Eventually Randy finished his conversation and turned to look down on her from on top of the desk. “We're fucked.” he said, sitting down and hanging his feet over the edge. Lowering his head into his hands he put his face down and sat quietly for a few minutes. It took Katie several seconds to realize he was crying.
“That bad?” she asked, they had never seen each other display any emotion other than passion, anger or exuberance, this was a new step in their relationship.
He looked up, eyes watery and wiped one sleeve across his face, holding it there for a moment as he fought to regain his composure. “We are staying overnight. They are sending a group by fucking train in tomorrow morning. We are supposed to assist them in any way we can and then bug out when they do.”
“That…that's great!”
He shook his head, “Oh baby…no it isn't. They are here to kill the smartest zombie in the bunch. And they won't leave until he is dead.”
“So? I can do that from half a klick away, we don't even have to get close.” Katie stopped for a moment looking at Randy, who stared back at her. “Uh, Randy?”
“Yeah?”
“How will we know who the smartest one is?”
“They got a guy…”
Chapter 33
The train reached the Illinois border at sunrise, the rail road bridge was held by the national guard and barricaded with a bus they had simply driven over the tracks and shored up with sandbags and pieces of wood. The troops had word by radio when to expect the train and waited as long as they could to move the barricades because the zombies were actively trying to cross the bridge. When the zombies saw the barricade had been driven aside, they rushed forward, led by several faster 'super' zombies. The bridge was shrouded in a light fog that lifted and fell on the river breeze. As they approached the bridge the train didn't slow. Max was in the cab and watched as they plowed into the mob on the bridge that were trying to cross into Iowa. Most of the zombies did not jump out of the way and the train engineer had to be told to keep moving and not to slow down, which went against his instincts.
The crowd of zombies consisted of all races, sizes and sexes, they didn't seem to be actively moving forward anywhere except on the railroad bridge. The train burrowed through the mass leaving writhing pieces of zombies behind it soaked in their foul black blood. One huge fat zombie was bisected and managed to pull his torso up onto the train and almost reach the guardrail before he was shot multiple times by one of Bill's men. More zombies piled onto the tracks, their sheer numbers thrust them to a height halfway up in front of the engine, most were crushed sideways, with a few getting ran over and torn apart under the moving train. As the engine made its way off of the bridge the congestion got only worse. Zombies were tossed up into the air to both sides of the tracks, like a wake left by a speedboat churning through a pond. Max saw one head, sans body, go flying by with its mouth still opening and closing. The pressure of the train was creating a bubbly wave ahead of itself as the tightly packed zombies were pressed backwards.
“Are we going to be able to get through them?” Max asked, breaking off his conversation with Stewart, which was a debate on whether she should wear her bullet proof vest or not.
Colonel Draper looked questioningly to the engineer, who was sweating despite the cool air, “Well, yeah as long as they didn't put anything big on the tracks. A body can't stop the train. A hundred bodies can't stop it. There is too much mass in this baby.”
“Could a thousand?” asked Max concentrating.
“A thousand?” laughed the engineer, “You must be joke…” his voice choked off as the wispy fog on the river lifted enough for them to see clearly to the far bank. “Oh God!”
Draper leaned close and said, “Go faster.”
The engineer made some adjustments, but the train did not seem to move any faster to Max. “How many do you feel up ahead Max?” asked Draper.
“Thousands. But only about a quarter mile deep, after that it seems to clear out.”
“Anyone we should be concerned about?”
Max just looked at him for a moment and then said, “Probably. I think there are a lot of super zombie mixed in with them. I am worried.”
“If you are worried I am too.” said Draper, pulling his radio out of his pocket he moved to the other side of the cab and began issuing orders to the troops. He ended his call by speaking with one of his superiors about air support.
Stewart was closer to Draper than to Max and the commotion had awakened her from where she had been dozing near one of the windows. “Air support? That is good, we've seen what they can do.”
Draper frowned, “Don't get your hopes up, the army sent a bunch of helicopters into Chicago yesterday morning and nine of the ten didn't come back, three managed to report that they were coming under anti aircraft missile fire from the batteries around Chicago before they were shot down. The one lucky guy who made it only saw the smoke from the wrecks. I don't think we can count on much air support for this mission.”
“I'm kind of surprised the army didn't send in special forces to take out the anti air battery.” said Stewart, to which Draper just smiled and looked out the window.
“Oh.” she said.
“Your boy Max,” Draper spoke in a low voice, close in to Stewart's ear, “he isn't much use really, is he?”
Stewart's temper rose, but she forced herself to evaluate the question from Draper's perspective, “What do you mean?”
“He can tell there are groups of undead around, but not what they are carrying or what their intent is.”
“He can fucking well see them through walls, that is mighty goddamned useful if you ask me.”
Draper held up one large ebony hand in a placating manner, “Simmer down mama bear, that is a useful ability, I did not say he was useless. Look at it like this, I would love to have him, and you, covering my back in any fight with the infected. As a small unit asset you are both worth having around. But we are going to try and pick a single entity out of an entire city. One guy out of a huge city and your Max can only see about a mile away and can't tell us whether any of them are real threats. Do you know how many square miles Chicago is?”
“I get that, yes, but I thought you people had intelligence that indicated their leader was there?”
“No. From what I know, which might not be everything, we are just believing in what your friend says, taking it on faith. We do know that two huge groups and several smaller ones are taking up position around the state. We know that some groups have arrived on the edge of the line and are just sitting there. That means someone or something is coordinating them. I think they are waiting for the rest of their friends to close in, specifically those to the west.”
“So why did the military send you to do this?”
“There are too many of them and if they all attack at the same time we won't survive, even if my single platoon of men were there to help. This is a small risk for possibly a big gain.”
“You know, I have another question.”
“Shoot.” prompted Draper.
“Why don't you just nuke the place? You nuked Denver, why not Chicago?”