“He can fucking well see them through walls, that is mighty goddamned useful if you ask me.”
Draper held up one large ebony hand in a placating manner, “Simmer down mama bear, that is a useful ability, I did not say he was useless. Look at it like this, I would love to have him, and you, covering my back in any fight with the infected. As a small unit asset you are both worth having around. But we are going to try and pick a single entity out of an entire city. One guy out of a huge city and your Max can only see about a mile away and can't tell us whether any of them are real threats. Do you know how many square miles Chicago is?”
“I get that, yes, but I thought you people had intelligence that indicated their leader was there?”
“No. From what I know, which might not be everything, we are just believing in what your friend says, taking it on faith. We do know that two huge groups and several smaller ones are taking up position around the state. We know that some groups have arrived on the edge of the line and are just sitting there. That means someone or something is coordinating them. I think they are waiting for the rest of their friends to close in, specifically those to the west.”
“So why did the military send you to do this?”
“There are too many of them and if they all attack at the same time we won't survive, even if my single platoon of men were there to help. This is a small risk for possibly a big gain.”
“You know, I have another question.”
“Shoot.” prompted Draper.
“Why don't you just nuke the place? You nuked Denver, why not Chicago?”
Draper looked out the window for a long time, then back to Stewart, “Those assets are no longer available.”
“Really? The zombies got to our entire nuclear supply that quickly?” Stewart's voice carried a bit of mocking sarcasm with it.
“Why do you think they would tell me?”
“I think you know something.”
He looked at her and nodded his head slightly, “Only rumor.”
“You know Draper, Leroy if I may, I have been out in this for a few days now. I have an idea of what we are going into, I've spent the better part of the last two weeks getting out of it. You and me are realists, even Max is, if push came to shove. We three, of everyone here, probably know this is a one way mission. So is it really going to kill you to give me the reason why we are going instead of dropping bombs on Chicago until it glows?”
He hesitated only a moment, then answered, “Alright, I won't make you fish for information anymore. We lost Norad. One minute we are talking to them, the next, nothing. That is what I heard.”
“So?”
“They held the key to communicating with our nuclear weapons.”
Stewart shook her head in disbelief, “No, I don't buy it, there has to be another way to coordinate an attack.”
“There is. I mean there were, in Washington at the pentagon. And outside of Washington, to the southwest. We lost contact with those areas three days after the outbreak.”
“You have got be fucking kidding me. So what do the people sitting on the nukes do?”
“They keep sitting on them, waiting for communication. We do have access to our nuclear subs, they are coming home, but they wouldn't make it in time to help with this. The one sub close by was undergoing retrofit and was overrun when the shipyard was lost. The bombs on that one had been offloaded anyway.”
“Jeezus we really are fucked.”
“I couldn't say for sure.” Draper said.
“I can. How come we weren't told any of this?”
“Need to know basis. Technically I didn't need to know, but I found out part of the story, I know I don't have all the information. The only part that is official is that nuclear bombs are off the table for use in this operation. The rest is scuttlebutt.”
“Scuttlebutt?”
“Rumor.”
“But you think it is true?”
Draper nodded again. “Yes. We do have assets in Chicago, those helicopters I mentioned? They were dropping sniper and forward observer teams in to call down fire on targets of opportunity.”
“Yesterday?”
“Yes.”
“Are any of them still alive?” asked Stewart.
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“One team.”
Stewart laughed and said dryly, “That will be a huge help, I am sure.”
“Don't count them out, they can call down artillery and missiles if they can work their way into a position to help us. And, before you ask, they are close to the train station we are supposed to arrive at.”
The pounding on the train grew louder and Stewart and Draper looked out the side window at the massed bodies being tossed aside like rag dolls. With a concerned look on her face Stewart turned towards the front to see a tight pressed mob of zombies extending the length of a football field ahead of them. Small arms fire rang out and she stared with disbelief at the holes that seemed to appear by magic in the front window of the train. Even as she watched the line of bullet holes working their way towards her she threw herself down to the floor. Draper made it there the same time as her and reached over to pull the feet out of the engineer who was closest to him. Max dropped to the floor only a microsecond after Stewart, but the engineer who was controlling the train was not so fortunate, he screamed as he was thrown backwards by a bullet to his chest. The bullet did not appear to be from a mere handgun or even a rifle, it was a heavy machine gun round that flew through the safety glass and the man behind it with so little effort that it continued through the metal wall at the rear of the cab. The wounded man screamed and leaked blood next to Max, who propped himself up enough to hold his hand over the wounded man's chest. Draper crawled forward and looked at the man on the ground, who had his eyes shut tight against the pain and was flailing around with his hands and legs.
“We need bandages!” Max said.
Draper looked at Max, until the other man met his gaze, then he slowly shook his head from side to side. Max seemed to take in the greater picture then, pulling back slightly to look at the injured man, as he watched the engineer's flailing arms and legs stopped moving, then he pulled in one last gasp of breath before going still.
“A man doesn't get minor wounds with a gun that size. A lucky shot would take off an arm or a leg, anywhere else and you are just dead.”
No more machine gun bullets were hitting the cab and even with the noise of the engine they could not hear any more guns firing.
Draper turned to the other engineer and said “Check it, see if anything is not working.”
The man seemed hesitant to get up, crouching only enough to see the instrument panel and the video feeds from cameras mounted around the train.
“It looks like we got lucky, everything is running okay. We lost the front track camera, but probably that was from when we hit all the zombies.”
Draper stood up and looked around, the train was still plowing down zombies on the tracks, but the crowd had lessened significantly. He spoke into his radio, “Who took out that gun?”
A series of negatives came back from the soldiers on the cars behind them, until Max heard Bill's voice on the line, “Uh, I think I might have gotten it. Was it the one on the right?”
Draper turned to stare out of one of the smaller windows looking backwards at Bill, who was less than fifteen feet away on the armored tanker. Bill saw him and when Draper waved he waved back.
“Thanks sergeant 'Lucky', that was good work. Any causalities?”
A series of negatives came back to Draper and he ended the conversation with a warning to watch for zombies that might have crawled onto the train.
The men on each train car responded back to Draper that there were no zombies on board. Max could tell that the area ahead was clear of zombies and Draper gave a slight nod, however he still kept his eyes on the rails in front of them.
