AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The toughest part was convincing Patel to leave the train with a squad of men to guide the hundreds of refugees into the hills.
"Do I have to make it an order, Sergeant Major?" Valentine asked. Valentine hated to fall back on rank.
"It'll come to a fight when they catch up to you, sir. The men will need me."
"I know the job now. I was lucky as a junior lieutenant. My captain put me with his best sergeant on my first operation in the Kurian Zone."
Patel relented and walked around to the remaining NCOs, giving tips and hurrying up the loading of the livestock.
"Give 'em hell, billy goat legion," Patel said as he walked off with the crowds from the boxcars and into a hillside defile on the far side of the river. Patel wanted to put at least a ridge between the tracks and the lifesign he was giving off before nightfall.
David Valentine watched them go, silently wishing them luck.
The animals he'd purchased but couldn't fit into the train, he left behind to muddle the tracks. They'd fuzz up the Reaper's sensing abilities for a few moments, anway. The smell of goats reminded him of his induction into the Wolves. Valentine wondered what he'd say if he could have a talk with that kid he'd been.
He thought of a young couple he'd noticed, clinging to each other in doubt as they looked back at the boxcars as Patel led them into the defile. How did they get selected for harvesting?
Sterile? Passing out anti-Kurian pamphlets printed in some basement? The woman had mouthed "thank you" at him. That goat-sniffing kid would have written Father Max a long letter about those two words.
"It's worth it," Valentine muttered.
Valentine still had a few refugees: the old unable to make a long walk, the sick, and a few devoted souls who stayed behind to tend to them. He gave them a boxcar of their own just in front of the caboose.
Then they pulled across the bridge and dynamited the center span in a frosty twilight.
Valentine didn't hear any cheers as ties spun like blown dandelion tufts into the river. He had too many engineers in the attenuated company who'd sweated over the calculations and effort required to build a bridge.
The train squealed into motion again. Now the clatter of the wheels passing over points was accompanied by the bleating of goats and bawling of sheep.
Now the question was whether they'd make enough of a lifesign signal to draw the Reapers. He had what was left of his company, plus the refugees, plus whatever signal the sheep and goats would send.
He sent another message to Seng, reporting the destruction of the bridge.
"Scouts confirm you are being pursued. Two trains out of Lexington. The rear is heavily armored with engines at either end. Coming your way. Over," headquarters reported.
"A Big Boy might be managing the pursuit. Over."
"GC will attend to it," Seng's headquarters replied. "Instructions on the way. Over and out."
Valentine slowed their progress to a crawl, both to check for track obstructions and so they could easily see a messenger. He smelled roasting goat in the refugee car-with tarragon and cumin, it seemed. The resourcefulness of soldiers in feeding themselves still found ways to amaze him.
A mile later the intercom crackled. "Stopping. Rock slide."
Valentine swung off the caboose and took a look. His Cat-sharp eyes made it plain. That ended it. Piles of sulfur-colored limestone had ended the chase. This was no tree that could be sawn and rolled, or blown. The rock slide would take his entire company working with beams, chains, and the train engine to clear.
At least half a day, working in daylight.
The door in the next car opened. Valentine caught a whiff of the improvised charcoal brazier they had set up under an air vent. Glass and the Grogs were eating chunks of goat meat toasted on skewers made from bedsprings. Other members of the company dismounted from the train to take a look at the rock slide. Everyone shook their heads.
It was a tight little corner of Kentucky, Valentine decided, looking at the steep hillsides to either side, the braaak of complaining sheep and goats from the railcars magnified by the cut.
They'd come at least ten miles. Horsemen or cyclists would be strung out, keeping up with the Reapers. Would whoever was puppeting the Reapers risk them? Valentine wondered if there was a finders-keepers policy for the rail security Kurian.
The hills around this cut would allow his troops to set up murderous cross fire. There'd be no danger of the men hitting each other; they'd be shooting down.
There was a slight upward slope to the rail line. Valentine thought of the wild cart ride he'd taken down Little Timber hill.
"Set up company headquarters back in that rock pile," he told Ediyak and Preville. "Try to make contact with the brigade."
