Infinity's Reach (21 page)

I put it into overdrive and wound Kawasaki as high as she would go. Before I knew it the dirt bike was topping 80. The freeway stayed elevated for a long time, and I could see the train below me and about a quarter mile ahead. I was gaining on the train. I knew that once they got out of town, they would increase their speed, and so I knew that I had little time to catch it.

The battle with the drones continued. I had suspected that perhaps a dozen drones would be involved, but apparently the Coalition was using many more than that. The small aircraft were hard to hit, and since they were piloted remotely, were a lot more daring than manned craft would be. I heard rather than saw explosions behind me, and saw one or two out of the corner of my eye. But my attention remained focused forward.

Suddenly I realized that a section of the raised freeway had fallen, either from a previous attack or from lack of maintenance. The missing section was at a point where the freeway had started to descend to street level. The gap between the sections was about 50 feet across and I could see the ground far below me. Without thinking, I gunned the engine again and the Kawasaki flew across the gap.

It was one of those moments when you wonder if you’ve made the right decision, or one that would get you killed. And then you think, well, I’m in it now. I found myself flying through the air with the street forty feet below me. And then a second later, I hit the pavement on the other side. My bike wobbled a bit, but I steadied her and drove on, pumping my fist in the air.

A row of houses came between me and the railroad tracks as I raced along the freeway. I prayed that the track continued to go straight and kept going forward. I watched block after block of brownstone houses pass me, waiting, waiting. And then the bike and I were past the houses, and the train was across from me.

Now the problem turned from
Can I catch the train?
to
How do I get on the train?
I kept abreast of the train, riding at the same speed of the train, surveying both the train and the terrain that surrounded it.

Finally I came up with a solution. I passed row after row of boxcars and passenger cars, but then there were three flatcars on which something—either artillery or a vehicle—were being carried, covered with a tarp. I decided to find a way to leap onto the flatcar and pancake the motorcycle. I might be scratched up a lot, and there was always the danger that I would miss, but I was determined to make it onto the train.

My opportunity came a few minutes later. The track started through some small rolling hills. I saw the track go past a small hill, gunned the bike and roared up the hill, leaping through the air and onto the flatcar I’d chosen.

What I didn’t plan on was that two soldiers were stationed on the car. When I roared out of nowhere and landed on the car, using the tarp cover to slow my landing, the two young soldiers jumped up, rifles in hand, sure that they were being attacked by the Coalition.

Kawasaki slid across the wooden top of the flatcar, sliding into the tarp, my body halfway following the bike and halfway under it. The engine was still running when I slid to a stop and I shut it off, looking up at two soldiers who held their rifles pointed at me.

“Relax,” I said, as startled as they were. “I’m one of the good guys.”
  
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26. SUSPICIONS

EVANGELIST: WEST OF OKLAHOMA CITY: DAY 1585

When I realized that Pilgrim was no longer with me, my first inclination was to contact whoever was in charge and tell them to stop the train. But that was my emotional side talking, and I hadn’t let my emotions take over in a long time. In fact, when the helicopter fell, signaling the beginning of all this mess, I vowed to suppress my personal feelings. There was a time for one to get caught up in personal emotions, but this wasn’t it.

That inclination lasted less than a minute. By the time I had gotten myself inside the train, gotten past the guards—who were dismayed that I had boarded without their say-so—I realized my first responsibility lay in contacting the person in charge.

I barked out orders and the new recruits jumped to attention. I didn’t have a uniform, and had no rank, but had learned to throw my weight around a time or two. It took all of ten minutes for us to find Major Benson, a quiet woman who was in charge of the train. She was in a passenger car with a dozen other officers.

“Major Benson, I am Secret Service Agent Edward James,” I told her, flashing my badge and showing her my written orders. “I apologize for joining your entourage without using the proper channels. But I am on a mission that calls for us to travel together, if it’s not too inconvenient.”

“Not at all,” she said, looking at my orders. “It says here that you are escorting a young woman. Where is she?”

“She didn’t make it,” I said, my face showing my disappointment. “She got left in Oklahoma City. I’m at a loss as to what to do next, I confess. But until I figure that out, I’m at your disposal. It’s imperative that Camp Zion get these supplies and weapons.”

“I understand,” she said. “And I accept your offer of assistance. I will let you know if there is anything you can do to help. In the meantime, feel free to join our officers here or the troopers in the next few cars.”

The two guards were dismissed and I decided to wander through the cars to see what kinds of soldiers were being sent to the front. I was hoping that the train would stop sometime in the next few hours, when I would get off and try to find Infinity. But I knew that was unlikely to happen, since every stop would be another opportunity for the Coalition to stop us.

I had wandered aimlessly through the cars for half an hour, trying to gather my wits and come up with a plan, when the major came bustling past me with two lieutenants. She looked at me and barked, “Come with me.”

I followed her to the next compartment. There, standing with two frightened soldiers holding their rifles pointed at her, was a badly scraped up Infinity Richards.

She grinned when she saw me, and started to break free to run to me, but the guards held her tightly.

“Is this whom you were escorting?” Major Benson asked me, her lips tight.

I nodded. “I’ll vouch for her, although I have no idea how she got on the train.”

“It wasn’t easy,” Infinity said under her breath.

Major Benson nodded to the two soldiers, and they let go of her. Benson then turned to me.

“Try not to lose her again, Agent James. And next time, check with me before you board.”

