Dead and Dead Again: Kansas City Quarantine (62 page)

“I was simply stating that some
relationships make you feel like everything is out of your control. You have to
decide if what you are expecting to get out of the relationship is worth the
negatives you will have to endure to achieve those goals.”

“So beautiful and he’s got such a bleak
view on relationships,” the captain said under her breath, but somehow he heard
it over the rumbling diesels.

“Not really,” he replied as if
reading her mind.

Shit,
she thought, then remembered
she was now wearing one of their mics and she’d never turned it off after
testing. She hadn’t said it under her breath, but into the mic for everyone to
hear. She’d said everything into the mic.
Shit
, her mind repeated
angrily.

“It is this way with all types of
relationships,” he rolled on, ignoring her awkward moment as if he were
oblivious to it. “All types,” he repeated. “Between people, between companies,
and even between countries. If we can overlook the negatives in light of the
beneficial things, then many agreements and arrangements can be made. If,
however, the negatives cannot be overlooked, we must take time away and lessen
communication until we can find a middle-ground again.”

By the time he was finished she
realized she was staring like a love-sick schoolgirl and straightened her
uniform roughly. “Whatever. I was just saying…I’m feeling a little…”

“Impotent,” Hef suggested.

“That’s…not…the exact word I would
use,” she spluttered. “I’m feeling very potent. I’m just uncomfortable letting
others give orders to my people.”

“Orders. Orders. Orders,” Hef
breathed in mild annoyance. “Do you never take time off?”

“I’m on a mission.” She stated
flatly, blood rising to her cheeks as she picked up a certain, unmistakable
vibe.

“But the mission is on hold now for
several additional hours,” he breathed smoothly, seeming to have halved the
distance between their two bodies without her noticing. “I visualize you as a
rum girl, am I right?” he raised an eyebrow.

Pulse quickening, body tingling,
she could only nod.

“I have a very expensive bottle of
spiced rum from Jamaica that you must try,” he suggested. “My shift here is
over in ten minutes. Why not take a few minutes to check out of that uniform and
meet me in my room?” he asked.

“I…I don’t have anything to change
into,” she mumbled meekly.

He leaned in, warm breath whispering
into her ear, sending shockwaves throughout her body. “That’s ok. I kind of
like the uniform anyway. I’ll see you in ten,” he promised, shoving her lightly
towards the door.

She went. Another damn person
telling her what to do and she went without a second thought. ‘Went’ in this
case meant dashing through the cars at full throttle like a mad-woman and then stripping
completely naked and diving into the shower before the door to her quarters had
swung shut.

All he did was ask you in for a
drink,
part of her mind cautioned her.

And he can drink as much of me
as he wants,
another silent voice replied
. Wait. What? What does that
even mean? Like he’s a fucking vampire or something? Get your head out of your
ass, Genevieve. Oh god that smooth skin. I want to cover him with honey and just
lick him all over. Oh shit. I can’t go over there like this.
She turned off
the hot water and stood staring at a discolored beige tile on the white shower
wall, breathing deeply the sweet fragrance of Jasmine and some other flowers
from her conditioner.

Just take it easy,
she
started to cool down a little
. If it happens, it happens…

Only a few minutes later she
marched through the corridor in a fresh uniform someone had laid out for her
while she was out earlier, whistling a tune her subconscious had made up while
she was getting dressed, she called it
If it Happens, It Happens
and it
had a very happy ending.

Hef finished his shift and turned
the helm over to Lucy. He didn’t notice the broken-hearted look of longing she
directed at his back as he sauntered out. But with a well-practiced grimace, she
shook her head to clear it and put her attention back to driving them to safety,
misty dark eyes carefully monitoring the drone’s cameras despite the heavy
blanket of sadness covering her heart.

The oxen are slow, but the earth
is patient,
she repeated one of her favorite quotes. It seemed fitting
somehow.

The passing of another four hours
found Gus, Joel, Scaggs and Felicia still on watch, all unwilling to wake the
others when they were still amped up and enjoying themselves. Scaggs now drove
the train after Lucy had given up the controls to go to bed early, claiming she
wasn’t feeling very well.

