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"Yes, sir."
Valentine felt something tickling at the back of his scalp. He decided it was his imagination, fretting at the dark and the delay, with Seng still miles away. He put some men to work making stretchers from the rickety beds in the boxcars.
He posted Glass and the two Grogs in the rocks above at the source of the fall, having him take some illumination flares. The .50 would have a nice look down the cut from that point, and they could make a quick retreat over the ridgeline.
He put Rutherford and DuSable on the other hill, just above the caboose, with a machine gun taken from one of the train's mounts. He made sure they had pistols with Quickwood magazines loaded and ready.
Valentine posted himself with the majority of the platoon around the caboose. The cupola gun in the engine could cover a quick fallback and serve as a rally point in the rock pile.
Valentine posted Crow at the coupling between the engine and the boxcars.
He walked from position to position, checking the men, checking that nagging itch at the back of his neck that was turning into a doubt, stiffening the hairs there. He told Bee to stay in the caboose. She'd be an unpleasant surprise to any Reaper who clawed his way in.
There were Reapers somewhere off to the west. Or maybe it was the Kurian, reaching out with his senses, searching for his quarry.
Valentine heard a sudden burst of voices from company headquarters. He saw a flash of messy, knife-cut hair in the dim light from the LED bulbs lighting up the radio log.
Duvalier?
He clambered up the rocks, saw Duvalier putting away her sword into the walking-staff holder. He smelled sweat, rubber, and lubricating oil on her.
Ediyak's mouth was opening and shutting like a landed fish, and Preville trembled like his heart had been jump-started.
"Sorry, guys, had to make sure. Where's your major?"
"Right here," Valentine said, stepping across a rock.
She sat down on a rock and rubbed her thighs. "Three hours on a bicycle bumping along a railroad. The things my poor body does for you."
"That's it. I'm shooting for senior rank," Preville said to Ediyak, sotto voce.
Valentine offered his canteen and Duvalier cleared her mouth out, then drank.
"I wish we could have saved you a few miles. These rocks prevented it," Valentine said.
Duvalier unwrapped a piece of dried legworm jerky and took a bite. "Seng's got half the brigade on the way. The Bears and what Wolves he has left are on their way to the bridge you dynamited, along with some of the legworm troops. Karas gave another whoop-'em-up speech and sent them off hollering. There's a big file of legworms following this track too. They're tearing a bunch of new holes in their mounts, prodding them at speed."
"Any orders for me?"
"Just to let them know if you found some good ground for an ambush."
Valentine let himself soar a little. Seng saw an opportunity to sting the Kurians good and was grasping for the rose and not minding the nettles. Even if it drew lots of troops into this part of Kentucky, he'd be across another line of mountains by the time they could organize themselves.
"Can you help me here?" Valentine asked.
"Sure. Want me to brew up some of this Kentucky hickory nut coffee? Not like those cafes in the French Quarter, but it's hot."
Valentine smiled. "Not that easy. The Reapers could be here any time. I'd really like another trained Hunter up with my men. You could jam yourself between a couple of boxcars, wait for a chance to make a move."
"Me? I'm a heroic kinda fighter, Val. When bullets start to fly I prefer to head the other direction."
Valentine touched her on the shoulder. "I know. Just this once. Please, AH."
She looked off down the tracks and into the Kentucky night. "No, Val. I don't like the odds.
Multiple Reapers, at night?"
Duvalier at least had the sense to refuse quietly. At most, Preville and Ediyak heard her.
