Billie managed a partial answer. “Well there was an attempt by an enlisted man to frag him, but other than…”
Nash cut him off, “No, I mean outside of his command. You know, a civic group or another gang trying to break his stranglehold on the I-40. You mentioned clashes with gangs in Jackson.”
Little Billie said, “Oh, I got you. The thing with the Jackson gangs is over. We respect their territory and they leave us alone. The truce gives us clear passage on Interstate-40. The only active threat is a bunch of bikers working out of Chattanooga. They test our perimeter every once in a while.”
Nash stopped at the table, turned his chair around backwards and sat on it, hands gripping the side rails. “I’ve got a plan. Now you three need to tear it apart.”
“He really means it,” Betty said. “Let’s hear what you have.”
“We’ll have to move fast. First the bridge; we set it ready to blow when we’re want it to come down. “Maria, Little Billie, you know the workings… the protocols of how the unit operates. I’m going to run a scenario by you.
“”Assume the convoy’s on its way.” He glanced toward Little Billy. “I would imagine it leaves early in the morning?”
“The convoy leaves right after breakfast.”
Nash continued speaking. Okay, good; I don’t see a convoy, no matter how well armed; even one with armored vehicles trying for a speed record. How long does it usually take for the convoy to go from here to San Antonio?”
Little Billie said, “You’re right. They’ll have two motorcycles scouting ahead, but even so they seldom make more than a hundred-fifty miles in a day.”
Nash’s reply held an angry tone. “I asked about vehicles. You didn’t mention motorcycles. Motorcycles might complicate my plan. I’ll finish, but keep them in mind.
“Here we go. One of your patrols captured Betty and I sneaking around after the convoy pulled out. We’re members of the Chattanooga motorcycle gang. Colonel Haskins wanted to interrogate us, but, er… Who’s in command over in San Antonio?”
“General Morehead,” Little Billie supplied.
Nash half nodded and continued, “But General Morehead wants his men to do the questioning.” Again addressing Little Billie, “Would that play.”
Little Billie thought for a moment. “Yeah, done right it could.”
“Okay, suppose we arrive late at night. Haskins delegated you to catch up with the convoy so they can deliver Betty and me to General Morehead. If that would play, then we’d be inside their guard. Their security would be breached.”
Betty spoke up. “We’re inside their perimeter surrounded by a hundred armed men.” Then, semi-sarcastically, “I’m feeling comfortable.”
Nash shrugged it off. “Hey, I’m still working. Listen. Quite a few of the women in the convoy will be from the group we were with. Most of them were married. Think about it, Betty. Those women will be mad and ready for a chance to get even with the bunch for killing the men.”
Betty perked and sat straighter in her chair. “You’re right about that. I’m picturing Claudette Jennings inside their perimeter armed with an automatic rifle. She’d take out half of them by herself. You’re saying we have people inside who can join forces with us. It might work, but a lot of us will die fighting our way free.”
Nash countered, “What if we don’t fight” What if we commandeer the prison vans and make a run for it?”
“Don’t forget the babies inside the vans,” Betty shot back. “We’d be forced to slow down in the rough spots. They’d catch us sooner or later.”
Maria put her two cents in. “Not if you race back the way you came. That’s where Torrie and I come in. As soon as you pass under the bridge, we blow it. No more pursuit until they clear a path.”
Nash left his seat to stand. “That’s exactly right.”
Little Billie said, “I’m not saying your plan won’t work, but a lot of things could go wrong. For one, I could bluff away the paperwork… say I was hurried off to catch up with them, but what’s to stop Sergeant Moses from calling in for confirmation.”
Nash had a ready answer. “We pull in very late… say around three A.M. Do you think he’d call Haskins that late?”
Little Billie didn’t have to think about his reply. “Naw, no way, unless he wanted to get his ass chewed out by the major.”
Maria spoke again. “So, Torrie and I get to wait at the overpass while you three somehow take over the prison vans, arm the women inside them, and then drive past their perimeter guards. All this without alerting anyone and getting yourselves killed. Jesus, Nash, you’re as dumb as the big oaf sitting across from you.”
