Rolling Thunder - 03

by Dirk Patton

  Shifting my grip to wrap my arms around his body I pulled again as he scrambled to get purchase on my back, then he was moving up and over me and into the car. Rachel grabbed the back of my belt and moved her weight off of me as she drug me across the platform and into the car. When I was fully back aboard I rolled over onto my back, breathing hard and just lying there. Rachel collapsed next to me, head pillowed on my shoulder and Dog came to stand over me and lick my face.

  “OK, that’s one for us to about a hundred for Dog.” I said, referring to the number of times he had saved us versus us saving him. Dog wouldn’t stop licking and I finally had to push him away. When I raised my hand to deflect another lick there was blood running down my arm from inside my glove. Pulling my arm out from under Rachel I looked at my other hand and saw more blood. Rachel saw it too and sat up quickly.

  “You must have torn them open. I’ve got my pack and the medical kit. Let’s get you taken care of.” She said, standing up and grabbing my forearm to pull me to my feet.

  “After I clear the train,” I said but she was already shaking her head.

  “There’s three perfectly good soldiers standing right there,” she gestured. “You don’t have to do everything. Does he?” She turned and looked at the Sergeant that led the squad.

  “We’ve got this, sir.” He said. I looked at him for a moment, didn’t see any of the resentment in his face that had been there when I’d told him to load my people on the train, and finally nodded my agreement. He turned and headed for the car behind us with the remainder of the squad on his heels.

  Rachel directed me to an empty seat, keeping a hand on my arm like I was either an invalid or was going to dash off the moment she let go. Unslinging my rifle I put it on the seat next to me and sat back while she gathered supplies. Conscripting one of Max’s sons to carry her pack over she opened it and rummaged through for the med kit which she opened and spread across another empty seat. Taking the flashlight off my rifle she handed it to the boy and told him to shine it on my hands while she worked.

  I had already lost the heavy fast roping gloves but was still wearing a pair made of thin leather that would help me grip my weapons even in the rain. Pulling the Velcro closures at the wrists Rachel carefully worked these off my hands. There was so much blood that the inside of the gloves had stuck to the gauze bandages and she had to pour water from her canteen into them until they released and could be removed without causing more damage. Gloves off, she cut through the bandages that were thoroughly saturated with blood, tossing them under the seat when they came free.

  I had torn out the stiches on both palms and on the back of my right hand and the wounds from being nailed to the cross by The Reverend were open, raw and steadily oozing blood. Rachel shook her head and set to work organizing the supplies she needed. While she prepared, Max rolled over next to me and locked the wheels on his chair. He took out a pack of cigarettes, shook one out and saw the look on my face. He grinned and held the pack out to me but Rachel slapped my arm when I started to raise my hand to take one. Max laughed a deep, throaty laugh, pulled one out of the pack and placed it between my lips for me. Lighting his first, he leaned forward and lit mine. The first drag was the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted. I grinned at the thought that I had a good idea how a heroin addict felt. Max mistook my grin for a thank you and nodded a welcome in response.

  27

  Maybe it was my imagination, maybe it was the cigarette, or maybe it was the distraction of talking to Max but it seemed Rachel was being more gentle than normal as she treated me. Probably the smoke. I was savoring the cigarette with my head leaned back and Max had rolled another foot forward so we could talk easily. He had beat me to the punch of asking about our story, so I told him. I made sure to include how his broadcasts had helped us, had certainly saved our lives, and left out certain parts that no one other than Rachel and I ever needed to know or think about. I skipped over a lot of details to do with my injuries that Rachel was treating and she was happy to fill in the gaps I left. She made me sound like a military genius when she filled in the details about the defense of Murfreesboro. I wanted to downplay my role, never being one to trumpet what I do, but she wouldn’t let me.

  “OK, that’s us. Now it’s your turn.” I said, grunting as Rachel started another stitch in the palm of my hand.

