by A. G. Riddle
The white coat turned to another group. “Supplies? On the train. Hurry.”
The train. Twenty feet to freedom. But David couldn’t move.
62
Kate arrived just as the passenger train pulled away. She ran after it, her legs burning as she pushed herself until she was lightheaded, and the train was half a football field away.
She stood there, bent over, her hands on her knees, panting as the rhythmic chug-chug-chug of the train faded into the vast green forest.
The children were on that train. She knew it, somewhere, somehow, in a place she couldn’t identify. They were out of reach. And she was in over her head. The device, this place. In that moment, she felt utterly defeated.
She looked around. There wasn’t another train. The train ride in was almost an hour through nothing but dense forest. She couldn’t walk out, and she had another problem: it was getting colder. She needed shelter, but how long could she hide here before some Immari security officer found her?
Another thought broke into her mind: David. Would he be looking for her? His blasts had done a number on the buildings. He was probably on that train, assuming that she was too. Was he searching every car, expecting to find her sitting with the children? What would he do when he couldn’t find her? She knew what the Immari would do if they captured her.
She glanced back at the burning Immari complex. It was her only option.
Another train horn. Kate spun around, searching. Where had it come from? She twisted again, desperately trying to find the direction. It had to be on the other side of the campus. She set off running, her lungs now burning both from the cold and the impact in the Bell room.
She reached the medical building just as the train horn sounded again. She put her head down and charged through the chaos inside. The rear door of the facility opened onto a small courtyard that led to the power plant, which had clearly taken most of the damage. It was a smoking, crumbling ruin. Two of the huge vase-like smokestacks had toppled completely. The train whistle called again—it was coming from the other side of the building. Kate ran with all the strength she could muster. Another explosion in the power plant filled the air, almost knocking her over. She steadied herself and plowed on.
As she cleared the side of the power building, she saw it—a cargo train. Workers were tossing supplies and bodies through the wide sliding doors as the train rolled slowly by, allowing them to spread the load among the cars.
Seeing the carnage outside the power plant forced another thought into Kate’s mind: what if David didn’t make it out? He could still be inside. Or on the train. She could see people inside the cargo cars, hovering over bodies. David could be one of them. She would search the train, before it got away, then the power plant. She wouldn’t leave without him.
Behind her, Kate heard a voice she knew. The British doctor. Barnaby Prendergast?
She ran to him. “Barnaby, have you seen—” But he was focused on a body. He ignored Kate and yelled at a group of Chinese security guards standing nearby. Kate grabbed him by the lapels of his sodden white coat and turned him around. “Barnaby, I’m looking for a man, a security guard, blonde, in his thirties—”
“You!” Barnaby tried to pull away, but Kate held him tight. When he took in Kate’s appearance, her blood-soaked clothes and seeming lack of any wounds, he staggered backward and tried to break her hold. “You did this!” He waved to one of the security guards. “Help! This woman is an impostor, a terrorist, she did this, someone help me!”
People stopped what they were doing and looked over. Several security people began walking toward Kate.
Kate released Barnaby and looked around. “He’s lying! I didn’t—” But the guards kept coming. She had to get out of here. She scanned the platform for an exit, a—
Then she saw David, lying there, not moving, his eyes closed, his body resting awkwardly on the debris-ridden concrete platform. Alone. Dying. Or dead?
Kate sprinted over to him and inspected his wounds. Gunshots. Two: his shoulder and leg. What had happened to him? The wounds were bad, but something bothered Kate even more—they were hardly bleeding. A chill ran through her, and the pit of her stomach seemed to drop.
She had to keep going. She scanned the rest of him. His clothes were in tatters, and a litany of burn marks and shrapnel holes dotted his legs and torso, but nothing as major as the gunshots. She needed—
She felt a hand on her shoulder—a security guard, then another one, three of them were on her. She had blocked everything out when she saw David. They grabbed her by the arms and stood her up. Barnaby was behind them, pointing and egging the mob on, “I tried to stop her!”
Kate struggled to escape the security guard’s grip, but he pulled her in tight. Her hand was at his side, on his gun. She ripped at it, but it wouldn’t come free. She twisted it again with all her might and she heard a pop; she had it. But they still held her so tight; all three were on her, dragging her to the ground. She pointed toward the air and squeezed the trigger. The gun almost flew out of her hand, but the men scattered, and Barnaby scampered away in full retreat, looking back nervously before putting his head down and charging on.
Kate held the gun out from her, waving it left and right as the men held up their hands and backed away. Her hand shook badly, and she braced it with her other hand. She glanced behind her. The train—it was almost gone now. The last people on the platform had fled into the three remaining cars, which would soon be gone.
“Put him on the train,” she commanded the guards. They kept backing away. Kate pointed the gun at David, then the train. “On. Now!” She backed away from David, giving the men space. They picked him up and carried him to the car, placing him right on the edge. Kate kept the gun on them as she shuffled to a clump of medical supplies scattered across the ground, no doubt dropped by the frightened workers. What was the priority? Antibiotics. Something to clean and close the wound. She couldn’t save him, but she could try, if only for her own sake.
