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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."
"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.
