’t need to stop at all?” I asked.
“That, we don’t know yet,” said Parker. “If all the switches are in line, no. If they ain’t, we’re gonna have to stop and make em’ that way.”
“We also have to worry about any barricades or missing track,” said Bruce. “The big difference with this trip is, we have no idea what conditions we may come across. Nobody is going to be scouting up the rails for us. We’ll just have to take it as it comes.”
“There’s a pretty good chance we’re all gonna die out there today,” said Parker. “I want you to know I’m okay with that.”
“That’s good, Parker,” I said. “But if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to stick around a bit longer.”
“Suit yourself.”
“He’s being a bit melodramatic,” said Bruce, chuckling. “Not enough time has passed for the rails to deteriorate. The switches will be easy enough to change if need be.”
“Any problems we come across are going to be man made,” I said.
“That’s a true statement,” said Gunny, joining us.” We’ll prepare for that as well. We’re remounting both .50s on top of the cars and guns will be hanging out of every window. The militia left us plenty of automatic weapons and ammunition. If someone is looking to hijack a train, they’ll regret choosing this one.
“In spite of Parker’s wish to move on to the next world, we’ll get you to the city, son. After that, you boys are gonna be on your own.”
“We appreciate that, Gunny,” I said. “And the ride.”
“I figured it was the least we could do since you boys are gonna be walking back,” said Gunny. “They couldn’t sleep either. They’re all inside. Let’s go over the plan again.”
“Roger that.”
JD, Tucker, and the Kramer brothers were inside the station hovering over a map of Chattanooga. All of them were more familiar
with the city than I was. I wouldn’t be able to add much to the plan until we set up our ambush.
For me, it wasn’t as important to know the route by heart. We could carry maps. It was more important to know that every doorway, window, roof, and corner in the city could hide something that was waiting to kill us. That’s if Mother Nature let us get that far.
“I still think we should just cross the river as soon as we get off the train,” said Tucker. “We can bypass the entire city.”
“We’d have to wait until nightfall to cross,” said JD. “Trying it during the day would be suicide. The river is at least a quarter-mile wide. Everybody with a gun would be taking shots at us.”
“We won’t have time to wait for a night crossing,” said Doug. “Not only that, we’d need to find a boat. I have a feeling that’s going to be harder than it sounds.”
“It will be,” said Gunny. “Anything that could get someone the hell out of there will be gone. Boats would’ve been their first choice.”
“A water crossing is going to be our last option,” I said. “It’s getting colder outside. Hypothermia is going to be a problem. We won’t have the luxury of building a fire or drying our clothes. No, we need to find a way across one of those four bridges.”
“How do we do that?” asked Tucker. “I imagine they’ll be controlled by someone.”
“More than likely the strongest group in the city,” said Gunny. “Our best-case scenario is that they’ll expect some kind of toll. Worst case, they shoot on sight.”
“Either way,” said JD, “we ain’t just walkin’ over. We gotta pay or fight.”
“We’ll deal with the bridges when we get there,” said Doug. “I think the best route getting to them will be along Riverside Parkway. It’s mostly warehouses with very few buildings over two stories. We’ll be able to scope out longer distances than we could moving through downtown.”
“I agree,” I said. “Our advantage over most of the people in the city is going to be JD and Tucker. They’ll be able to cover us more effectively with fewer obstacles blocking their view. If we’re going to make contact, more than likely, it’ll come from the front.”
“Unfortunately, speed is going to be the key out there,” said Gunny. “It’s also going to be your biggest disadvantage. You can’t let your guard down for one second. They’ll make you pay for it if you do.”
“It’s a completely different environment, Tucker,” I said. “There are no trees or brush for cover. We’re going to be exposed and in danger the entire time we’re out there. They’ve had months to prepare for anyone walking the streets.”
“You’re talking to me like I’ve never been in a city or a gunfight before,” said Tucker.
“You’ve never been in both at the same time,” I said. “That’s the difference.”
“I haven’t either,” said JD, “but we got your backs. I don’t see much difference between a light pole and a tree or cars and brush. If somethin’s movin’, we’ll kill it before you know it’s there.”
“You two make me very happy,” I said.
“Us too,” said Doug, smiling with his brother. “For not being trained in the military, you two are the best snipers we’ve ever worked with.”
We took notes and memorized as much of the map as possible. Chokepoints, exit strategies, and alternate routes were discussed until after sunrise. We were as prepared as we were ever going to be. It was time to say goodbye.
JD’s mother, the Kramer family, and Kelly made it easier for us. They were congregated in Perry’s home. I had a feeling they were all tired of watching us leave. It was the first time I’d be leaving home without my uncle at my side.
We sat around the table and enjoyed a large breakfast with smiles and occasional laughter. We had a feeling it would be our last hot meal for a while. It grew quieter as the time grew near to leave. We separated into smaller groups and stuffed our packs with food, water, and gear. Each family put personal touches in with the items we were taking.
