Z-Railed

by Holcomb, Joshua

  Jackie just stared at the ground. The usual fiery resentment that typically burned in Jackie’s eyes was absent. After her husband’s surprise attack and failed rescue in Cincinnati Jackie wasn’t the same woman as before. She and Katelyn had tried to escape the train terminal but were soon apprehended once the firefight was over. They had been tossed into a rail car with twenty-one other people and endured a stifling journey down to Louisville. She wanted more than anything to fight back against her captors, but she realized it was no use, instead clinging to the hope that Franklin might be able to find her.

  “I will be straight with you two,” Victor continued, “since I hope you will prove to be valuable. We will provide you with food, shelter, and protection from the outside world. In return, you will provide health services and research benefits to our group. Consider yourselves fortunate not to be joining dear Bethany,” he pointed in the direction of the guard returning with Bethany. Her disheveled hair and clothes highlighted a red, tear stained face.

  Katelyn was the first to speak. “And what if we don’t? We have family and loved ones looking for us. They were surviving fine until Steven screwed things up.”

  “Whether you realize it or not we are rebuilding humanity. Our ways might be slightly, uh, unconventional, but we have no room for unproductive individuals. Should you chose to be uncooperative we will have no choice but to punish you. And nobody wants that, do they, girls?”

  Katelyn remained silent, her imagination swarming with possibilities as to what punishment might be received provided she resisted.

  “Now,” Victor said, as a middle aged woman approached. “Samantha here is going to take you to our clinic and give you ladies a full check-up, and then show you the facilities and your accommodations. Tomorrow morning you will start in your new positions.”

  * * *

  As the storm dissipated, its remaining fury continuing on to the east, bright shafts of sunlight began to filter back down to the lush Kentucky landscape. The blinding rays burned fiercely, landing squarely on Jesse’s closed eyes. The sudden intensity caused him to stir, and cry out in pain.

  Jesse tried to shield his eyes, but as he came to he realized his arms were bound to a chair he was placed upright in. Thick leather straps also kept his legs together.

  “Nice of you to join me,” a female voice said.

  Jesse squinted against the bright light and made out a figure standing behind a large oak desk.

  She reached over and shut the blinds, and Jesse was able to discern the mysterious woman. She stood six feet tall, and long brown hair cascaded down past her shoulders. Her reflective turquoise eyes complimented her slender figure as she posed in front of Jesse. He guessed she was in her late twenties. A thick Australian accent permeated the room as she began to speak.

  “I hope my men weren’t too rough with you. Sometimes they are brasher than they need be.”

  “Where am I?” Jesse asked.

  The woman continued, ignoring Jesse. “I heard you put up quite a fight in Cincinnati. Tell me, were you military?”

  Jesse said nothing.

  “Will you at least tell me your name?”

  “Jesse.”

  The woman smiled. “Thank you, Jesse. Now we are getting somewhere.” She strode over to him and stood in front and center, her charming fragrance overpowering Jesse’s senses. “My name is Adelaide. Adelaide Webster.”

  “Why am I tied up?” Jesse pressed.

  “A necessary precaution I instructed my men to carry out. Would you like to be untied?”

  Jesse nodded, hesitantly.

  Adelaide sensed the perplexity etched into Jesse’s face, so she spoke softly. “I want you to trust me, Jesse.” She bent over and undid all the straps, allowing Jesse to spread out across the wooden chair. “I would like to think of this as the beginning of a wonderful friendship.”

  Jesse wanted to jump up and bolt for the door but common sense prevailed and he remained seated.

  Adelaide placed a hand on Jesse’s shoulder. “It’s just you and me,” she said. “You can trust me. I will be honest with you, if you will be honest with me. Can you do that?”

  Jesse just stared, as he struggled to find Adelaide’s angle.

  “I will take that as a yes.” Adelaide stood back and returned to her desk. “You see, Jesse, we live in a messed up world right now. Our human race is on the brink of extinction and has anybody stepped up to find a solution? Hardly! The once great United States has been reduced to squabbling bands of survivors struggling to survive in an ever increasingly hostile land.” She paused for effect, as if delivering a patriotic speech at a presidential campaign rally. “That is where I come in. Somebody had to step forward and give direction and structure to those survivors. Somebody with resources needed to step in to give mankind a second chance.”