  Max lit another cigarette and shifted his shoulders to a more comfortable position. “I used to be in the Navy. Was a SEAL in fact. Got hurt in Afghanistan and wound up in this chair. Well, I spent a few years pissed off at the world, bored as hell. Started drinking, a lot, and was generally a nasty prick. My wife finally had enough and left one night when I had drank myself into oblivion. Took my boys with her. Even took the goddamn dog.” Dog raised his head from where he was lying by my feet, but when no one gave him any attention he relaxed with a sigh and put his chin back on my boot.

  “Probably the best thing that happened to me. Suddenly I didn’t have anyone to cook for me, wash my clothes, go shopping for me. I was on my own. It took a few months but I got off the booze, but damn the world is a boring place when you’re sober. Anyway, Ryan here started coming around to check on me. He was old enough to drive by then so my ex couldn’t stop him, and he was just starting to play around with ham radio. The next thing I knew I had a whole room devoted to it and was spending the majority of every day in there.

  “Kept me off the sauce and I got to talk to a lot of interesting people from all over the world. When this shit hit, my boys were spending the week with me while their mother was off with her new boyfriend. Anyways, I had stayed in touch with friends in the Navy and at the Pentagon, and while no one knew what was coming there had been talk for a couple of weeks that a big strike against us was in the works. I had been preparing. Weapons, food, water, medical supplies. And knowing our government the way I do, I also got my hands on an AM transmitter. Figured there might be some folks that could use some information when the shit hit the fan.

  “My house was way back in the woods, well north of Atlanta, so we were OK for a bit. As the infection started spreading and the infected started moving we had to hit the road. Had a hell of a nice one ton van with a big push bar on the front courtesy of the VA, and that got us out of Georgia and up to Nashville. Our luck had about run out when it broke down on the way to the train station and we got caught up in that crowd where you found us. I owe you more than I can tell you.”

  I waved off his thanks with the hand Rachel had finished then used it to accept the fresh cigarette Max offered. Rachel straightened her back with a groan, pausing in her work and snatched it out of my hand. Sticking it in her mouth she lit it with Max’s zippo, took a couple of inhales then passed it to me.

  “I never even tried a cigarette until I met you.” She said, looking at me with an accusatory smile. “They taste like shit but make me feel relaxed.”

  “That’s what I always said about gin!” Max answered with a laugh.

  “So how are you getting the information you’re broadcasting?” I asked him, not rising to the challenge of being blamed for Rachel smoking.

  “Satellite phone and friends in the Pentagon. Well, not in the Pentagon anymore, but they’re at the secure site where the Pentagon has moved to. They talk to me when they can and tell me what they can. It’s pretty chaotic and the White House and Congressional leaders have set up at a separate location and there’s not a lot of leadership coming down the chain of command. Not that there ever was, but it’s worse than usual.”

  Max leaned forward and continued in a low voice. “There’s some generals that are about ready to seize control and cut the President and Congress off.” This didn’t surprise me when I thought about it. Our current president was no friend of the military and the idea of a coup after the devastation of the country wasn’t nearly as far-fetched as some might think.

  “What have your friends told you about this secondary outbreak? What about the smart infected females that are popping up.” Rachel ha
d finished suturing both hands by now and was busily bandaging them up. That meant the big needle of antibiotic was coming soon. I kind of hoped she’d forget.

  “What I know is that it wasn’t just nerve gas that was released in the attack. There was also a very contagious virus combined in the aerosol. This virus is what is keeping the infected alive, apparently helping them survive the biological changes the nerve gas causes. They’ve also learned that it has a secondary effect that takes about two weeks to incubate. It mimics the effects of the nerve gas, impacting brain chemistry, but it does it differently and doesn’t completely destroy all of the higher brain functions.”

  “So anyone who turned from the second wave will still have some of their higher cognitive functions intact?” Rachel asked without pausing in her work.