“I have to plug the drone in so it
will recharge,” Lucy explained as she shuffled out of the engine room looking
as if she hadn’t slept in three days.

“So we’re driving blind. Great. Oh!
Thanks for teaching me how to drive a train!” Scaggs had called after her. Lucy
waved weakly before disappearing down the padded steel corridor.

Gus manned the left side gun-port
across the room from Scaggs. The ‘garage car’ rear turret was unmanned for now
because they had decided to let everyone sleep for a few more hours and manning
it would have meant waking someone up. It would only take them another few hours
to get to their destination and they were sure Calvin and the others would need
their rest for the trek south to the castle after dropping the doctor off. There
was a person on each of the engine turrets while Saul manned the sleeper car
turret and Quinn covered the workshop air gun.

“Gussy…Guster, we’ve got a
problem,” Scaggs shot him a warning look from across the engine room, where she
studied the computer screen that tracked their position on the rail system. The
program showed every known track line and the condition of all switches. If
there was a train on the system with the proper GPS transponder it would show a
number, speed, destination and ETA information in a little popup window. Before
leaving Hef had informed Lucy that their route was pretty straight and they
would only pass a few switches. He had also told her that all of the switches
were green and then had shown her how to switch them just in case there was a
problem…and Lucy had passed that knowledge on to Scaggs before leaving. Scaggs
knew computers, and she understood simple tasks like this, so when she’d seen
the red indicator on their next switch, she had tried to change it to green just
like Lucy had shown her. A little window had popped up saying ‘Priority
Override’ instead of the nice information she’d been expecting.

Problem, yes that’s a problem,
she thought.

“Don’t tell me, we ran out of track?”
Gus joked.

“Close enough. Someone switched the
track on us and it’s locked out to manual.”

“What? That’s impossible. Hef said
his codes override everyone but the F.R.A. and some of the top bosses in the
industry.” Still, he slowed the train to a greater crawl and walked over to her
monitor.

“Well, one of them knows we’re out
here,” she grunted ominously.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean they don’t want us going
anywhere.”

“Ah, they probably don’t even know
the track is locked.”

“I switched it back green, and it
turned back off. We rinsed and repeated as necessary. Then they locked it to
manual. We can’t switch from this laptop.”

“The entire railroad?”

“No, just that section up ahead for
now. But if they can do it to one…” she didn’t have to finish the rest.

“What’s going on?” Joel queried at
just under a yell. He and Felicia had jumped down from the turrets and met in
the middle, holding hands as they joined the others by the monitor.

“Someone switched the tracks and
locked us out.”

“That’s impossible. Hef said—”

“We know!” Scaggs and Gus yelled
together.

“Well we have to do something. It’s
coming up in another half mile.”

“Someone must have done it
manually,” Gus offered. “If someone is at the actual switch, there are several
overrides that lock out switching from a remote source. That’s the only way
they’d be able to supersede his codes and keep him out.”

The others stared at him in wide-eyed
wonder.

“Hey, Hef knows all of that stuff
and he gets talkative when he’s high. I just remembered him telling me that
someone on the ground can screw the whole thing if they’ve got the equipment
and codes.”

“Well, someone needs to go out and
switch it back,” Scaggs suggested, looking at Gus with a query in an arched
eyebrow.

“Ok. Me and Scaggs will jump out
and switch the track—” Gus began planning, but was interrupted.

“—Hephaestus said to wake him if
anything happens to slow or stop us,” Felicia warned them.

“That man really needs his sleep,”
Scaggs informed her. “He was talking to a wall for five minutes earlier before
he realized Quinn had walked away.”

“Yeah, I think I heard him hit on
Captain Buttmunch earlier,” Joel added. “He clearly needs some rest.”

“I don’t know,” Gus countered, “she’s
not unattractive.” He looked to Scaggs for confirmation and she nodded.

“Yeah, I’d fuck her,” she admitted.

