"Save it for the groomsmen, then. No, I won't take it, and that's final. Just take my advice, and don't do stuff like this. The way I got to be this age, pulling easy duty, is by not bending the rules. Get me, you two?"

The train started down the opposite bank of the Platte and rolled onto the bridge.

"We get you-thank you, sir!" Duvalier said, kissing him on the cheek as they hurried past him. "Sometimes the rougher they are on the outside, the more tender on the inside," she added sotto voce as they took positions alongside the tracks. "It's the ones who just seem not to give a damn one way or the other who make me worried."

Valentine took a good look at the train. It burned oil, judging from the blue fumes emerging from the engine. Behind the engine came the main guard car: a mountain of sandbags and a tripod-mounted machine gun. Behind the guards was a pair of passenger cars followed by the freight and tanker cars. A caboose, looking like it was modified from an old observatory car, brought up the rear. Most of its windows were missing.

Valentine and Duvalier ran for the little balcony welded onto the rear of the armored caboose. A bored-looking guard started to wave, then stared at them as they dashed to catch the train. They both leapt up onto the platform and grabbed railing.

"Help her over, dammit!" Valentine said to the paralyzed soldier, who complied.

Valentine swung his legs over the rail. "Good arrangement here," he said casually as a sergeant appeared with an infuriated look on his face. "If there's one thing I hate, it's riding on top of a boxcar. Can't even roll a cigarette, you know?" he said, carefully taking out a paper and a pouch of makings.

"Look, Trooper, I dunno what you two think you're ... Hey now, is that the real thing?" the sergeant asked, looking at the aromatic brown shreds going into the cigarette.

"Real Tennessee Valley Tobacco, or so they tell me."

"You wouldn't be able to spare a puff? Haven't had a real cig in a week, just chew that's half sawdust. Bastard Chicago clip-joints."

"The Zoo, eh?" Valentine said with a knowing wink. "Only thing I ever came home with from there I needed gunpowder to cure, you know? I'll do better than a puff or two-you can have the whole thing, how's that. Can never have too many friends in the New Federal Railways, you know?"

"This train is Consolidated Overland. Federal has the gray uniforms with the black epaulet. We've got patches."

Valentine looked over at Duvalier, who appeared to be making herself agreeable to the sentry who helped her over the rail.

"Stopping in Lincoln, right?"

"Of course, and then on west. End of the line is Mc-Cook."

"Passing near Grand Island?"

"Err, Grand Island ... I don't know the Plains that well, beyond our route. Let's see the map." They went inside the caboose. Only one more soldier was on duty there, looking forward from the observation platform. The sergeant checked at a map pinned to the wall. "Okay, yes. We stop in Hastings, that's just south of Grand Island. What's in Grand Island?"

"Our wedding. I'm bringing her back from meeting my folks. My unit and her family are up there."

"You two'are carrying a lot of iron for just visiting relatives," the sergeant observed.

"I have to have my piece, Sergeant. Regulations. But even if that weren't the case, you can't be too careful near Omaha, sir," Valentine said. "Ali got us a pheasant the other day, too. She shoots well for a civilian."

"You could get in a lot of trouble back east letting a civilian carry a gun, even if it is yours, West. But hell, this calls for a drink, celebrate you two taking the bonds," the sergeant said, but the guard chatting with Duvalier looked disappointed.

Valentine grinned. "Yes, it does, and I'm buying. If you'll bend regs for a shot."

"If we took duty that seriously, you wouldn't be here, Trooper."

Valentine took out a bottle of whiskey, and three glasses appeared as if conjured out of wind and dust. He poured everyone two fingers' worth and faked a swallow from the bottle himself.

"Be sure to save enough for the wedding toast, baby," Duvalier said. "Your dad went through some trouble to get that."

"Have pity, miss," one of the guards said. "Awfully hard for a man to walk around with quality likker like this without having a sip now and then."

The rest of the journey passed in a much more convivial atmosphere. They discussed various kinds of duties, comparing being in the Troopers in Nebraska with guarding trains. In the process, Valentine and Duvalier learned a good deal about railroad routine. A second round of drinks, with formal toasts for the would-be newlyweds, cemented the temporary friendship. Unfortunately for Valentine's sense of satisfaction with the day's events, they learned what two of the boxcars held.

"Food for them. You know what I mean," the sergeant confided. "Twenty in each car this run, but we've crammed in as many as sixty. Half getting off in Lincoln. Glad it ain't our job to clean the cars out afterwards. We're just making sure they don't break out. They're chained up in there like dogs in kennels, but you never can tell."

"How long is the stop in Lincoln?" Valentine asked, desperate to change the subject.

"Four hours. We'll get some sleep. But don't worry, West. Some nosy-new comes checking in here, you two can hide in the john. We'll get you back to your sergeant and your wedding on time."

Tags: E.E. Knight Vampire Earth Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net