Z-Railed

by Holcomb, Joshua

  “Daddy! You’re home!” eight year old Emily giggled. She stumbled into her father’s loving arms, still clutching her favorite doll.

  “How’s my princess doing today?” Steven asked, pecking her on the cheek.

  Emily smiled. “Good, Daddy.” She looked around and asked, “Where’s mommy?”

  “I’m sorry honey, she had to stay late at the store to finish some work. Has Maria been taking good care of you?”

  “Yes! She taught me how to count to ten in Spanish! And she made me some good lunch!”

  “It wasn’t that great,” Maria, the lovely woman Steven had hired to watch Emily four days a week, chuckled. “But I’m glad you liked it. Now, go take your bath Miss Emily. You know it’s almost bed time.” As Emily scurried off to the bathroom Maria turned to Steven. “Mr. Grover, did you have pleasant day?”

  “Other than some minors trying to suede me into giving them behind the counter meds, it was pretty good.” He loosened his tie and undid the top button. “Was Emily a handful today?”

  “Not at all Mr. Grover. She was an angel like always.”

  “Daddy!” Emily’s voice broke up the conversation. “Daddy, can you come help me with the drain!”

  Steven smiled. “I love that girl. She’s just like her mother.”

  The truck’s front right tire dipped low into a pothole and caused Steven to suddenly jolt back to reality. As he guided the vehicle around the next corner he was relieved to see a sign for Route 1053. He knew that connected with Hwy 27.

  “Back in the game!” he laughed, imitating a comical skit he had once viewed on the internet.

  As he braked to a stop at the intersection Steven glanced in his rearview mirror and saw a black band stretching to the south. A large storm was sweeping across the Bluegrass Plateau, and he knew from experience how nasty they could become in a matter of minutes.

  Gunning the accelerator, Steven turned right and hoped he could get back on track before the storm delayed his progress even more.

  ***

  Franklin didn't sleep that night. He paced back and forth, frequently checking on the peacefully dozing Seth. "What am I going to tell him?" Franklin wondered fitfully. At sunrise, he went outside to gather a team to go after Steven. He was still pacing when the others came outside.

  "I have decided to go after Steven and get my wife back!" Franklin bellowed. "No one has to come with--don't feel obligated, but I'd like at least two others to help me. Think on that a second."

  "In the meantime, I put Jacob in charge in my absence. I trust his judgment. Please take care of Seth and put these walls back up--Maybe make them less flammable." Jacob nodded at Franklin as they made eye contact.

  Jesse stepped out and raised his voice, "I'd like to go with, Franklin."

  "You what?!" Franklin growled. "You little piece of..." He didn't finish as he swung an open hand clubbing Jesse alongside of his freshly stitched head and knocking him to the ground. "This is your fault, you scum!"

  Jesse stood back up and looked pleadingly at Franklin. "I need to go," he said softly.

  Franklin stepped right up to Jesse's face and shouted directly into it. "I should drop you again and stomp you into the ground! Don't insult me with this idea of you coming with!"

  "Katelyn's with Jackie," he said simply, taking a step back, wiping the spittle from his face. "I don't disagree with you...I just want to get her back."

  The others watched closely, not taking action, despite Franklin’s unfair accusation. No one really ever challenged his decisions, except for Jackie, but she was no longer here.

  Franklin's eyes narrowed. "Pack your things; you can come. I don't have time for this crap. Need one more! Preferably single!" He spun around and stomped inside to see Seth before he left.

  Seth was just waking up as Franklin entered the room. "Daddy! Can we have pancakes and bacon this morning?"

  Franklin gave a thin smile, "Buddy, your mom and I have to leave for a little bit...kind of like a vacation. We'll be back soon."

  "Daddy! No!" Seth jumped into Franklin's arms and hugged him tightly. "You have to stay here with me and teach me how to play football like you promised!"

  "I will, buddy, but it'll be when I get back. You be good while I'm gone, ok?" Franklin was fighting back tears.

  "Ok, daddy, but you have to bring me a present or no deal!"

  Franklin chuckled slightly in spite of his sadness. "It's a deal, little guy. Now you be good and practice throwing your football."

