Part 90 (1/2)

On his own two feet, that's how. C'mon, move, Brick-man!

He rolled over onto his belly and hauled himself up onto his hands and knees. Looking down he saw his knuckles were scuffed and bleeding. He had definitely done something to his left shoulder, any pressure on it soon became unbearable. Well, he was going to have to bear it. He put the weight on his right arm and tried to get his left knee up and under him, but his left ankle didn't seem to be working properly.

It was in that position, with his head hanging down, that he heard the sound of a vehicle. He looked over his left shoulder and saw a camouflaged Bobcat b.u.mping across the railway line in his direction.

It stopped nearby and the two occupants jumped down and ran over to him.

Both of them were dressed in red, black and brown camouflage fatigues and field caps, with shoulder badges that showed they were with an overground Mines and Mills Unit based at Eisenhower/San Antonio. Their breast tags named them as Coombs and Murchison.

Coombs squatted down beside him. 'You okay, good buddy? Jeezuss! You must be the luckiest man alive!” Murchison surveyed the litter of broken bodies. 'Looks like he's the only man alive! Shee-itt! This is something, ain't it?”

'Could you help me up?” gasped Steve.

'Sure!” said Coombs. 'Let's get you over to the 'Cat.

We got a first aid kit in there.”

'Looks like you need it,' added Murchison. He sat Steve up against one of the wheels while Coombs climbed into the vehicle to get the kit and some water.

'How did you get here?” asked Steve.

Murchison shrugged. 'Saw the'explosion, reckoned something' was wrongdrove straight through the G.o.ddam fence.”

'I'm glad you did.”

Coombs knelt on the platform that ran alongside the cabin section of the amphib and cleaned Steve's headwound. 'uhh, that's not too deep, but you might need some st.i.tches.” He applied some antibiotic gel then gave Steve the wet cotton swab. 'Clean off your hands, they look like they could use some gel too.”

Murchison hunkered down in front of him. 'How's the ankle? D'you want it splinted up?”

'No. I think I just twisted it. It'll come right.”

Murchison eyed the grey leather boots and the rest of Steve's torn and dirt-covered Confederate uniform as he straightened up. 'Pretty fancy rig you got there - what's left of it.” 'Yeah,' said Steve. He loosened some b.u.t.tons on his tunic, reached inside and produced his silver ID card.

'Family... can you run me to San Antone?”

Murchison saluted. 'Yessirr, Captain?

Steve gestured towards the scattered wreckage of the train. 'Have you called this in?”

'No, sir. We just saw it happen and steamed over. Who would you like us to call? We can do it right now.”

'That won't be necessary. I'll make the calls when I reach your divisional base. This is the work of subversives - I'm going to have to speak with the State Provost Marshal and the White House. But I shall need you to come back here and guard that breach in the fence until our people get here.” He masked the pain that wracked his body.

'Okay, let's. .h.i.t the road!” Murchison pulled out the retractable step ladder between the second and third portside wheels. As Steve turned towards the vehicle, he saw a crumpled swathe of yellow material pinned underneath the rear tyre of the Bobcat. It was part of the dress Fran had been wearing.

The one she had hung up before lying down to take the nap she would never wake up from ....

He climbed onto the hull, entered the four-seat cabin through the side door and settled down in the back row.

Coombs, the smaller of the two, got in behind the wheel.