Winter Apocalypse: Zombie Crusade V (18 page)

Barnes clapped. “Excellent performance. And I’m glad to discover that you’re smart enough to figure some things out on your own.”

“It doesn’t take much brain power to figure out what you think you’ve accomplished since you believe I’m Jack’s fiancé. Why don’t you test your theory—contact Jack and ask about me. I mean, believe me, if he’s really upset that I’m your prisoner, I’ll be delighted. I seriously doubt he’ll care all that much, but we can both hope your smarter than me about that.”

A brief expression of doubt crossed the general’s face as he searched Andi’s eyes and body language for clues to the accuracy of her claims. She just stared at him for a few heartbeats before continuing her explanation. “If he wants me back, I’ll be the happiest girl in the world, but as near as I can tell, I’m just another pretty woman who caught his fancy for a few months. I’ve been fighting, and practicing fighting, with Jack and Carter since I wondered into their Castle when the virus hit Noble County. I think Deb worried that I had the eye for Carter, and when Jack started spending time with me, all the other women hated me too. Unfortunately, powerful men tend to think they’re entitled to more than one woman. I bet you’re the same. There’s nothing more consistent than the male ego.”

Barnes stroked his thin mustache. “Except, perhaps, female duplicity.”

Andi rolled her eyes. “I used to be a history teacher. If you’re half as smart as people say you are, you know that men are the manipulators. And just how many women ever kept a harem of husbands for their personal pleasure? If you think I’m being less than honest with you, call Jack or Carter or anyone from Fort Wayne. I mean, Jack certainly likes me, and he’ll feel bad if something happens to me, but he’ll get over it quick enough.”

“I certainly wouldn’t mind making Jack feel bad, even temporarily,” Barnes mused. “But I think you’re more valuable to Jack Smith than you claim.”

She shrugged and frowned. “I’ve been told that I took to soldiering really well, and I’m proud of that, but there’s a hundred people in Fort Wayne as good as me or better. Your mole probably felt like he had to give you something, besides blowing our wall, so he told you I was important to Jack.” Andi waved her hand in a flippant gesture. “Maybe he even believed it. By all means, give Jack a call; you’ve managed to capture a pretty, female soldier, that’s all. And it’s my bad luck, not Jack’s.”

Barnes pursed his lips and cocked his head, looking even uglier than usual as he finally spat out a reply. “You better hope that you are important to Jack Smith, Miss Carrell, or I’ll hand you over to my troops. They’ll play with you for a while, and then use you in a training exercise involving the flesh-eaters. As far as I’ve been able to determine through visual observation, being eaten alive looks like it really hurts.”

Andi didn’t even blink. “I’m sure it does. Do you think I could get that shower first though? You said cooperation has its rewards.”

Barnes laughed. “I can see why Jack is so fond of you, Miss Carrell, though I’m not convinced that you’ve really been cooperative. Still, I am a man of my word, and I’ll even go one step better. You can have a hot shower, clean clothes, and join me for a private dinner this evening.”

The modified boxcars carrying the soldiers being sent to retake Fort Wayne had been hurriedly loaded onto and sent north in the early hours of the morning. In Missouri, they’d passed Ted Simmons’ small train carrying the children of Fort Wayne to the relative safety of Vicksburg. The experienced engineer had pulled onto a siding to allow the troops to continue their journey, but he didn’t let them pass without a word of warning over the radio.

“Hiram, that snow almost caught us a couple of times after we turned south, and the wind hasn’t slowed one bit since then. You’re gonna have trouble with drifts.”

“Snow could stop these locomotives?” Hiram asked.

“Sure could,” Simmons answered. “Probably will stop you before you turn east. Be careful up there.”

“Will do,” Hiram promised. “Everything’s clear between here and Vicksburg. You shouldn’t have any trouble from here on out.”

“Thanks, Hiram. Good luck.”

The journey progressed steadily and uneventfully for several hours after Simmons’ warning, and then they entered Iowa, where the locomotives began to encounter the effects of the blizzard that had pounded the Midwest the previous day. As predicted, the wind had blown the snow so fiercely that every trace of the passage of the refugee train was covered. The sun was shining brightly above the pure, white landscape, but blowing snow was still piling into drifts on every structure that could catch and hold the icy powder. The rail industry had plenty of engines equipped with rotary snow blowers to clear tracks, but this unprecedentedly early onslaught of winter weather had caught the engineers by surprise. The trains slowed, and finally stopped as the drifts became too deep to plow through.

Hiram quickly called for a council with his company commanders and Stanley Rickers, seeking ideas on how to proceed with the mission. “We have two basic options,” he explained, “we can go back to Vicksburg and figure out another way to reach Fort Wayne, although I have no idea how we might do that, or we can figure out a way to move snow. What do you men think.”