  He gave him a kiss and headed back downstairs. "Do we have a third? All ready to go?"

  Jesse stepped out, holding his gear, along with seventeen year old Tyler.

  "Are you sure you want to go, Tyler?" Franklin inquired. Tyler had lost his entire family--two younger sisters, his parents, and grandparents--all in one night. A cross country runner in high school, he had survived for weeks simply by outrunning the rotters.

  "Yes, I want to go," Tyler said confidently. "I don't have as much to lose as some of these other guys, and I get bored around here anyway." He grinned in his attempt at humor. Franklin noticed, but was too down to smile back.

  Franklin looked at the map again. "The plan is simple. We follow this map, staying very alert for signs of Steven, Katelyn, and Jackie. We have our weapons, but let's only use them if necessary--we don't want to hit our own. Let's get some fuel at the gas station up by Elm Avenue first, and we'll head up from there."

  The two men nodded in agreement and put their gear in the back of the pickup truck.

  "Oh, and boys, one last thing," Franklin said. "Take Steven alive. I have plans for him."

  XI

  Kentucky Countryside

  The chase to bring back Jackie and Katelyn had begun. Franklin drove, while Tyler navigated. Jesse sat in the bed with a semi-automatic rifle, keeping an eye out behind. Leaves crunched under the tires and blew in spiraling patterns as they sped down the road. It was a cool brisk fall day, but beginning to cloud over. "I should be raking leaves in my backyard with my family..." Franklin mumbled.

  As they pulled into the country store and gas station, Jesse jumped out and quickly did a sweep of the area. Once he was done, Franklin and Tyler jumped out.

  "Tyler, why don't you start siphoning what we need?" Franklin ordered. "Jesse and I will check the store again."

  Tyler furrowed his brow. "Why? We cleared that place a month ago...nothing useful left!"

  "Just siphon!" Franklin tossed over his shoulder. "Come on, Jesse."

  They stepped through the front door and did a quick search. "Hey, Jesse... about earlier..." Franklin stopped, waiting for Jesse's acknowledgement.

  "Don't worry about it, Franklin... I should have done more."

  "Well, that's just it, Jesse... It wasn't your fault, or my fault, or anyone's fault! I apologize. Are we cool? I mean, I'm not going to start giving you kisses anytime soon, but no hard feelings."

  "Yeah, we're cool, man... Let's just get this to work," Jesse said, staring down at his feet.

  "All right, let's go back to the truck."

  Franklin and Jesse headed back out to the truck and took over siphoning from Tyler, who headed over to the side of the building to take a leak. "Hey, what's that?" he yelled mid-stream.

  Jesse and Franklin pulled out their pistols as they ran over to Tyler. He was zipping up and pointing down with his right hand to a newspaper.

  "It's a newspaper, doofus," Franklin said, holstering his pistol. "People used to read them back in the day before the internet and smart phones and television. Come on, let's get going."

  "Oh, so they printed newspapers ahead of time with dates only a couple months ago?" Tyler said a little sarcastically.

  "What?!" Franklin exclaimed. He picked up the paper. It was on one sheet and most of the ink had washed out, but the date was still visible. "That's after all this started... What the heck?"

  "Doofus, eh?" Tyler grinned.

  "Shut up..." Franklin said, "We don't have time for this. Moun
t up."

  As they got in the truck, a few drops of water began connecting with the windshield. "Looks like rain, Jesse," Franklin observed. "Hunker down in the back seat, so you don't get wet."

  "This route on this map doesn't take the interstate. It's a different route than I'd take," Tyler pointed out. "It's all back roads."

  "We follow that one," Franklin said adamantly, pointing at the map.

  ***

  Katelyn’s eyes slowly opened as she regained consciousness and took in her surroundings. She sensed a vibration underneath and the rumbling sound of exhaust. A sharp breeze rushed overhead and the occasional bump lifted her body an inch into the air.

  As her senses returned, a dull ache suddenly rushed through her body like a tsunami. She hastily sat up and screamed with agony. As she realized her position in a truck bed, a pounding headache washed over her and she fell backwards in a whimpering fit.