“Yes, Major,” I said seriously. As she passed by, I saw a gleam in her eye and I smiled, first at her, then at Infinity. Infinity strutted forward.

“You will tell me how you got on board, won’t you?” I said to her quietly.

“Be glad to. Someday soon,” she said, the smile then fading from her lips. “But in the meantime, I have some information for you.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“Not here,” she said, looking at the crowded compartment. She slipped past me and walked down the aisle to the doors of the compartment.

She slipped through and I followed her to an empty freight car. She turned to me. “I saw someone on board. Someone I don’t think belongs. His name is Damien Wiseman.”

“Who is he?” I asked. The name sounded vaguely familiar.

“He’s my old boyfriend from St. Eloise Academy,” she said. “I also think he’s the one behind the wanted posters and the campaign to have me captured.”

“Did he see you?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. He hasn’t seen me in four years. He hasn’t changed much, but I suspect I have. He was traveling with some other men, dressed like soldiers.”

“You think they are Coalition troops?”

She shrugged. “Don’t know. But when I saw him, I just felt weird. Like something was wrong.”

I frowned. “Paperwork has been a mess since The Event, and it’s easy to slip into units behind the scenes. Another example of the advantage the Coalition has over us.” I looked at Infinity. “Let’s go tell the major.”

“Wait,” she said. “That was my first inclination. But then why didn’t they just blow up the train? I think they may be trying to capture it whole.”

“That would be quite a feat with all the U.S. troops we have on it.”

“Think about it. All they have to do is block or destroy the track ahead of us, then lay in ambush for us. And if they have some of their own troops mixed in with ours, it’s that much easier. We won’t know if the person right next to us is an enemy or not.”

She was right. Trains were the fastest way to move large amounts of material, but they were also easy to ambush.

“In any case, we need to tell the major,” I said. “I know if I were in charge, I’d want to know.”

She agreed, and we walked back to the officers’ car, where Major Benson was going through paperwork. After she cleared the compartment, Infinity told her what she had seen and we shared our suspicions.

“Normally I would say that’s some mighty big concerns based on such flimsy evidence,” she said. “But we have known about Colonel Wiseman—the one they call Apollyon—for a while. Ex-history teacher turned traitor. And I knew he had a son who is now a captain.” She looked at me. “And you know him, eh?”

Infinity nodded, perhaps a little too self-consciously.

“Major, you need to know something,” I said finally, realizing that she was becoming suspicious of Infinity through association. “This is Infinity Richards, daughter of—.”

“So you’re The Secretary’s daughter?” she said. “Now I understand why the Agent was sweating back there when he left you behind.” She smiled.

“OK, so what do we do about this Damien fellow?”
  
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27. AMBUSH

INFINITY: EASTERN NEW MEXICO: DAY 1586

Major Benson had a handful of soldiers and officers that she had known for years and trusted implicitly. After she had called them into the officers’ car and briefed them on her suspicions, it was all agreed that the best course of action was to allow the ambush to happen and yet be prepared. The twenty or so men and I were scattered through the passenger cars, fully aware that we might be sitting next to an enemy, and armed to the teeth and ready to fight.

The ambush happened in the high desert east of Albuquerque, New Mexico. The train was weaving its way through the mountains in the early morning hours when it came to a stop. I looked at Evangelist, who sat several rows across from me, and we shared a look of concern.
It was time
.

We sat there for a long while, perhaps fifteen minutes, without anyone saying anything. Finally, I felt the train shudder and the engines shut off. A moment later, one of the railroad engineers came through the compartment.

“We’ve had an avalanche outside one of the tunnels ahead,” he announced. “It’s going to take an hour or two to clear it. If you want to stretch your legs, now would be a good time.”

I saw most of the soldiers stand and slowly make their way to the doors, but one or two were curled up with eyes closed. A sergeant that I recognized from the major’s select group came through and roused them awake.

“Hey,” he said. “Get up and get outside. Major’s orders. Get some fresh air while you can.”

“Sir, it’s cold out there,” one complained.

“Did I ask for your opinion? Up and at ‘em.” I rose and followed the rest of them out of the doors and into an open place on the north side of the tracks.

It was cold, even though it was August. We were at a high elevation, and I could see the stars clearly above me. Several hundred soldiers stood beside the track, stretching, griping and talking in the darkness. Suddenly they heard the ratcheting sound of a heavy machine gun being cocked.

“OK, hands up!” they heard shouted out of the darkness. “Drop your weapons.”

The men looked around them as if it were some joke. One of them, the sergeant I had seen before, started to step forward, and a bullet rang out. Several soldiers stepped forward, guns in hand. Most had not carried their weapons into the passenger compartment, with the exceptions of the officers, who were required to carry a firearm at all times. But about a dozen soldiers stepped forward fully armed. And I recognized one of them who was leading them. It was Damien.

“We have two 50-caliber machine guns pointed at you right now,” he said, a commanding voice coming from him that was different than I remembered. “It will take just seconds to kill you all. So don’t play the hero. You can die, or you can be good little boys and girls and do what we say, and no one gets hurt.”

In the dark, I saw the Coalition forces separate themselves from everyone else, choosing to stand on a rise of ground about 20 feet from the rest.

“Gather all of the officers and put them over here,” Damien said. “Where’s Major Benson?”

“Right here,” I heard above and behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see a line of 20 soldiers on top of the train. Major Benson and the others aimed automatic weapons at Damien and his group. Before anyone could say anything else, someone started shooting. And then everyone was shooting.