When none of the Utah soldiers offered an opinion, Stanley cleared his throat and gave his two-cents-worth. “I suggest that we go into the nearest town and search for snow shovels. Every house will have one somewhere, and most of the big-box stores should still hold plenty of them.”

One of the captains from Utah shook his head in disagreement. “We can’t shovel four hundred miles of track.”

“Won’t have to,” Stanley replied. “Every Midwestern blizzard I’ve ever been through came out of the west, and the worst drifts were always found on the north-south roads. Even then, the winds do weird things with snow. In some stretches, these tracks will be clear for a long ways, while in others we’ll have some digging to do. But once we head east on the CSX line, we shouldn’t have too much trouble.”

“What about the hunters?” another commander asked.

Stanley shrugged. “We’ve been moving troops along these lines for months now, and haven’t seen anything other than small packs and individuals since the battles we fought to establish the connections between our states. I mean, of course we need to be careful and keep our eyes open, but we should be able to deal with the hunters in this area.”

“I agree,” Hiram declared. “Companies one through six will head out to search for shovels; the other four will stay here with the train. Stanley, we never did establish a command structure before we left Vicksburg, so as far as I’m concerned, you’re independent.”

“I appreciate the sentiment sir, but you and me have been fighting together for a long time now. You’re a general, and I was a platoon leader back home. I know my people; we’re all willingly placing ourselves under your command as an oversized company.”

Hiram nodded once before replying. “Thanks, Stanley, I’ll try not to get everybody killed.”

A chorus of nervous chuckles greeted the remark, then everyone headed out to issue orders to the platoon and squad leaders. Every soldier on the train had fought a desperate battle in Vicksburg just two days earlier. They were all tired and sore, with casualty lists near fifty percent in every company, and seventy percent in two of them. The Indiana contingent had fared much better in the fighting in front of the bridge. They’d been positioned between the Louisiana troops on the right, and a Utah brigade on their left. Neither unit had left their post, in spite of the massive attacks they’d endured for hours as Barnes threw everything he had at the forces defending the bridge.

With their flanks protected, the Hoosiers had been literally a killing machine throughout the struggle in Vicksburg. They were the best trained and equipped soldiers on the field, as well as the most experienced. Now, the warriors from Indiana were as tired as everyone else being sent north, but most of the fighters they’d travelled to Vicksburg with were present for duty. Still, not one member of Rickers’ company, nor a single soldier from Utah, asked the most important question as they prepared to dig their way to Fort Wayne: could General Barnes have anticipated, and prepared for, the allies’ effort to mount a counterattack?

CHAPTER 16

Gracie was confused and surprised by Luke’s strength and his food request. He still held her fast with his uninjured hand as he stared intently into her bewildered eyes. “Just trust me, Gracie, I need fresh meat.”

The implication of his request suddenly alarmed her. She studied her husband. “Are you . . .?”

He smiled weakly. “I’m still me; I’m just craving meat.”

“Okay,” Gracie nodded a little too robustly as she pried her wrist from his fingers. “All right, baby, I’ll get you whatever you need.”

She was elated and freaked out at the same time, looking around the room to make sure no one had arrived while she’d been distracted by Luke. She was concerned that Jack might have left someone behind with orders to kill Luke when he emerged from his fever. She sighed with relief when only Charlotte and Zach stood before her.

“There’s a lot of chicken left, if he wants meat,” Charlotte suggested with a slight shrug. “I’ll de-bone a plateful for him. We can probably find him some steak too, if he’s up for it.”

Gracie nodded, but looked troubled.

“He knows you, and he’s talking, and it seems that his fever has broken,” Charlotte encouraged. “I really think he’s gonna be okay. Honey, you can relax. It looks like that western method of bleeding out really does work, at least if it doesn’t kill you first.”

Zach spoke quietly. “What about his eyes?”

“Charlotte’s right,” Gracie said decisively, “we can relax. He knows us, he’s talking—it’s Luke and it doesn’t matter what color his eyes are.” A wide smile bloomed across her face. “Charlotte, let’s fix a huge plate of chicken. Zach, you go find us a steak.”

Three hours after a red-dawn sunrise greeted the weary, grieving travelers on Lake Erie, their yacht pulled into the harbor on Middle Bass Island to find only one person awaiting their arrival. Brittany was surprised and disappointed to find that nobody from their families had come down to greet them; she would have appreciated the comfort of their presence after the trauma of the previous night.

The teen waiting at the docks grabbed their lines and tied them securely before offering an explanation for the lack of a welcoming committee. “Everyone’s gathered in the meeting center; they’ve been waiting for you. I’m supposed to take you there straightaway. Something really bad went down in Fort Wayne last night.”