  Katelyn lay still and struggled to think clearly. It was at that moment she realized her hands were handcuffed behind her back, thick baling twine bound her legs, and a thin woolen blanket covered her. She broke into a panic fit, squirming and struggling to break free. As she did the blanket she was wrapped in came free. The wind caught it like a kite, ripping it from her slender body and tossed it high into the air.

  At that instant Katelyn became aware of her complete lack of clothing. All at once memories of the previous night returned. Dinner. Having drinks. Falling into bed with…

  “Jesse!” she cried out. “Jesse!”

  She frantically looked around and saw another body move next to her.

  “Katelyn, is that you?” a female voice asked.

  “Jackie?” Katelyn scooted her body closer, wincing as the rough bed liner scraped her bare skin.

  Jackie stirred, and rolled over, facing Katelyn. “Are you okay?”

  Katelyn grimaced, and turned away momentarily as nausea overcame her. She vomited heavily into the bed before turning back to Jackie. With a frightened look etched into her face she asked, “Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

  “I don’t. Last I remember I was getting ready to go upstairs to bed with Franklin. Somebody grabbed me from behind, and then I woke up here.” Jackie eyed Katelyn suspiciously. “I smell booze in your vomit. What in the world did you get us into?”

  “After dinner Jesse and I got some bourbon and…” Katelyn blushed and looked away from Jackie’s eyes. “We had sex in the barn. Next thing I know I have a horrible hangover in the back of a truck. My boyfriend is gone, I have no clothes, and I’m off to God-knows-where.” She began sobbing.

  Jackie did her best to comfort Katelyn, but it was next to impossible being tied up.

  “Do you even know who kidnapped us?” Katelyn whimpered.

  “No, the back window is tinted. I can’t see in. But, it looks kind of like Steven’s truck.”

  Their conversation ceased as the truck rolled to a stop. Thunder rumbled in the distance and the wind began to pick up, whipping the tops of trees around like marionette puppets.

  “Look at that!” Jackie whispered, jutting her chin to an old derelict road sign. “It says Highway 27, and I think,” Jackie continued as the truck turned left, “that we are heading north!”

  ***

  A sudden gust of wind startled Steven as he felt it push the truck sideways on the narrow road. He gripped the steering wheel closer and peered intently at the sky in front of him.

  Conditions were worsening by the minute. Soon a fierce barrage of rain pelted the wind shield, forcing Steven to slow down even more. As the storm grew into a great crescendo, he cursed his luck and the events that got him into this situation.

  “This should get you by!”

  The loud voice startled Steven Grover and refocused his attention. As he attempted to scurry through the driver’s door the man grabbed him by the shirt collar and glared with menacing eyes.

  Spitting a disgusting stream of chewing tobacco out the corner of his mouth he threatened, “I don’t want to see you again until you bring us something useful! Got it?”

  Steven nodded vigorously.

  “Now get outa here, maggot!” The man shoved Steven into the cab and threw the empty gas can against the wall. He stepped through a fortified door of an abandoned warehouse, leaving Steven surrounded by the eerie silence of the dead city of Lexington.

  Steven, struggling to regain his composure, hung his head for several minutes before the hungry cry of a feeder caused him to start the engine and slam the door shut. He left the warehouse in a cloud of white smoke. The powerful V-8 engine underneath his truck’s hood propelled him down the street towards an uncertain future.

  As Steven maneuvered through the city streets he checked his watch. He had about three hours of daylight left. More than enough time he thought.

  Half an hour later, the pickup stopped alongside the curb, and Steven stepped out. The trashed remains of his front lawn greeted him with an unnerving feeling. One week of all hell breaking loose had reduced everything to a total chaotic mess.

  He walked briskly inside and upstairs to his bedroom. Grabbing a duffle bag from the closet he hastily threw together a few articles of clothing, toiletries, and a 9mm handgun that he had never fired.

  Steven grabbed two boxes of ammunition on his way back downstairs, pausing only to gaze longingly at his eight year old daughter’s room. The pink curtains, bed spread, and dolls tugged at his heart. He stumbled downstairs and grabbed what snack food was left in the already raided pantry.

