Worlds in Chaos (57 page)

“You must be a man uniquely gifted with persuasiveness, Landen,” Cavan said. His tone was low, not intended to carry. “Did you ever think of yourself as charismatic? It isn’t a quality that I’d normally associate with my image of engineers.” It was mid morning of the second day. The country to the north was dotted with fires fanned by fierce winds. Draperies of oily flame still descended from a heaving sky. Cavan was wearing Army pants and a sweater with a scarlet neckerchief knotted at the throat. The incredible thing was that he looked younger and more vibrant than Keene had seen him for years.

“What are you talking about?” Keene asked.

Cavan raised a hand vaguely. “Look at all the people you have following you to help you find this woman of yours.”

Keene snorted. “Ah, come on. It’s the only chance they’ve got to get out of this to something better, Leo. That’s the reason, and you know it.”

“I’m not so sure that Alicia would agree that’s the only reason.”

“Well, she doesn’t count. She’s crazy. You’ve told me enough times.”

Cavan lowered his voice further. “But not crazy enough to think you could do it alone, without the military to help. That’s why they’re here, you know. She can be quite an engineer of things too, in her own way.”

“Oh?” Keene knew what Cavan meant but chose to act dumb, letting his frown ask the question.

“She bewitched Mitch into it, and the others followed. He’s a compulsive performer in front of any woman that happens to be around. Don’t tell me you hadn’t noticed, Landen.”

Of course Keene had. It just wasn’t the kind of thing to go making uninvited comments on. “Well . . . I suppose it’s not something I really thought about,” he replied. He studied Cavan’s face for a moment. “Why? It’s not bothering you, is it, Leo? If she did, it’s as you say: to get some backup for me. Unless my judgment of people has gone to hell in the last week, there’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Oh God, I’ve been around too many years for that. She could do worse. He’s got nerve, he’s dependable, and he commands loyalty. If she had any sense, she’d have found herself someone like that years ago.”

Keene managed a wisp of a smile. “Well, there you are, Leo. Who’s got the charisma now?”

“Charitable of you, I grant, but where would be the future? Back in the days when there was a future, I mean.”

Keene looked at him reproachfully. “Don’t tell me you’ve given up hope.”

“Seriously, what do you think the chances are?”

Keene stared down at his hands. They were blistered and split from all the digging and shoveling that he wasn’t used to. He looked up. “If we’d had a clear run through with the Rustler, I’d have said pretty good. But with the way things have gone instead . . . who knows? Maybe Furle was right. What else can I tell you?”

After a long wait near Uvdale for a damaged bridge to be shored up, they were held in a siding to let a loaded train from San Antonio through the other way, heading for El Paso. They reached San Antonio late that night to find the city in flames. A shrieking wind turned the buildings into torches, lighting up the overcast for miles. Spitting trails of burning naphtha left veils of smoke curling downward between the cloud blanket and the ground. The scout train had stopped a couple of hundred feet ahead. Two of its officers came back to confer with the commander on the wisdom of taking the main train any farther in until the route had been reconnoitered. The decision was to hold it back until more was known. Keene and his party transferred their kit to the lead train to go into San Antonio with it and explore what further options existed from there.

46

The railroad yard and its surroundings were an inferno of burning rolling stock and warehouses. There appeared to be no organized effort to fight or contain the conflagration. It was past being containable in any case, and from the look of things any focus of authority capable of organizing anything had ceased to exist; very likely, there wasn’t enough water available, anyway.

Many people had headed for the open ground along the tracks and were trying to follow that route out of town. A crowd closed around the train as it slowed to a halt, their eyes wide against streaked, smoke-blackened faces, some wailing uncontrollably, obviously aiming to get aboard and stay there till the train departed. The soldiers accepted the injured, laying them out among the sandbags and what materiel remained on the flatcars, while the officers did their best to control the numbers trying to follow. A woman tore at Keene and Colby’s jackets as they climbed down. Her face was a mass of sores and blisters in the light from the fires; her hair looked charred. “
My husband! He’s trapped . . . over that way. You have to help me get to him!
” Colby disengaged himself, not wanting to be brutal but needing to keep sight of the officer in charge, who was already striding ahead along the track with two of his aides. A couple of the guards drew the woman away. Keene hastened on after the others, raising an arm to his face to ward off the sparks and cinders being driven in the wind.

An effort was under way to salvage as much as possible of the stockpiled stores. Heavily muffled figures were manhandling crates out of a burning warehouse and stacking them beside the track while others played hoses over them. A forklift following waved directions came out through the doors at the end of the building and deposited a loaded pallet. After being pointed from one place to another, the officers from the train eventually found an Army colonel and a couple of railroad managers who were trying to keep the operation moving. As Keene and the others caught up, the gist of the exchange, shouted above the roaring of the wind and the sounds of cries and screams in the background, was that it would be too risky to bring the main train in until the fires had burned down. If the track was blocked the next morning, they would move what they could out to it by road. There was no shortage of trucks, since they had been bringing loads in to San Antonio for days—although how many of them might survive the fire was another matter. Meanwhile, they could make a start by using the scout train to take back what it could carry while the connection was still there.