  “That’s what I’m told, but I haven’t seen it myself. Tell me about it.”

  I told Max about the females that I was calling smart. It all made sense, what he was saying. I hadn’t seen any like that before the second wave.

  “Do we know just how smart they are? And by the way it only seems to be women that are retaining any intelligence. The males that are infected seem just as dumb as ever.”

  “I don’t know,” Max answered with a concerned look on his face. “But you can bet I’ll pass on what you’ve told me and ask some more questions the next time I’m on the phone.”

  “What about those of us that haven’t turned?” Rachel asked, holding a large vial up to the light and stabbing a syringe into its top.

  “No one knows. Our researchers are stating that some of us, maybe about ten percent of the population, are immune to the nerve agent and by extension the virus. How they know, I don’t know. Don’t even know if they’re right, or if we’re all going to wake up tomorrow morning with a hunger for human flesh.”

  That thought killed the conversation, plus it was time for my shot. Rachel waved me out of my seat and I stood up with a sigh, turned around and unbuckled my belt and pants. Rachel pulled them down in back, swabbed an area with alcohol and jabbed the needle in. OK, forget what I said about her being gentler.

  28

  It’s a little over 200 miles from Nashville to Memphis. Based on the speed Colonel Crawford had said we were travelling, I estimated the trip would take about four and a half hours and we’d been rolling for close to an hour. We’d left the thunderstorms behind, but there was heavy cloud cover and the landscape outside the windows was completely dark. I raised my rifle a few times to peer through the night vision scope, but there wasn’t anything to see other than passing trees and pastures so I sat back and relaxed. Max had rolled off to a row of seats where his boys had stretched out to get some rest and Rachel and I sat together with Dog at our feet.

  “We should talk about the elephant in the room.” Rachel said. I didn’t want to have this conversation, but she was right. Saying what she’d said was no different than firing a rifle. Once you pull the trigger you can’t take the bullet back.

  “What did Mel say to you just before she died?”

  “She told me to quit lying to myself and be honest.” Rachel turned her head to look at me as she talked. “She saved my life, you know. A female came through the window right next to us and was coming straight at me. We were jammed in so tight I couldn’t move, but she jumped and put herself between us.”

  I was quiet for a minute. “Sounds like you two had quite a conversation about me.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not that conversation worthy.” I grinned but didn’t say anything. “Actually we almost came to blows a couple of times. Not over you, she was just one of those people that… well, she was just one of those people. But she was also right. I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable, or whatever it is but we could die ten minutes from now. I just spoke my mind and my heart.”

  I sat there for a long time, digesting what she’d said. I knew she wanted me to tell her something, anything. Opening your heart up to someone and then getting nothing in return is one of the loneliest feelings in the world.

  “Rachel, you know my situation. What I may or may not feel for you doesn’t enter into the mix right now. I’m married. I love my wife and I’m going to find out what happened to her or die trying. That hasn’t changed. Any feelings I have for you aren’t going to stop me from doing that.”

  “Really?” She sounded pissed. “Is that really why you think I told you how I feel? You actually think I want you to stop, to just give up on her? You’ve seriously misjudged me if that’s what you think.”

  “Then what?” I turned to meet her eyes. “What do you think can happen? Suppose I tell you I love you and we keep looking for her and find her alive and waiting for me. What then?”

  Rachel looked back at me, her eyes moving slightly side to side as she looked into each of mine. “I don’t know. All I know is how I feel about you and I haven’t thought about any of the rest of it. My promise to help you find her is still good, and if we find her alive and waiting I’ll be happy for you and wish you well. But that doesn’t change anything about how I feel today. How I’ve been feeling for a while.”

  Shit. My head was spinning and I just wanted to crawl in a hole and pull the ground in behind me.

  “Just tell me one thing,” she continued after a long pause. “Do you love me too?”