Nash shrugged. That’s all I have. There is no easy way to do this, but I’ll keep thinking just in case I can come up with something better.”
Maria chuckled and said, “No, your plan is so harebrained it just might work. Like you said, there is no easy way to get your baby back. I say go for it. You’ll have one thing on your side to counter any trouble that pops up.”
“What’s that,” Betty interjected.
“Little Billie will be with you. He’s not a deep thinker, but pushed, he is a good man to have with you.”
Little Billie, taking her statement as a compliment, smiled at her and said, “You better believe it,” then reached to slap Betty’s shoulder in a good natured manner, “See, Maria wants you to get your boy back as much as I do.”
*******
Little Billie left soon after. He had a Harley of his own inside the attached garage. Nash, Betty and Maria stood on the front stoop until the roar of his cycle faded away.
Nash and Betty were exhausted from the stress and exertion of the previous night. Maria offered them her and Billie’s bed. They chose to sleep on the porch, but gladly accepted a blanket and pillows.
Three hours passed before Maria announced she could hear a vehicle approaching. She called loudly for her daughter, Torrie. She came from a bedroom and joined them on the porch.
This was the first time either Nash or Betty saw Torrie close up. She proved Billie’s claim. Raven hair like her stepmother, the similarity ended there. Torrie was elfishly slender. Her oval face and wide set eyes promised beauty that would carry over into adulthood.
Grabbing her rifle from beside the front door, Maria said, “Come on, Grab your stuff, we need to hide. Throw your bedding on the couch.”
Maria and Torrie ran into the house. Nash and Betty grabbed their rifles and go bags, scooped up the blanket and pillows, dashed through the house and out the back door. They soon closed the short lead the two had.
Maria led the way to a screening web of kudzu vines that allowed them to view the house. The sound of the engine grew louder. Moments later a large extended-cab pickup truck turned into the driveway. They breathed a sigh of relief when Little Billie stepped from it.
As they returned to the house, Little Billie opened the back door and motioned for them to hurry.
Without preamble, he said, “Maria, we need to hurry. Cook some food we can eat as we ride. Betty, would you help her get everything ready?” Taking Betty’s acceptance for granted, he turned to Nash. “Come with me to the truck.” Leading the way to the door, he turned to call over his shoulder, “The convoy to San Antonio is pulling out at ten this evening. The quartermaster at the base said a shortage of food supplies is the reason for the change in scheduling; not enough on hand to feed so many captives”
At the truck, Little Billie turned to Nash. “Dan Roberts, the quartermaster, is a friend of mine. I managed to get camo for all of us. Even though I’m tight with him, there’s no way he’d let me have explosives without authorization. I hung around shooting the bull until he had to tend to another soldier’s needs. I grabbed a thirty-two count crate of C-4 and ten detonators.”
“Are the detonators wireless?’ Nash asked.
Little Billy opened the tailgate of the truck. “Naw, they’ll have to be hardwired, but I grabbed a roll of commo wire. At the motor pool I managed to
sneak off with an extra battery when I picked up the truck.” He pointed to a cardboard box. “Take the clothing inside. I’m going to prep a few blocks of the C-4.”
Nash dragged the box onto the tailgate. “No problem getting the truck?”
“Naw, but I’m gonna miss my Harley. I told Colonel Haskins I was coming back to work and, because Maria took off, I decided to move back on base and needed it to bring my stuff. When we leave here, we’ll have to drive past the overpass where they attacked your convoy. You and your woman need to change into the camo’s until we pass by that point. Three miles farther on there’s another spotter position for people approaching the trap from the west.”
Nash carried the box of clothing into the house. Maria and Betty were in the kitchen preparing food for the trip. Maria turned to speak as he set the box on the table. Pointing to a stack of canned goods on the end of the counter, she said, “Empty the box and fill it with the cans to take with us. After we rescue your boy we won’t be coming back here.”
Nash did as she requested and then asked, “Is there a room where I can change. My clothing is wet and I’m chilled to the bone.”
Betty said, “I hope he brought clothing for me. I’m not as wet, but I am cold.”