Mitch, Keene, and Cavan exchanged glances at the mention of the trucks. While the officers from the train were organizing their men to begin loading, Mitch identified himself to the colonel and asked which way the trucks were. The colonel, who was clad in a water-doused firefighter’s smock, pointed farther ahead, beyond the blazing remains of some tank cars that had exploded. “There’s a whole bunch around the loading docks that way. A lot of the drivers quit here and went out on the train that left this morning.”

“Is there anywhere we can go to for gas?” Mitch asked.

“Like everything else—grab what you can.” The colonel shook his head uncomprehendingly. “You don’t
want
to go back to El Paso?”

Mitch shook his head. “We’re going on through.”

“Where to?”

“The coast, Corpus Christi.”

“What in the name of Christ for? There’s nothing left there.”

“Special mission. . . . So there’s nothing like any kind of train heading that way?”

“You’re out of your mind. I just said, there’s nothing left there. Mission? No kind of mission makes sense anymore. Put your men on this job instead, and you might stand a chance. Get sane.”

“Sorry. We have to give it a shot.”

The colonel shook his head hopelessly. There was nothing more to say. Mitch clapped him on the shoulder and moved on, waving for the others to follow. Dash and Birden stayed close behind him, Keene and Colby next, followed by Cavan and Alicia, Charlie and Cynthia. Legermount and Reynolds brought up the rear to prevent anyone from straggling. Even after everything, Keene was unable to avoid a stab of guilt as he looked back at the colonel and the others returning to their tasks.

The heat from the burning tank cars was too intense for them to pass, forcing them to detour behind a locomotive shed that seemed to have escaped major damage. A roadway flanked on one side by office and commercial buildings in various stages of burning and collapse led in the direction that the colonel had indicated. Survivors were still emerging from the side streets amid overturned autos with motionless forms inside or thrown nearby. More bodies lay scattered along the roadway. The sight no longer attracted attention.

The road ended in a large parking area outside the loading bays of warehouses serving an end of the rail yards that the scout train had been unable to get to. There must have been hundreds of trucks, lined in some semblance of order in some places, scattered haphazardly in others, many smashed or on fire. Not all had been unloaded, and in places groups of figures were braving the heat and the risk of exploding gas tanks to pass cartons and boxes down to others who were loading cars and other vehicles. Who were they? . . . Who could tell?

Mitch stopped beneath one of the high concrete lamp masts that was still standing. “The quickest way to get separated is if we all start running around without a system,” he yelled through the wind. “This is the reference point we’ll work from and use as base.” He looked at Charlie Hu, who was clutching his side and wheezing heavily. “Charlie, you’re not up to any more. Cynthia, stay with him. And Legermount, stay here too to keep an eye on them. The rest of us divide into twos: Lan, you can come with me; Leo, go with Birden; Alicia, stick with Dash; Reynolds, you take Colby. We’ll take a quadrant each, and when you find something to report, you head back
here
.” He pointed at the base of the mast. “In any case, check back after thirty minutes. We want a vehicle that’s intact, all wheels good, preferably with the keys. If you can, check for lights, battery, and gas. Flatbed trailers would be better. If this wind gets any worse, anything higher is gonna get blown off the road. Okay?”

“Assuming we find a road, that is,” Colby muttered in Keene’s ear as they split up.

Keene went with Mitch toward the west side. They passed the wreckage of several trucks and cars all entangled with another truck that looked as if it had landed on them, scraping them all into a heap. Beyond that were two more trucks almost burned out, several abandoned cars, and a truck that looked reasonably unscathed until walking around the front revealed the cab smashed in by a rock. The next two were in good shape; one had its keys in but wouldn’t start. A short distance farther on Mitch tried the cab of another, then reemerged, shaking his head. As they turned away, they saw watching them two men who had been draining fuel from the tank of a tractor unit minus trailer. They looked apprehensively at Mitch and Keene’s military garb and the automatic rifle that Mitch was carrying.

“It’s okay, ain’t it?” one of them said. “Hell, it’s not as if there’s any law left to be breaking.”

Mitch had noticed the several cans that they had with them. “What do you guys have planned?” he asked, ignoring the question.

“Getting the hell out of here.” The heftier one gestured over his shoulder with a thumb. “Our rig’s shot, but we found another that’ll move. No sense staying here to be roasted. Looks to me like you two guys was pretty much figuring on the same thing yourselves, anyhow.”

“What have you got?” Mitch asked them. “Another tractor-only, like this, or does it have a trailer too?”

“It’s a full rig,” the hefty one replied. “We figured on picking up more people along the way. Chances are gonna be better for bunches of folks that stick together.”

Keene and Mitch exchanged quick glances. Both nodded at the same time. “Then you’ve got that already,” Mitch said, looking back. “There’s eleven of us, including five Army. The others are over that way, not far.”

“Which way you intendin’ on headin’?” the smaller of the truckers asked.

“South—toward Corpus Christi.”

The larger trucker shook his head emphatically. “That’s crazy. Everyone’s going the other way. You’re on your own, soldier. They’re collecting everybody around El Paso. That’s where they’re gonna hold out until it’s over.”

“We just came on a train from El Paso,” Mitch told them. “You’re not going to get through by road. It’s blocked all the way.”

“So what in hell do you think you’re gonna do in Corpus Christi that’s any better?” the big trucker demanded. “It’s all under water. You expecting an ark?”