“Yeah, but she’s kind of an iron
bitch,” Joel pointed out quietly, in case anyone was in the compartment next
door. “And Hef is just so nice. I don’t see it.”

“He was real emphatic about waking him
up!” Felicia added in a very loud voice in case they simply couldn’t hear her.

“Hef’s been going non-stop for a
week, you guys. I’m not gonna wake him for something we can do ourselves,” Gus declared
with a firm note of finality.

“Well, he’s definitely earned his
rest,” Felicia agreed tentatively, looking appreciatively up at her turret and
running a hand fondly across the cushioned padding of the underside of the
cupola seat. “We can cover you from the turrets, I guess.”

If any of them had bothered to honor
his wishes, they would have learned that Hephaestus was in his quarters doing
quite the opposite of resting with the captain and both were enjoying it
immensely. But no one thought on it again until the situation had already
spiraled well out of control.

“Ok. Keep the lights on and let us
know if you see any movement,” Gus said in a shaky voice.

“You know…if someone switched the
track manually, doesn’t it mean that that someone might be out there waiting?”
Felicia asked hesitantly.

“That’s why you’ll be on the
turret,” Scaggs pointed out.

“But doesn’t that mean it is real people?”

“Would you rather shoot a person
with a bullet or a nail?” Gus asked.

“Point. But be careful out there,
ok guys?”

The sun had disappeared behind the
heavy, ominous storm front an hour before. Foggy, low-lying cloud cover rolled
in smoky waves over the landscape, obliterating what few sights there were to
see in the flat Kansas plains and a gloom nearly as thick as evening blanketed
their spirits as completely as it covered the countryside. The cameras became
useless, only showing a few dozen feet in any direction.

“Remind me to suggest to Festus
that he put heat vision cameras on this,” Joel grumbled, climbing the spiral
stairs to the catwalk and walking in a hunch to his turret at the front, shaking
his head at the grayed-out feed coming in on his Ipad.

“Ok, I’m in position,” he informed
his best friend. “Let’s switch this bitch…”

* * * * *

“What is it?” Calvin inquired through
a groggy fog from the doorway several minutes later, having been summoned over
the intercom by an emergency call from Joel, who waved them back to the room
behind the engine where it would be quieter.

Hef had entered just behind Calvin
and they both turned back to the big room rubbing their eyes and stretching. Both
men had ruffled hair and sleepy eyes. The difference was that as a day went on,
Calvin would likely remain foggy and disheveled while Hef would run his fingers
through his thick, straight, jet black hair and sprinkle some water into his eyes
and look completely refreshed while Calvin would need a shower and two pots of tea
to come close to that. He loved his old friend like a brother, but sometimes he
just wanted to punch him in his perfect face.

“We have a big problem.” Joel
repeated the intercom announcement that now had the entire population of the
train arming for battle. That announcement had been accompanied with “Drop your
socks and grab your…um, guns.”

“Didn’t I ask you to wake me if
something happened?” Hef demanded in an annoyed grunt.

“Not really the time, is it
Festus?” Joel asked, eying his friend up and down.

He already looked more refreshed
after just running his fingers through his dark hair. As did the captain, who
walked out of the sleeper area looking energized, if a bit…sweaty. She must
have been working out somewhere, Joel thought.  Soon Boomer, Tripper and Sarah exited
the hallway with the rest of the military guys in tow.

“Why are we stopped?” the Captain
demanded, buckling her holster on and trying to straighten her uniform at the
same time. In no time she was standing before Calvin straight as a red-tipped
arrow, green eyes flashing at having to report to a civilian.

“There was a problem with the
track.”

“What
kind
of problem?” she
asked, demanding clarity from this opaque situation, though she did seem to be
less of a bitch than before.

Tripper whistled.

“Uh-oh,” Athena grunted.

They were just learning what kind
of problem as Tripper repositioned the cameras. Thirty barrels full of
flammable materials suddenly flared up around them as if the entire train had
been instantly transported to the center of a homeless city.