Another explosion rocked the facility, followed by the sound of an angry Chinese voice shouting over the guards’ radios. The guards apparently decided that with everything else going on, they had more urgent priorities than dealing with the crazy woman stealing medical supplies, and Kate found herself suddenly left alone.
Behind her, the train was moving faster, away from the building. Kate started to tuck the gun in her waistband but then paused, eyeing it. Was it still cocked? The hammer was back. She’d probably blow her leg off. She placed it carefully on the ground, gathered as many supplies as she could hold, and ran for the train. A few boxes tumbled off the stack onto the ground, but she kept going. She could barely keep pace with the train. She tossed the supplies on; a few hit the edge of the car and bounced off. She grabbed the handle at the door and jumped, landing on her stomach, her legs dangling off. She pulled herself into the car and watched as first the platform disappeared, then the power plant.
She crawled over to David. “David? Can you hear me? You’re going to be okay.”
She reached over and began sorting through the paltry pile of supplies.
63
David turned in horror as the building collapsed, engulfing him in concrete, dust, and metallic shards. He felt the rubble press in around him, crushing him, grinding into his wounds. He breathed dust and soot, listening to the screams, some close, some distant. And he waited. For how long, he didn’t know. Then they were there, pulling him out.
“We got you. Don’t try to move, buddy.”
FDNY. They pulled and dug out around him. They called for a stretcher, strapped him to it, and carried him over the uneven ground. Sunlight bathed his face.
A doctor pulled his eyelids back and shined a light over him, then tied something around his leg.
“Can you hear me?” She worked at his leg some more, then returned to his face. “Your leg was crushed, and there’s a large laceration in your back, but you’re going to be okay. Do you understand?”
Kate tied off the wounds to David’s leg and shoulder, but it wouldn’t matter—there wasn’t much blood flow to stop. He already felt cold.
She told herself it was just the cold wind blowing in through the door to the car. The train was moving fast now, much faster than the one coming in. The sun was setting and the temperature was dropping. She stood and struggled with the metal sliding door. She couldn’t close it at this speed.
She collapsed back to the floor, took David by the arm, and dragged him to the corner, as far away from the door as she could get. She’d given him a shot of antibiotics and cleaned and closed the wounds as best she could. There was nothing left to do. She leaned back against the wall, pulled him into her lap, and put her legs around his to try to keep him warm. His listless head came to rest on her stomach, and she ran a hand through his short hair. He was getting colder.
64
Beyond the windows of the helicopter, the sun was setting on the Tibetan plateau. Dorian tried to find the facility in the expanse of green forest. It was just a single column of gray and white smoke now, like a campfire in the untouched wilderness.
“The last train is away,” Dmitry said.
“Drones?” Dorian didn’t look away from the window or the column of smoke.
“Thirty minutes out.” When Dorian said nothing, the man continued, “What now?”
“Stop the trains. Catalog everyone, including the dead bodies. Make sure our men are in full quarantine gear.”
65
Kate stared out into the black night. A sliver of a moon cast a small twinkle of light over the treetops that rushed by. Or had rushed by. The train was slowing. But there was nothing outside, just forest.
She slid David’s head out of her lap and walked to the door. She leaned out and looked toward the front of the train, then to the rear. They were in the last car, and there was nothing on the tracks behind them. Kate turned to go back into the car, and she saw it—through the opposite door, on the track beside them, another train, sitting there as still and dark as the night, almost invisible. And there was something else: dark figures standing on the top of the train. Waiting for what?
The train stopped, and at almost the same instant, she heard the thunder of boots landing on the ceiling. Kate moved back into the shadow of the car just as the soldiers swooped in through the doorway like gymnasts rounding a high bar. They spread out in the room quickly, shining lights in her face and in every corner of the car. They snapped a zip line between the trains and pulled it to test the strength.
A man grabbed Kate, clipped onto the line, and launched out the door toward the second train. Kate looked back. David! But they had him too; another man, right behind her, held David to his chest with one arm like you might carry a sleeping child.
Kate’s captor led her into a dining car and shoved her into a booth. “Wait here,” he said in Chinese-accented English before turning to leave.
The other man brought David in and plopped him down on a couch. Kate rushed to him. He didn’t look any worse, but that wasn’t saying much. He didn’t have long.
She raced to the door the soldier was closing. She grabbed it, stopping him. “Hey, we need some help.”
He stared at her, then resumed trying to close the door.
“Stop! We need a hospital. Medical supplies. Blood.” Did the man understand a word she was saying? “Med kit,” she said desperately, looking for anything that might register.
He placed a hand on her chest, shoved her back into the train car and slammed the door.
Kate walked back over to David. The bullets from the gunshots to his shoulder and leg had both gone straight through. Kate had closed the wounds as best she could. She needed to clean the wounds properly, but infection wasn’t the biggest risk to his life at the moment. He needed blood—now. Kate could give him blood—she was O negative, the universal donor. If… she could get it inside him.
