James Axler – Gaia’s Demise

“So I see,” J.B. mused. “Must have been a hell of a fight. Any chance they can be pushed?”

“Pushed?” Mildred repeated. “We move them to the bridge,” J.B. said, rubbing his arms for some warmth. He was chilled to the bone, but there was no time to change clothes now. “Hopefully, nobody will come looking for us, or the cannies, if they think we’re already dead.”

Understanding the plan, the companions got busy. Krysty stood guard duty while Doc cut branches off the pines trees and J.B. cleared the bridge. Then they emptied the Hummer of supplies, filling their backpacks with everything they could comfortably carry. Shoving the wag backward the few yards took all of them working together, the broken axle refusing to turn very fast. But the companions eventually got it to the middle of the bridge. The truck rolled much easier, and soon it was nose to nose again with the Hummer.

“Leave some supplies and blasters,” Ryan ordered, studying the wreckage. “This has to look real. Silas is no fool.”

“Can we still take along the M-60?” Dean asked. “No way they could know we have one.”

“Their wags’ have ’em,” Jak replied curtly. “If gone, what think?”

The boy frowned. “You’re right. Leave it behind.”

“Better move a couple of cannies to the Hummer to make the body count balance,” Mildred suggested.

While that was done, Ryan gave J.B. one of his dry shirts. Even buttoned shut, the garment still hung loosely off the smaller man, but his teeth stopped chattering and his hands ceased to shake.

Feeling better, J.B. placed the large wad of C-4 from the land mines on the bumpers of the wags, and Ryan poured the extra fuel from their spare canister over both machines. Then everybody moved across the bridge before J.B. set the charges with one of his precious predark timing pencils.

The friends headed into the trees, the bridge far from sight when the first flat explosion sounded, closely followed by a cavalcade of smaller detonations, crunching wood and multiple splashes.

“Sure hope that works,” Mildred said, watching the birds take flight overhead, frightened by the noises.

“Find out soon enough if it doesn’t,” Ryan replied, walking into the growing shadows of the Tennessee pine trees.

Chapter Nineteen

The carpeting of pine needles underfoot made walking pleasant, and the companions put several miles between them and the ruined bridge before stopping for a needed break.

“How far away are we?” Krysty asked, sitting on a tree stump. Unfolding some silver wrapping, she popped a stick of hundred-year-old chewing gum into her mouth and started to suck the flavor from the confection. It took too long for the stuff to get soft enough to actually chew. The wrapper she tucked into a pocket to hide the fact they had been here.

“Tell you in a minute,” J.B. said, sliding on dry socks from his backpack, then his shoes. His pants had dried from the quick march, and he had changed into one of his own shirts a good mile ago.

Moving to a grassy area where the branches didn’t block a view of the sky, the Armorer used his minisextant to shoot the sun. “We are…yep, just south of the Shiloh battlefield, east of the redoubt and west of the ville full of those inbred crazies.”

“I remember them,” Mildred said, scowling, easing her med kit to the soft ground. “That’s probably where Silas gets his sec men.”

“Indeed, madam, sec men or his slaves,” Doc stated, taking the opportunity to reload the LeMat. The bulky weapon was difficult enough to charge standing still, and impossible to do so while walking. His sure hands used a small brass brush to purge each individual firing chamber, spent black powder raining like ebony snow. An exact measure of fresh powder went in next, then the lead ball and finally a wad of cotton. He tamped down each charge with the built-in lever, then smeared a dollop of grease on the chambers as protection from wetness and a lethal chain reaction cross firing.

The physician nodded while awkwardly massaging her stiff shoulder. Mildred knew she was carrying too many medical supplies but couldn’t force herself to leave anything potentially useful behind.