  I drew in a deep breath, held it and let it out in a long sigh. “Honestly, I don’t know what I feel. Do I have feelings for you? Yes. Am I in love with you? Maybe. I don’t know. You remind me so much of her it’s hard for me not to like many of the things I see in you that first attracted me to her. What I know is I’m glad we’re together and I’m truly sorry I can’t give you what you want right now.”

  After a long moment Rachel placed her hand on top of mine and gave me a weak smile. “I can deal with honesty. Just let me know when you know.”

  I smiled back, grateful the conversation was over. One of the things I loved about Katie was that we never had to have these conversations about our feelings. I made up my mind right there that when I found Katie I was going to remind her I fought my way across the entire country, to be with her, every time she started fishing for a compliment about her appearance or reassurance that I loved her. Not that she did it often, but I’d just found the Holy Grail for married men everywhere. ‘Honey, I fought my way across 2,000 miles and millions of infected to come back to you, getting shot, bitten and generally having my ass kicked the entire way. Of course you look good in that outfit’.

  I couldn’t help but laugh at myself and fortunately, before Rachel could inquire into what was so amusing I saw Jackson enter the front of the car. He was pushing his way through the evacuees, looking around then nodding when he spotted me. I didn’t feel the need to stand up to greet him. I was just too damn tired, and sat there watching him approach. In his wake I could see a man in an Air Force Class A uniform, I think the AF calls them something like Service Dress or some such nonsense, which struck me as really odd considering we were in a combat zone, not a conference room. Then I saw the single star the Air Force officer was wearing, said a curse to myself and climbed to my feet, wondering what the hell a Brigadier General was doing here.

  On my feet and stepping into the aisle, I looked up from the star to the face of the man and was momentarily confused. I knew the face, and it didn’t belong in a uniform with a star on it, or in any uniform as far as I was concerned. I lunged forward, pushing past Jackson who spun when I moved, expecting to see an attacking infected. My right hand was up and a punch that would knock his head off was started when I remembered my damaged hand and modified my movement. Instead of striking his face with my fist I connected solidly with my forearm, knocking him to the bloody floor on his back. I continued forward, drawing my Ka-Bar and landed on his body, pressing the tip of the knife to his throat.

  “You gutless fucker. I should carve you up right here.” I snarled, my face inches from his.

  Jackson had been caught completely unprepared f
or my attack on the man he had accepted as a General, and the soldiers that had accompanied him stood frozen, looks of shock on their faces. Recovering quickly, Jackson stepped to my side and placed a hand lightly on my shoulder.

  “Major, take it easy.” From the corner of my eye I could see his other hand held a pistol along the side of his leg, pointed at the floor.

  “Fuck easy,” I growled. “This piece of shit isn’t a General. He’s an Air Force Captain and a deserter.”

  “Sergeant, get this crazy man off of me!” Captain Roach shouted, trying to bluff his way out of the problem he found himself in.

  “He’s telling the truth, Sergeant.” Rachel spoke up from behind me. “That’s an Air Force Security Forces Captain, not a General. He was with us when we were evacuating people at Arnold Air Force Base and was supposed to be guarding our rear, but he just disappeared. We thought the infected got him, but he must have abandoned us and run away.”

  Roach’s eyes were looking all over the place, the momentary bluff and bravado gone. “I didn’t run away. I got knocked out and barely made it out alive.”

  I heard Jackson’s pistol slide back into his holster a moment before he removed his hand from my shoulder. “What do you want to do with him, Major?”

  I wanted to gut the son of a bitch and toss him off the train for the infected to feed on. I wanted to stand him up against the wall and shoot pieces of him off, one at a time. Desertion during a time of war is a serious offense in the military and is punishable by either life at hard labor or execution. Maybe we weren’t fighting a declared war, but I didn’t think anyone was going to give Roach an inch on that technicality. Half a second from ramming the blade into his head I thought better of my actions. Sheathing the knife I stood up and looked at the two soldiers standing on the other side of Roach.