Brittany’s heart leapt to her throat. “What do you mean by bad?”

The kid shrugged. “All I know is that the entire community was evacuating and they’re heading this way; you’ll have to ask somebody else for the specifics.”

Roberto had walked over to see what the conversation was about. “Fort Wayne is evacuating and coming here now?”

“Yep, that’s got everyone worried too. Evacuating the entire settlement by boat in the middle of a snowstorm. Plus, ever since you radioed us about your casualties, everybody’s been waiting to talk to you. We’re all sad about Father O’Brien and Mr. Bowen; I can’t really believe they’re gone.”

Roberto took off at a slow jog as tears sprang to his eyes. He didn’t want to look weak in front of Brittany, and the mention of Father O’Brien and Bruce had temporarily overwhelmed his emotions. “Well, come’on,” he called out over his shoulder, trying to sound nonchalant. “Let’s get this party started.”

Chuck was keeping frantically busy ferrying refugees from the Maumee out to the relative safety and comfort of Middle Bass Island. Fueled by prodigious amounts of coffee, and one surviving energy drink, the flights continued sporadically throughout the day and into the night. Jack and his team revised their plan and decided the convoy of watercraft should skip the stop in Defiance and continue straight to Middle Bass. Jack was anxious to talk to Lieutenant Heder and didn’t like the idea of putting it off, but it made sense to keep going as they raced against the coming storm.

David and Carter convinced Jack to catch a helicopter ride to Middle Bass early in the afternoon, so he could debrief the island leadership, use their equipment to try to check in with Vicksburg and Utah, and help coordinate the arrival of the refugees from Indiana. They both wanted to keep Jack as busy as possible so he wouldn’t have time to dwell on Andi’s abduction or his son’s fatal condition.

David and Christy took the lead position and kept the fleet moving downstream, taking advantage of the current and their small motors to steadily cover dozens of miles of the meandering river as daylight rapidly faded in the bleak winter sky.

“Do you think Father O’Brien will be waiting in the bay with a bunch of yachts by the time we reach Toledo?” Christy mumbled through chapped lips and benumbed facial muscles.

“Somebody from the island might be there,” David replied, “but I doubt that it’ll be our priest. I heard that O’Brien and Brittany had led a team from Middle Bass north to meet with some survivors from a big Canadian settlement.”

“I know,” Christy declared, “I’m the one who told you. And I’m counting on him being there with my cousin Michael, from Canada.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” David cautioned. “You’ve got about a one in a million chance on that.” He changed the subject, “How far you think we are from Toledo?”

“Forty miles, give or take a few. We should be in the bay by midnight, and cuddled in some bunks on Middle Bass by morning.”

David shivered. “I just can’t get used to the cold. I mean, I know I’ve lived a soft life and all, but I can remember some Thanksgivings that were like, sixty degrees outside.”

“The Utah weather guys were right, global temperatures have dropped. The really bad news is that we don’t actually know what the result of that drop will be this winter.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, just look at this river; a few more weeks and it’ll be frozen solid. If we do get back to Fort Wayne before spring, we’re gonna need a different evacuation plan.”

“Oh, no,” David groaned.

“What?”

“Christy, this river kept us safe in Fort Wayne. Sooner or later the hunters will figure out that they can cross the ice.”

Christy pushed her hair out of her face and looked at David with a stricken expression. “Has anyone thought about the waters icing over during this super-winter we’re supposed to have? Will the Ohio freeze up? What about all the river settlements down there?”

David slowly shook his head. “I don’t know, babe, I just don’t know. Everyone’s been so busy just surviving day to day; I have no idea if anyone’s considered the impact of frozen rivers.”

Christy voice went up in alarm, “What about Lake Erie?”

“You grew up in Cleveland; you tell me about Lake Erie.”

“Seems like it used to freeze over a lot more when I was a kid,” she explained cautiously. “And even when it is frozen, there’s still open water in some places.”

David nodded. “We’ll have to assume that Erie’s gonna freeze over this winter; we’ll probably have to deal with some hunter packs coming out onto the ice in search of food.”

“I’m not worried about a few packs,” Christy warned. “It’s that son-of-a-bitch Barnes who has me worried.”

On Middle Bass Island, Brittany and Roberto were answering questions about the Canadians. First, they’d been briefed about the attack on Fort Wayne and the subsequent evacuation of the populace that had resulted in several helicopter deliveries of sick and injured civilians to the island. They were told that the bulk of refugees were expected to arrive in less than twenty-four hours. They’d spent the next two hours giving a detailed report about their experiences in Sarnia. Roberto was tired of answering questions, and he was about to propose that they take a break when a guard ran into the facility and shouted that the chopper approaching from the southwest was carrying Jack Smith. The now-legendary fighter and leader had never been to the island, but his younger brother, David, was viewed as something close to the savior of the community on Middle Bass. By the time the aircraft touched down, Brittany, Roberto, and several local leaders were standing out in the cold with the medical personnel who’d greeted every landing helicopter, waiting to meet the man they’d heard so much about.