“That kind of a problem,” Calvin
pointed to the monitor for the track ahead. And out to the sides. “And that
kind,” he added.

Sitting a hundred yards ahead, now lit
up through the fog by the half dozen red high-illumination lights Calvin had
switched on, a twenty-foot wall of debris had been stacked like a garbage pile across
the tracks, just past the crossing of a two-lane blacktop.

“I thought we wouldn’t reach the
wall until much later,” the captain yawned in a confused daze.

“That’s not
the
wall. It’s
a
wall,” Joel replied from the top of his spiral ladder. He didn’t want to come
down because of what waited outside,
and
what he had to tell them.

Fifty-five gallon drums full of
some kind of fuel were burning all around the train. The roadway that crossed
the tracks was lined with vehicles, though they were parked off the street to
keep the lanes open. To the left, a mob of one-hundred angry citizens brandishing
pitchforks and guns waited for them to respond to their demands.

“So…what exactly happened, Joel?”
Calvin asked, considering options.

“Scaggs and FeFe found a red switch
on the monitor. Scaggs tried to switch it back to green, and she did, but then
someone switched it again. She did it again. They did it again. On. Off. On.
Off. Then they locked her out.”

Hephaestus whistled.

“Then Gus and Scaggs decided to go
out and move the switch themselves with me and Felicia, Saul and Quinn covering
them from the turrets. There was nothing out there, nothing anywhere, but suddenly
they were yelling for help.”

“These guys just came up out of the
ground and grabbed them,” Felicia added excitedly. “Like the fracking special
forces.”

“You should have woken me, first,”
Calvin suggested tersely, but without anger.

“We felt everyone else needed their
sleep. It was just a switch, and we know how to change that,” Joel explained.
“We had more than enough firepower between the four of us, Saul and Quinn to
keep the dead back and make anyone else think twice…or so we thought.”

“What did they say?”

“They want us to get off the train
and let them on.”

“And what did
you
say?”

“Well, realizing we’d made a big
mistake by then, I didn’t feel very responsive.”

“…so, what did you say?” repeated Calvin,
grimacing.

“I said, I’m sorry but we are no
longer allowed to make decisions because we are monumentally stupid. If you
would kindly wait there, I must consult with El Supremo regarding your demands.”

Calvin laughed. Even the hardnosed
captain had to hide a smile. Calvin felt she might even be blushing for some
reason, she was looking so flustered.

“I’m not getting any air from the
compressor,” said Felicia over the mic, ruining the optimistic moods of nearly
everyone and bringing to their attention just how truly precarious was the situation.

“I’m down too,” Joel reported.

“The compressor might be down,”
Felicia suggested. “I can’t hear anything.”

“Uh-oh,” Hef snapped and rushed off
to check out the appropriate connections, breakers and other things needing to
be checked.

“Can I help?” the captain leaned in
and asked.

“No. Thank you, Genevieve. Calvin
may need your guns,” Hephaestus told her. “Quinn, wake up!” he yelled into the
mic, giving everyone else another headache they didn’t need.

“Sorry,” he apologized to the
others.

“I’m up. I didn’t sleep like some
other people I know. I was on post in a turret,” Quinn answered testily. “I’m
following the lines to the front from the workshop, nothing to report yet.”

“No. Come up here and help me check
the compressor itself. I can hear that it’s not running. I’ll check the
electrical, you check the mechanical.”

“Be there in twenty seconds if
everyone stays out of my way,” promised Quinn.

“What are you going to do, Calvin?”
Athena asked.

“I’ll have to stall them,” he
replied with a casual shrug.

“How?”

“By using the only weapon I have at
the moment that won’t kill them.”

“Your sense of humor isn’t going to
get us out of this,” Sarah joked. “It’s barely good enough to even get that
mob’s attention.”

“Bombs. Do we have bombs?” Boomer
asked.

“Bombs would kill them, Boomer,”
Calvin pointed out with a tired sigh. “I’m talking about a weapon so powerful
that most people won’t stand a chance.”