Nash checked the items. “All size medium.” Holding first a camo shirt and then pants against his body, he said, “They’ll fit me, but you’ll find them loose.
Betty said, “Loose is okay, I just want out of these damp clothes. We’ll need to let our clothing dry so we can change back into them.”
Maria said, “Use the restroom down the hall. Hang your wet clothing on the shower curtain rod. Don’t worry about appearing odd wearing the shoes you have. Boots are in short supply. Most of the unit wears sneakers or running shoes, mainly whatever they scavenge that fits… Plenty of uniforms though. I never thought to wonder how there could be so many sets of camo and such a dearth of footwear.”
Nash wasted no time shucking from his wet clothing and donning the camo fatigues. While in the bathroom, he heard Little Billie speaking, but not well enough to understand what he said.
Returning to the kitchen he smelled the aroma of fresh brewed coffee overlying the odor of the food Maria and Betty were preparing. Little Billie was at the table with a steaming cup. Across from him sat another cup.
Billie motioned to it. “Your woman said you take your coffee black.”
“My wife,” Nash corrected as he took a chair.
Betty smiled at him as she gathered her camo-wear from the table. “Yep, I’m Missus Vaughn.” Standing, she said, “Don’t discuss anything important while I’m changing.”
Maria came to the table and began distributing plates. “Don’t worry. They’ll be too busy stuffing their faces to do any talking.”
Maria was correct; there wasn’t much talk once the meal hit the table. The fried ham, steamed vegetables and collard greens, all from cans, were anything but plain. She’d managed her spices to produce a palate-pleasing miracle.
Billie was the first to finish eating. He let loose a mighty belch, and then dodging the hand Maria swung at his head, said, “That was tummy perfect, but coffee does a number on me. I’m going out to drain my lizard. We can talk when I come back.”
After Little Billie went out, Betty asked, “Why does he have to drain a lizard?”
Maria laughed, “Honey, that’s what men say when they need to pee. I’m sure Nash has to drain his lizard ever so often. Isn’t that right?”
Nash shook his head, “I’ve never heard that expression either.”
Maria laughed again, “You must be city folk. How’d you two manage to live this long since the plaque?”
“It hasn’t been easy,” Betty, answered, with no trace of a smile to compliment Maria’s laugh. We’ve had some bad, tough, times.”
Maria’s smile faded, changed to sad. “We all have, but we did survive the plague. Ran and hid, killed and ran, did whatever needed doing to avoid the infected. Now we’ll survive the anarchy that rages. We’ll run and hide, lurk and kill, do whatever it takes to carve out a space free of the evil that pervades.”
In the silence that followed her words, Nash in a soft voice said, “Amen to that.”
Little Billie came from taking care of business and retook his chair. “Okay, here’s where we’re at. I’ve rethought part of the plan. If we leave ASAP, we have enough time. Instead of taking I-40 and passing by the barricade, we can use surface roads to the damaged overpass. After we place the charges, we’ll wait until the convoy passes and then Nash and Betty and me will tail the convoy until they make camp. I think two AM will be late enough for us to roll in.”
Nash disagreed. “If they roll out at ten this evening, two AM will only give them four hours driving time. Do you think they’ll stop so soon after leaving? Besides, at night they’ll drive slower than normal. Still, Four hours could put them short of the damaged bridge. Jeez, this change complicates things. If they wait until say… er, six AM or later to make camp to rest, I’m pretty sure Sergeant Moses won’t hesitate to call Colonel Haskins for confirmation.”
Little Billie said, “Maybe we need to scrap this plan and think of some other way to get your kid.”
Betty tapped the table to get attention. “Okay, you two can stop blithering. It wasn’t much of a plan anyway. Here’s the thing. There is no way in hell we can enter the main camp near Jackson and rescue Jess. Our best bet is to grab him from the convoy. To do that, we need to be on the road. Let’s get that part done. Leave here, go to the damaged bridge, set the explosives and wait for the convoy. After it passes, if the variables don’t work to our benefit, we can go back to the drawing board. I say, let’s pack up and roll.”
