had been through.
“Getting across the bridge was a piece of cake, the military had it cleared. There were bodies by the hundreds on the sides of the road, but the soldiers had a snowplow and whenever the road had filled with bodies they just plowed them off to the sides. The road was pock marked with bullet holes from the cannon on the helicopter, but it wasn't so bad. It smelled like death and rotted bodies, but you know, I am used to that. No one recognized me when I passed through and I didn't know any of them. They gave me directions on where to go to park the car for the night, but after I made it through the physical inspection I just headed south of the airport like we agreed. I found the park and boat ramp that we talked about this afternoon and pretty much just waited until you got there. I think I ate as much chicken as I left you two, so don't save any for me.”
Max and Stewart finished the chicken off in record time, having something other than candy or granola bars was a treat for them. Less than an hour later they came to the main east-west highway that ran through Iowa, interstate eighty. There was a check point set up there, manned by a couple young, nervous looking soldiers. Bill rolled down his window as they drove up.
“Evening. Is the road clear through to Des Moines?” he asked one of the youths.
“Uh, yeah, but you aren't supposed to be driving at night. What are you doing out here?”
“Oh some soldier guy, I don't know the ranks too well, a Lieutenant maybe? He told me to come this way to get to Des Moines. I am supposed to get there tonight. He told me I might get stopped and to let you guys look us over if you wanted to.”
The young man nervously looked at his friend, there was not an officer or superior in sight. He took out a flashlight and looked each of them over. They did not offer to get out of the car, but sat there waiting. Finally the young man said, “You're supposed to go to Des Moines?”
“Yeah tonight.”
“And a lieutenant told you to?”
“I guess; He seemed like someone important anyway. He said we have to go to a processing center or something that got set up there for refugees.”
“You guys see any zombies?”
“Not since Sioux City, no. We came over the bridge there. They cleared us to get into Iowa, told us to go to the processing center in Des Moines. What will they do with us there? The officer wasn't too clear on that.”
“Uh, I don't know. Not sure. I was just told no one should be on the road tonight, except the military.”
“Whoa, you think they will put us into the military there?”
“I don't know, I…uh..”
“Christ! I knew it Jim! They are just going to draft us up there, put us in units instead of just letting us keep killing zombies on our own!” Max nodded and scowled, playing the role of 'Jim'.
“I didn't say that.”
“What about her? Is my woman going to be drafted too?”
“I don't know…”
“Well shit that just takes all, we were perfectly content to fight from here, right now. We don't need any special training to kill zombies! You hear me? Are there other soldiers down this way?”
“If you follow the road into Council Bluffs, yes sir. But I don't know what is out east.”
“Well I better just go see those guys in Council Bluffs then, we don't need to go all the way to Des Moines for processing, no matter what some captain said.”
The boy nodded and swallowed. “Maybe you should just do what you were told, just to be safe?”
“You sure? I don't think we need training.”
“Well there is other stuff involved, how to use the equipment, and the guns are bigger too. They pack quite a punch.”
“Shotguns? Or rifles?” Bill asked.
“Rifles mostly, some of them are old M-16s, but they work and the bullets take down the zombies real good.”
“If you are sure….”
“Yeah, yes sir, they work very good.”
“Well alright I guess we will do it your way then. But I better get a good rifle out of it. What is your name sir?” Bill asked.
“Clay Berber. That is Jake over there.”
“Okay I will tell them I want to be hooked up with you guys when I see them, 'cause you had the sense to keep me on the right path. Thanks Mister Berber!”
“No problem, have a good trip Sir!”
“I will and I will be back!”
With that Bill drove passed the two boys and took the highway east towards Des Moines.
“That was….I don't know. I mean I don't know what to say.” said Max.
“They were young, scared and used to people telling them what to do. Kids do what you want about ninety seven percent of the time if you make them think they came up with the idea to begin with.”
“Still, I am impressed too. What will you do if you meet an old veteran?” asked Stewart.
“Tell him…well hell if I know. We'll deal with that if we get to it.”
“That doesn't give me warm tingly feelings.” said Stewart.
“Well Jane I know from experience that the check points have been set up at the exits to the highway, chances are we won't run into another checkpoint until we change highways again.”
“We didn't exit here.” Max pointed out.
“We did, sort of, you just weren't paying attention. We exited highway twenty nine for the bypass, highway six eighty. We might have another checkpoint when we get on highway eighty, maybe. I guess we should be planning for that too. If you come up with a way to handle it better let me know.”
The three of them thought for awhile and decided to just let Bill handle it the best way he could, hopefully his gift of fast talking would see them through a few more checkpoints. Their worries were in vain, there was no checkpoint to get onto highway eighty, nor was there one to get onto highway thirty five south to Osceola an hour and a half later either.
By the time they pulled off at Osceola it was about ten o'clock. There was a checkpoint there but Bill just asked the one older solder how to get to the train station and the man waved him through, saying, “Just stay on highway thirty four and follow the signs. Ain't no one there.” The man, didn't even ask why they were going that way.
Bill followed the directions and they found the train station with no problem. It was deserted.
“You feeling anything Max?” asked Stewart.
“Just tired.”
“No, I meant do you 'see' anything with your zombie sense?”
“Oh.” Max concentrated a little, “Huh there are too many people here, I can't see any zombies. Just human, living people, I mean.”
“Anyone moving around?”
“No and no one near here either, no one at the station. Do you think that is the train?” Max asked, gesturing at the train sitting in front of them on the tracks, the engine was pulled up ahead of the main building and many of the cars were strung out behind the other side of it to the west.
“How many trains do you think they have?”
Max nodded, then said, “Fuck. That one is empty.”
“Well folks it won't hurt to get out and walk about a little.” said Bill.
The three of them hopped out of the car and walked up onto the platform, looking for some evidence that this was the train Max's kids had been on.
“What do you think they did with the others?” asked Max to Stewart.
Stewart shrugged noncommittally, “How should I know? They probably left them in the cell in O'Neill.”
“Nothing here.” said Bill. “I thought maybe there would be a monitor or something, like an airport, where we could see arrivals and stuff.”
“Well how do we find out where they took the kids?” Max asked.
They looked around and saw a bank of pay phones, Max went up to them and picked on up. “I got a dial