The train lurched, throwing Kate to the floor. They were moving. She got back to her feet as the train jerked forward in gasps and spurts, picking up speed. Out the window, she couldn’t see the other train, the cargo train they had been on. They were taking them in the opposite direction. Who were they? Kate pushed the question out of her mind. Saving David was all that mattered to her right now.
She glanced around. Maybe there was something she could use. The dining car was about forty feet long, most of it dedicated to booths, but at the far end was a small bar with a soft-drink dispenser, glasses, and liquor. Maybe the tube—
The door slid open again and another soldier staggered in, trying to keep his balance as the train accelerated. He set an olive case with a red cross painted on the side down on the floor.
Kate lunged for it.
The soldier had fled the car and closed the door by the time Kate reached the case. She threw it open and ransacked it. Relief spilled over her when she saw the contents.
Fifteen minutes later, the tube ran from Kate’s arm to David’s. She pumped her fist. The blood flowed. She was so hungry. And sleepy. But she was doing something for him, and that felt very good.
66
Kate awoke to the chime of bells drifting in through a large picture window above the alcove that held her small twin bed. A cool, crisp, clean mountain wind pushed the white linen drapes out over her bed, almost touching her face.
She reached up to touch the cloth but drew back in pain. Inside her elbow, her arm was badly bruised. Pools of dark purple and black extended into her forearm and crawled up her bicep.
David.
She looked out at the room, some sort of classroom maybe. The room was long and wide with a rustic wooden floor, white plaster walls, and wood beams every ten feet.
She barely remembered getting off the train. It had been late in the night. The men had carried her up endless stairs, into a mountain fortress. She remembered it now… a temple or maybe a monastery.
She started to roll off the bed, but something startled her—movement in the room, a figure rising from the floor. He had been sitting so still she hadn’t seen him. He walked closer, and Kate could see he was young, a teenager. He looked almost like a teenage Dalai Lama. He wore a thick crimson robe that was clasped at one shoulder and extended to his toes, resting just above his leather sandals. His head was shaved. He smiled at her and said eagerly, “Good morning, Dr. Warner.”
She put her feet on the ground. “I’m sorry; you startled me.” She felt lightheaded.
He bowed extravagantly, extending one arm out toward the ground as he bent. “I did not mean to alarm, Madam. I am Milo, at your service.” He spoke each word with care.
“Uh, thank you.” She rubbed her head, trying to focus. “There was a man with me.”
“Ah, yes, Mr. Reed.”
Reed?
Milo paced to a table near the bed. “I came to take you to him.” He picked up a large ceramic bowl with two hands and walked back to her, extending it toward her face. “But first, breakfast!” He raised his eyebrows as he said it.
Kate reached out to brush the bowl aside, but as she stood, she felt faint. She collapsed back onto the bed, disoriented.
“Breakfast does a Dr. Warner good.” Milo smiled and extended the bowl again.
Kate leaned closer, smelled the thick porridge concoction, and reluctantly took the spoon and tried it. Delicious. Or was it that she was so famished, and the ration packs had been so bad? She finished the bowl in seconds and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Milo returned the bowl to the table and handed her a thick cloth like a handkerchief. Kate smiled sheepishly and wiped her mouth.
“Now, I’d like to see—”
“Mr. Reed. Of course. Right this way.” Milo led her out of the room and down a long breezeway that connected several structures.
The view was breathtaking. A green plateau spread out before them, reaching to the horizon, interrupted only by several snow-capped mountain ranges. Smoke from several villages emerged from the plateau below. In the distance, something dotted t
he sides of the mountains: other monasteries, built right into the steep snow-capped slopes.
Kate had to fight the urge to stop and take it all in. Milo slowed to let her catch up.
They turned another corner. Below them, a large square wooden deck overlooked the valleys and mountains below. Twenty or thirty men, all with shaved heads and dressed in crimson robes, sat cross-legged, unmoving, staring out into the distance.
Milo turned to Kate. “Morning meditation. Would you like to join?”
“Uh, not today,” Kate mumbled as she fought to look away from the scene.
Milo ushered her into another room where she saw David lying in an alcove similar to the one she’d woken up in. Kate ran to him. She knelt at his bedside and examined him quickly. He was awake but listless. Antibiotics—he needed more to fight the infection. Unchecked, it would kill him for sure. She would have to disinfect and close the bullet wounds properly sooner or later.
First things first. She’d left the antibiotics on the train. “Left” when she was abducted. Or rescued? There were so many mysteries at this point.
“Milo, I need some medications, antibiotics—”
The young man motioned her over to a table like the one he’d served her breakfast porridge from. “We assumed as much, Dr. Warner. I have prepared a series of remedies for your use.” He waved a hand over several piles of dirt-ridden roots, a pile of orange powder, and a bundle of mushrooms. He smiled and cocked his head, as if to say Pretty great, huh?
Kate put her hands on her sides. “Milo, these are, um, very helpful, thank you, but I um… I’m afraid his condition is severe—uh, will require some medi—”
Milo stepped back, grinned like the Cheshire Cat, and pointed at her. “Ahhh, I get you good, Dr. Warner!” He threw open the doors to a floor-to-ceiling wooden cabinet, revealing a bounty of modern medical supplies.