Billie stood a bit straighter. “You’re right. We’ll play it as it falls. Nash, come to the garage. We’ll need camping gear and other supplies. Maria, you and Torrie load everything you think we’ll need because we won’t be coming back.”
Betty stood and said to Maria, “I’ll help. You pack and I’ll carry.”
********
Betty and Nash rode in the cramped space behind the front seats. Navigating the county roads to bypass the barricade on Interstate-40 almost proved an exercise in futility. Two years without maintenance took their toll. Mother Nature was working to reclaim the land humankind stole from her. Weeds and small trees, mostly sweet gum saplings took advantage of every crack and pothole in the crumbling pavement. Several times, downed trees from past storms and sections of washed out road caused them to backtrack and search for alternate routes.
Finally, late afternoon, regaining Interstate-40, Little Billie stopped at the top of the entrance ramp and said, “Everybody out to stretch. They sure didn’t plan for a man my size to fit these seats.”
Nash, struggling to get his cramped legs free from the rear compartment, couldn’t help but think, “No seat was designed for a man Billie’s size.”
Billie had to help Maria from the truck. Her legs were numb from Torrie sitting in her lap.
After walking and stretching, Billie called for them to gather at the front of the truck.
“I’ve been thinking. The convoy never goes through Memphis; Too dangerous, too many gangs and rogues. Hell, sometimes hoodlums toss concrete blocks off the bridges to smash windshields just for the fun of it. Once, they even threw the body of a woman.”
Maria chuckled, “Yeah that was pure karma; one of the few times Colonel Haskins made the trip, and there he is with a dead woman sitting in his lap. The shattered windshield cut his face some; too bad a piece of it didn’t slice his throat.”
Worried about how exposed they were, Nash spoke, urged Billie to get back on track. “You said you were thinking. What’d you come up with?”
“The damaged overpass is at the Leighton exit, twenty miles or so west of Jackson. Twenty-five miles past Leighton, the convoy will take exit 42 and use a mess of surface roads to get around Memphis. I figure Sergeant Moses won’t care to venture those roads at night and wil
l stop the convoy there. That’s what I’d do.”
Betty asked, “How far is it to the damaged overpass?”
Billie answered, “Well, we managed to bypass Jackson. I’d say another ten miles should put us there.”
Echoing Nash’s unvoiced concern, Betty said, “I don’t like standing around here at the top of this ramp. If everyone’s ready, let’s get moving. Nash, it’ll be chilly, but the clouds are thinning. How about you and I ride shotgun in the rear bed?”
“Sounds good.”
While navigating the rural side roads, they’d not encountered other vehicles on the road, but occasionally saw people in their farmyards or working in fields, always in groups. In every instance, members of the group, armed with weapons stood guard while the others worked.
Interstate 40 was a different horse altogether. Because of previous travelers clearing lanes, removing windblown debris and moving dead vehicles, there was always at least one clear lane. Four times, they encountered other vehicles, overtaking and passing three pickup trucks and a tractor. The pickups bristled with men and women holding weapons ready to use. The tractor pulled onto the shoulder for them to pass. The farmer and a young boy, both holding shotguns, kept their eyes on Nash and Betty in the rear of the truck, suspicious, ready to shoot if either of them made a threatening move.
Just before the exit for Leighton, a pickup passed them, approaching fast, horn honking and engine revving. Little Billie moved to the shoulder to give them plenty of room. The truck roared by, the rear bed filled with drunken men shouting profanities at them.
Nash saw Betty shift the safety on her rifle and followed suit. He knew if the men onboard the truck made the slightest hostile move she’d rip them to shreds. They didn’t, and thus earned the privilege of continuing their revelry.
The overpass for the Leighton exit was a dual bridge, one for east, and another for westbound traffic on highway seventy. Little Billie stopped under the eastbound overpass. Standing in the rear of the truck, Nash could see the extensive damage done to the westbound bridge by the burning tanker truck. A mostly intact section came down, completely blocking the eastbound lanes of the I-40.
Working With Cedar: A Post Apocalyptic Tale Page 11