  “Fine job you’ve been doing,” Jesse growled, “by kidnapping innocent people. I can only assume you were behind the scheme that dirt bag Steven carried out.”

  Adelaide smiled. “Jesse, you are so young and naive. Do you really believe that the people still alive are innocent? We all have perpetually held humanity to an impossible standard of morality and religious bondage, on some sort of level. Can any religion make sense of this apocalypse that has befallen our world? It is asinine to believe so! This is my, rather, this is our opportunity to restart civilization free of those chains. Every individual brought into my sphere of domain has a chance to build a new life.”

  “I’ll humor you for a minute, and assume you’re not full of crap,” Jesse scoffed. “Why am I even here? Why not throw me in with the rest of your slave laborers so I can spend the rest of my life building your illusions of grandeur?”

  “My men admired your determination and spirit to fight. They thought you might be excellent soldier material.” Adelaide lowered her voice and approached Jesse again. “But when you were brought in, I watched you, Jesse. I sense something special about you. I believe you will do more than be a fine soldier. I believe you can have an influential role in our rebuilding of civilization! I am offering you a position in our management training program!”

  “You are an excellent speaker, I’ll give you that,” Jesse applauded. “But it’s going to take more than some fancy words to sway me. Now if you’re done, I’d like to see my girlfriend. I’m sure you know her, right?” Sarcasm dripped from his voice like honey from a honeycomb. “The girl I assume you kidnapped for your twisted purposes.”

  Adelaide chuckled. “No one is excited about it at first, but I’m sure you’ll change your mind soon enough. Besides, did I mention that your acceptance of the position isn’t voluntary?” Her eyes narrowed and lips tightened. “The last candidate I offered the job decided to turn it down and I’m sure you didn’t see him in the hallway.”

  She paused and walked over to the door. “Come with me, Jesse. I have much to show you over the next few days.”

  XV

  The Company’s Headquarters

  The following morning Jackie and Katelyn were subjected to a rigorous interview in order to determine their exact skill sets and talents. When their high value to the organization was validated they underwent extensive physical examinations as well. A clean bill of health was a must for these new additions. Then, based on the final conclusions from the interviews, Jackie was assigned to the clinic as a nurse while Katelyn was given more skilled work in the laboratories.

  In their first week, the two women were mutually depressed. The despair from the sudden, and failed, rescue attempt in Cincinnati still weighed heavily on their minds. However, the act of being tasked with duties they were passionate about slowly began to improve their optimism. Realizing they had things well gave them hope to work diligently and make the best out of their situation. Jackie still clung to the hope that Franklin would somehow find her.

  Katelyn had always been one to enjoy lab work. Ever since she was a little girl, she had dreamed of being a scientist and discovering the cure for cancer or develo
ping the replacement for fossil fuel energy. As her second Monday began she cleaned a Petri dish in preparation for another tissue sample. She had arrived at the lab before the other members of the team and set up her work station for the day.

  The door to the lab suddenly swung open with a clang and another assistant named Rob walked in. "Morning, Katelyn," he said.

  Without paying attention too much to him, Katelyn politely replied and went back to setting up her station. Like her, he was kidnapped and forced into this position. His outlook was much more positive, however. He was so passionate about lab work and making new discoveries that he didn’t care what environment he was in. The laboratory got him out of bed every morning. In fact, Katelyn beating him to work today was a small miracle in itself.

  "What do you have for breakfast there, Rob?" She had downed a cold biscuit with butter earlier, and couldn’t help but notice Rob preparing to open a small paper bag. Surely it could be more succulent than her sawdust-like delicacy.

  "Nothing much," he replied. "Just a ten month old toaster pastry that someone found the other day on a supply run."

  Katelyn laughed, "Be careful that you don't get sick."

  Rob chuckled, "What I could really go for is a waffle drenched with some maple syrup! All that sticky sweet goodness running everywhere would make my taste buds have a field day!"