  Steven laid the supplies in the bed of his pickup and then quickly drove three blocks down to a quaint old town store, Grover’s Food & Drug. He and his wife had worked together running the store, with Steven managing the pharmaceutical section of the business.

  As he inserted his key into the lock, Steven muttered with disgust at the multiple broken windows. The shattered panes littered the inside of his once clean and tidy store. Instead, bare shelves and scattered merchandise greeted him.

  “Damn looters,” he cursed.

  A sudden flash of lightning startled Steven as he struggled to maintain any visual reference to the edge of the road. Not a second later the deafening crack of thunder directly overhead caused him to let go of the steering wheel and cover his ears.

  “Good grief!” he cried, clutching his ears in pain. In a panic his foot depressed the brake pedal to dangerous levels, causing the truck to enter a hydroplane. It glided, effortlessly, across the flooded pavement, leaving Steven with absolutely no control.

  A corner approached and Steven, in a futile attempt to save his vehicle, spun the wheel frantically. Rather than improve his situation the truck fishtailed around the corner and was caught in the turmoil of raging floodwaters rushing down a gulley. The culvert underneath the road was never designed to handle this much water.

  The swirling torrent pushed the truck with such ease. All Steven could do was brace for the inevitable impact as he sailed across the road. The truck was slammed into a thick rocky berm and became wedged as three feet of flood water churned around his vehicle. The muddy slurry soon overwhelmed his engine causing it to sputter and die.

  “Son of a…” a large tree branch cut him off as it plowed into the side of the truck. Seeing the debris starting to pile against the vehicle, Steven began to grasp the seriousness of his situation.

  He quickly cranked the driver’s side window down and slithered out, grasping the top of the cab. In one smooth motion he propelled himself into the bed of the truck and withdrew a knife from his belt.

  “I’m going to cut your legs free and you two jump onto the bank!”

  “Steven, you piece of crap!” Jackie screamed, her eyes burning with fury that even the storm couldn’t douse.

  “Shut up and just do it!” Steven returned, leveling his 9mm at the girls. “Now! Falmouth is only another mile from here. We can make it into town and find some shelter!” He turned to Katelyn. “The sooner you leave this truck the sooner you can get some warm clo
thes.”

  ***

  Rain began to fall harder and harder as they drove over winding roads in the Kentucky hilly countryside.

  "Man, it's really coming down out here," Jesse said, trying to look up at the clouds through the truck's back window.

  Thunder crashed as wind began picking up, driving sheets of water against the truck. Visibility was poor. Franklin slowed down as they followed a bend in the road. "Oh, great," he grumbled, stopping the truck.

  Before them lay a river of water rushing across the road. "I think there's a bridge here," Tyler wondered, looking more closely at the map.

  "Doesn't matter if there's a bridge there," Franklin said. "Water's too high anyway. Looks like we're in a couple inches of water as it is."

  They sat there in the truck for the next five minutes, silently contemplating their situation. Franklin shut off the truck. "Maybe we can camp here and see if the water goes down by morning. Let's go check out that house up the hill a bit," pointing in the direction of a small white trailer a hundred yards up the hill.

  Climbing out of the truck, they stepped foot in almost four inches of water. They grabbed their go-bags and weapons out of the truck and headed up the hill. Soon they were soaked, but they made it to the house quickly. Jesse kicked open the front door and leveled his weapon, but no one had been in that trailer for years. Water poured in through gaping holes in the ceiling and out through even bigger holes in the floor. "What a dump," he grumbled, exiting the trailer.

  "Might as well sleep in the truck," Franklin yelled above the sound of the storm, beckoning them to follow him as he returned down the hill. The rain fell even harder, the muddy ground making progress slow.

  "No, no, no!!!" Franklin shouted. Just as they neared the bottom of the hill, water from the swollen creek pushed the truck sideways. Franklin tried to run towards the truck, but he slipped in the mud and fell flat on his back. Tyler got closer, but the water was too deep and he had to retreat. They stared helplessly as the truck was inched closer and closer to the side of the road by the muddy, angry waters. Soon, it dropped over the edge of the asphalt and was turned over and over downstream.