I felt anxious to get started. I think we all did. The sooner we took care of business out there, the sooner we could get home. Kelly was sitting next to me, but I was already missing her.
“This is getting old,” she said. “And you’re making me an old woman before my time. You need to take a break when you get back.”
“That’s my plan,” I said. “We take out Castle, and we’ll get to rest longer than a day.”
“I know you guys are going through the city,” said Kelly, looking down at the floor. “That terrifies me.”
“It terrifies us as well,” I said. “I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like now. I’m glad we won’t be there for long.”
“I feel a little better knowing you won’t be alone this time,” said Kelly, raising her head. “I know you’ll look out for each other. I just can’t help thinking about Perry.”
“I know, baby,” I said, taking her hand. “We have a good plan, plenty of supplies, and a comfortable ride most of the way. We’ll be moving fast on fresh legs and full bellies. On top of that, nobody there will be expecting company. We’ll be in and out before they know what hit them.”
“Perry had most of those things as well,” said Kelly.
“I do things differently than my uncle,” I said, leaning in closer and lowering my voice. “So do the boys. We don’t give the benefit of the doubt. We don’t hesitate. We’ll know what’s going to happen to them before they do. It’s why you’re sitting here holding my hand instead of kneeling at a grave.
“My uncle believed there was always a time and a place to reason with people. His plan would be to reach out to the fine folks in Chattanooga and work out some kind of compromise. He would plead with them to let us pass so we can get back to our families. He would do everything in his power to avoid a fight.
“Me? I’ll burn that fucking city to the ground getting home to you.”
Chapter 28
Once More Unto the Breach
The train snorted and hissed as we climbed onboard. It looked like every soul in Stevenson was lining the rails. As I settled into my seat and looked out of the window, it seemed as if every face showed a different emotion. Some were smiling; some were crying; some looked angry; some looked scared. But all the faces had one thing in common. They all looked as if they would never see ours again.
Out of the twenty-seven men and women onboard, five of us wouldn’t be riding the train back to Stevenson. We were grouped together in the back of the second car. The faces around us may have been skeptical that we would all make it back, but mine wasn’t. I was with the most dangerous and capable men I knew. As the car lurched forward and children started running alongside the train, I could see the change in my guys.
JD and Tucker are brothers by blood and so are Doug and Daniel. But we are all brothers by battle. We know the consequences of taking a life in a fight. They didn’t outweigh the consequences of losing one. Each of us know how far the other would go when confrontation is unavoidable. There are no rules. There is no fair or unfair in a fight. There is only winning.
There is a common thread that binds uncommon men. It’s what separates the four I’m with from most others. It’s an instinctual reaction to a mortal threat that can’t be taught. When it’s unleashed, it can’t be controlled. When it’s dormant, it can’t be found.
I’ve witnessed it in each of them. When the time comes to kill or be killed, there is no hesitation. It’s an immediate response to engage the threat with every ounce of violence they possess. There is no gradual increase of adrenaline or action. It’s an instant and total commitment to focused rage and chaos.
We were given the same farewell from the townspeople lining the tracks of Bridgeport. As with the faces of Stevenson, I’m sure they all held high hopes for our success, but expected us to pay a price. Everyone had heard the rumors about the savagery that was taking place in the cities. Rampant cannibalism and barbaric gangs fueled the nightmares of both the young and old. I had no rea
son to doubt them.
“We’re coming up on the dam,” said Gunny, taking a seat next to us. “After that, no telling what’s out there. How are you guys holding up?”
“We’re good, Gunny,” said JD, raising his voice over the bellowing engine.
“We’ll be hitting the first set of switches in a couple of miles,” said Gunny. “Train may slow down a bit. I guess they have some kind of color code on them. If it’s the wrong color, they’ll have to stop the train.”
“Understood,” said Doug. “We’ll keep our eyes peeled.”
“Any questions about the route or the plans?” asked Gunny.
“I think we’re good,” I said, getting nods from the others.
“All right then,” said Gunny. “Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”
It was as if we crossed an invisible line separating our little world from the rest of the planet. Nobody on the train had been so far away from town in several months. We scanned outside of our windows for signs of trouble, but we also wanted to catch a glimpse of what our new world held for us.
For several miles, the switches were the right color, and the train moved along at a brisk pace. Nobody spoke as all eyes were glued to the scenery passing by and all hands were glued to their rifles. Minus the firepower, we might as well have been on the monorail at Disneyland.
Our route was along the southernmost edge of the Appalachian Valley. It was rugged terrain with few populated areas along the rails west of Chattanooga. We would focus our attention on the occasional cabin or groupings of homes, but for the most part it was an isolated stretch of track. As the train crested a rise, we had a better view of the landscape around us.
For a few minutes, we could see for miles. There was a small town to the North of us, but it was too far away to see any activity or people. Thick forest dominated everything else. The only sign of life was a thin pillar of smoke on the other side of a ridgeline at the horizon. We saw nothing remarkable or threatening until the train started to slow. One of the men brought our attention to a quarry on the hillside a short distance up the tracks.