  Katelyn's smile slowly faded as the image of a syrup soaked waffle entered her head. Her eyes watered as her stomach rejected the idea of a waffle. What the...? She exclaimed to herself, I like waffles! She placed her hand over her gut as the feeling got worse.

  Rob noticed the change in her expression, but figured she just hated waffles. He shrugged and turned back to his toaster pastry. He opened the bag and sniffed the contents. "Oh this smells awful!" He pretended to gag and walked over to Katelyn. "Here, smell this!" He shoved the open bag under her nose and waited for her response.

  Katelyn's nostrils involuntarily took in the stale, rancid scent of a toaster pastry ten months past the expiration date. Her vision blurred as full blown tears came to her eyes and her stomach turned like a Ferris wheel. She gagged suddenly, and pushed Rob away. Leaning over her work station with both hands firmly placed at the edge of the table, she took a deep breath and tried to calm herself down.

  Rob leaned over and asked, "Are you ok?"

  Katelyn shook her head slowly.

  Rob continued, "Would you like something to drink? A cold glass of powdered milk?”

  The image of powdered milk penetrated Katelyn's consciousness before she could block it. The thought further agitated the turmoil in her stomach and no longer could she contain it. She gripped the table and vomited.

  Rob jumped back and shouted, "Oh gross!” He eyed the work station and continued, “and you ruined your samples!"

  Katelyn staggered backwards and tried to look at Rob. Instead, she heaved again. She doubled over and barfed on Rob's shoes. The milky substance penetrated the gap between shoe and sock.

  "I'm sorry," she murmured as she finally managed to look up at him. As she did her vision blurred. She staggered backwards and fainted before she hit the floor.

  * * *

  Katelyn's eyes slowly opened and adjusted to her surroundings. She was lying on her back, in a white room, on a small bed. She gently sat herself upright and slowly looked around. Noticing some medical equipment, she inferred that she was in the clinic.

  As she slid to the edge of the bed she glanced around the room and mumbled, “Where are my shoes at?”

  Jackie suddenly walked in, wearing light blue scrubs, startling Katelyn. "Easy there, girl," she said authoritatively. "How are you feeling?"

  "I feel fine now," Katelyn responded. "I’m really not sure what happened to me."

  "Honestly, we don't know either. While this is a good thing, you didn’t exactly exhibit any signs we could use to determine what’s wrong.”

  Katelyn frowned.

  “I do have a hunch, though,” Jackie continued. “Remember what you told me about you and Jesse…”

  Jackie didn’t need to finish. It hit Katelyn like a ton of bricks. A wave of euphoria mixed with fear cascaded over her. She smiled, then frowned, cried tears of joy, but furrowed her brows. "What… You mean… I’m… Pregnant?"

  "Sure seems like it," Jackie said smiling. "Rob told me what happened, and he said you lost it when he started talking about food. It was same way for me when I was pregnant."

  "Yeah," Katelyn said wrinkling her nose. She then pushed the thought out of her head, and exclaimed, "I wish Jesse was here right now. I feel so vulnerable and I need him.”

  "I know, sweetie," Jackie said reassuringly. "I’m sure he and Franklin will find us soon.”

  * * *

  Cincinnati, OH

  Franklin darted between cars and through narrow alleyways, fearful the men were still on his tail. Between roaming feeders and the fear of soldiers pursuing him, it kept his nerves on edge. He continued on his flight of fear for nearly one hour, until the sun began to set. Franklin finally slowed down as he neared an imposing stone building.

  He glanced around him, and after making sure he wasn’t followed, he ducked inside. The waning twilight obscured his view in the darkened building, but after locating a storage room he barricaded himself inside. Only then did Franklin allow himself to relax. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, slowly sliding down. The rough surface of the wall tore at his clothes and skin but Franklin was too fatigued to care.

  As his body sank to the floor, he held his hands in front of him and stared at his palms. Sorrow overwhelmed him and he cried out, "What have I done? My wife is gone, I’m not protecting my son, and my anger just got a kid killed…" He fumbled in the darkness until he grabbed a lampstand with his left hand and clumsily chucked it in front of him. It fell to the floor and the light bulb shattered.

