“You’re not kidding, Millie,” J.B. muttered. “This is bad enough for me, but for those behind?” He let the question hang in the air.
Jenny shifted in her seat and looked to the back of the wag. It was closed in, with no windows but a sec monitor that gave them a rear view via a camera in the frame of the vehicle. The monitors still worked, and one of Correll’s men watched it.
“What’s happening back there?” the Native American asked.
The Hellbender shrugged. “Fuck knows. He’s right, Jenny. There’s nothing but dust back there. I wouldn’t mind betting they can’t see a thing.”
THE SENTIMENT WAS ECHOED by Lonnie, the driver of the next wag back, but with a little more exasperation.
“Fuck it, why don’t they watch where they go?” he yelled—more to himself than anyone else—as he hit the wheel of the wag hard with the palm of his hand. “Shit, how are we supposed to know where we are when there’s nothing but dust all around?”
“Just follow, for fuck’s sake,” Catherine said wearily, leaning against the side of the wag, then wincing as a jolt over a rut caused her to crack her head against the metal side.
“How can I?” Lonnie snapped. “I can’t see what I’m supposed to be following.”
Dean pondered for a few seconds, then leaned forward to Doc.
“You wish a few moments of discursive diversion?” Doc asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I want to talk about something,” Dean replied.
“Then pray tell me what it is.”
“I’ve been thinking, Doc, and I’m wondering if I should mention this.”
Doc beamed at the young Cawdor. “Certainly, I would be only too pleased to advise you—provided, of course, you tell me what it is that you wish advice upon.”
“Yeah, funny, Doc, really funny. But it could be important.”
Doc’s attitude changed, immediately becoming more serious. “Then go ahead, young Dean,” he said softly.
“Well, if Lonnie’s having this trouble, and all the wags behind are getting it worse, then what’s it going to be like when we mount the ambush? There won’t just be our wags, there’ll be convoys from Summerfield and Charity, as well.”
“That’s a lot of dust, and a lot of confusion,” Doc agreed.
“Exactly.”
“I think this needs mentioning,” Doc said gravely.
“You hear that, Lonnie?” Catherine said. Although feigning disinterest, she had been listening in to their conversation.
“Yeah, I caught the general idea,” Lonnie acknowledged between gritted teeth, steering wildly to try to negotiate a reasonably clear path along the track. “Think the two-ways will work yet?”
“They may over a short distance,” Dean said, moving to the front of the wag. “I’ll keep it brief, ’cause you never know who may be listening.”
“I don’t reckon that they’ve got radio equipment,” Lonnie answered.
“Mebbe if find spy,” Jak chipped in. He had been apparently sleeping, but as was his way he had kept his senses alert and had awakened at the sound of Dean’s voice.
Lonnie blew out his cheeks. “Fuck, I hope not.”
Dean picked up the handset of the radio and put a call through to the leading wag, knowing that the exchange would be heard by all the wags, as Correll had made sure that they were all tuned to the same wavelength before leaving the redoubt. The use of old tech like this was rare, but Correll, with Danny’s help, had been able to make sense of what he had found at the old military installation, and right now, Dean was glad of this.
When Correll responded angrily, asking why the hell Dean was using the radio, which was only for emergency use, Dean quickly explained his concern. There was a pause before Correll answered.
“If we stick to the basic plan, then we’ll be in close enough to see what’s going on in the clouds. If we move swiftly, then we’ll pin them down in such a way that they won’t be able to move out of formation without running straight into us…in which case we just blast the fuckers anyway. Besides, the rendezvous point is hemmed in on all sides by outcrops. The chem storm won’t have been able to blow up so hard in there, so the ground shouldn’t be so churned up.”