A tall, armored, hard-eyed soldier who bore resemblance to David was the first to exit the helicopter as the rotors slowed, but instead of walking over to introduce himself, he motioned for assistance as he opened the bay door. Brittany was the first to reach Jack’s side, arriving in time to help him lower a damp, shivering, elderly woman to the ground. A quick look inside the chopper revealed ten more older people in similar condition, and one teen nursing what appeared to be a broken arm. Within five minutes, all the suffering evacuees had been whisked away and were being treated at the islanders make-shift medical clinic. Jack was escorted to the community center, where he quickly explained to a packed conference room everything he knew about the attack on Fort Wayne and the progress of the evacuation.

“That’s basically it,” he finished up. “We need you to find some type of shelter for five hundred people, and provisions for two weeks. We’ll replace anything we use, and figure out a plan for winter without dragging you down with us.”

Brittany was cold, tired, and indifferent to the island’s established chain-of-command. “Hey,” she stated loudly so everyone could hear, “we’re all in this together. I owe David and his people everything, my life, my little sister’s life. This entire settlement wouldn’t have survived without his help. You can stay here for the winter and not give it a second thought. We’ve been accumulating supplies from the mainland for more than three months; we’ve always been your backup location.”

Jack noticed that several other islanders didn’t appear to share Brittany’s opinion on hosting hundreds of hungry refugees, but everything she said was true. David’s group had saved her life, and that of her sister, before teaching the islanders everything they knew about the outbreak and fighting the infected. The survivors on Middle Bass had been scattered and hiding when David arrived. By the time he left, the island was clear of flesh-eaters, and the people knew that the world had collapsed. They’d understood that their survival would depend on how hard and smart they worked, as well as the alliances they forged. Father O’Brien had stayed behind to help guide the fledgling community, and under his tutelage they’d grown and prospered. Now, the time had come to repay their debt. If some of the islanders didn’t quite grasp that fact, Brittany sure did.

What Jack didn’t know was that all of the fighters on Middle Bass respected and admired Brittany, and they practically worshipped Father O’Brien. Brittany herself wasn’t aware of the influence she wielded in her community, but after she spoke a few members of the leadership council made it clear to everyone present that General Smith and the refugees from Indiana could count on the islanders’ unwavering support, no matter what they needed. The wise council members understood that, in this world, the character of your allies was a matter of life and death, and the Hoosiers were the best friends Middle Bass had left.

By the time Zach returned from his foraging, with Maddy by his side and a backpack full of steaks, Luke was gently snoring. He’d eagerly consumed two large plates of chicken, asked for an update about what was happening in Fort Wayne, and told Gracie he loved her at least a dozen times. About five minutes after he’d finished off the second plate of meat, he started having trouble keeping his eyes open. Gracie had told him to get some rest, and he’d dozed off almost instantly.  Gracie had crawled in to bed with him and fallen asleep with her head on his chest.

“How is he?” Maddy asked warily. “Zach says he’s . . . different.”

“Was he always a blathering romantic, all mushy and lovey-dovey?” Charlotte asked.

Maddy looked confused. “No . . .”

“Then he’s different,” Charlotte stated firmly. “And he has one heck of an appetite.”

Zach studied Gracie and Luke for a minute before asking, “Do you think she’s safe laying there with him?”

Gracie opened one eye. “Don’t be stupid,” she whispered. She nuzzled Luke’s chest before sitting up and stretching. “What are you really worried about, Zach?”

Maddy answered for him, “We’re both concerned that he could still slip away from us. Nothing like this has ever happened before, and we don’t know that he’s out of the woods yet.”

“I know he is.” Gracie stood up, and Luke mumbled and shifted position under the covers.

Charlotte flopped on the couch and put her feet up. “If Zach and Maddy are worried, I bet a lot of people are going to feel the same way. I know that everyone was talking like they thought Luke could beat this thing, but I don’t think anybody really believed it would happen.”

Gracie had an idea. “Maddy or Charlotte, General Carlson and his troops were the ones who swore that a few westerners had survived bites through the treatment we gave Luke right after he was bitten; would one of you go find him and get him over here?” Before Zach could offer to make the trip, Gracie continued, “Zach, I want to make sure you get some sleep, and I want you here to talk to Luke as soon as he wakes up. I’m making you our official bodyguard.”