  He sank off to the side, covering his face with his hands and let out a long, tearing groan. "I'm worthless," he murmured.

  Franklin’s thoughts spiraled deeper, and his sorrow turned to self-loathing. It catapulted him into an abyss of depression. Hopelessness permeated his entire body.

  "Life is now pointless," he mumbled. "Maybe Jesse was right. There is nothing worth living for in this world." He shifted positions on the cool concrete floor and a sudden prick in his side reminded him of the revolver he carried.

  A lump began expanding in Franklin’s throat as he withdrew the weapon from his waistband. He opened the cylinder and gently spun it between his fingers. The dirty metal revealed only one round left in his possession.

  A loud sigh escaped his body as Franklin lined the remaining cartridge up with the barrel. He snapped the cylinder closed, and with shaky hands he cocked the hammer back. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth, placing the cold steel between his jaws. Franklin fought his body’s natural gag reflex as his eyes pushed out more tears.

  Franklin sat there for several minutes, willing himself to pull the trigger, before he finally yanked the weapon from his mouth and threw it across the storage room.

  “Franklin you chicken bastard just do it!” he screamed. With a cascade of emotions he began blubbering like a small child.

  After going on for several minutes Franklin finally looked up towards a small grimy window. In the faint glow of twilight he could see boxes upon boxes of museum artifacts stacked upon a crude shelf constructed from two-by-fours and plywood. As his eyes roamed the shelves higher up they finally rested upon a large bottle.

  Franklin staggered to his feet and reached for the bottle. He sneezed as the thick icing of dust momentarily assaulted his respiratory system. As he cleaned the bottle on his ragged shirt, the word WHISKEY materialized.

  “Why not,” he muttered, sliding back into his corner and popping the cork top from the bottle.

  Franklin didn’t bother to smell the potent liquid. He tipped the bottle backward and choked on the sudden strength of the firewater descending his gullet. He gasped for air in a futi
le attempt to purge the pain searing his esophagus, but he held his own.

  After recovering from the sudden intake of the 100-proof alcohol Franklin slowed to a sipping pace. It didn’t take long for his barren stomach to absorb the alcohol like a sponge. The closet around him began spinning like a top.

  Even with his blurry vision, Franklin was able to discern his discarded firearm on the floor. In a drunken slur he said, “Oh maybe I can do this now. I’ll show you that I have guts!”

  He picked up his gun and banged the barrel against his teeth. "Ouch!" he cried loudly, not aware of his now cracked tooth. “You’re one crafty bastard trying to take me out, aren’t you?” Franklin swatted the weapon like a misbehaving child. In his drunken stupor he opened the cylinder, and unknowing to him, the one remaining round fell to the concrete floor and was lost in the darkness.

  “You’re not going to win,” Franklin slurred.

  He finished fumbling with the revolver and once again placed it in his mouth. In one quick motion he found the trigger and applied tremendous pressure.

  Click.

  The double action rotated to the next position on the cylinder as Franklin tried again.

  Click. He tried again. Click.

  “I don’t understand!” Franklin screamed angrily. He took another gulp of whiskey. “You are one stupid worthless piece of American engineering!” He threw the gun at the wall.

  Franklin crawled to the door and began banging on it, screaming, “Just come and finish me off you worthless maggot bags! Just come and rip me to pieces! I don’t want to live!”

  He couldn’t quite reach the door handle from where he was sprawled, so he tried getting to his feet. Franklin was so drunk he was barely on his knees before he lost his balance. His torso fell backwards and the hard floor greeted his temple with a sickening smack. Franklin was unconscious in an instant.

  Soon, rotters were clawing at the door, attracted by Franklin's sawing logs. Franklin awoke several hours later and groaned loudly. He vaguely recalled how close he came to capping himself the night before and shook his head. "Oh my head!" he exclaimed. He shifted his body into a sitting position and kicked his wallet that had fallen out of his pocket before. A picture of Jackie and Seth flung out over the concrete floor and stopped against the foot of a long wooden crate. Franklin picked up the picture and carefully placed it back in his wallet, returning it to his back pocket. "I'm not dying today," he said determinately.