Trail Notes
Trail Notes #14
Still stings
“Tear gas, can you believe those assholes? They made off clean with the cargo too.”
“Just keep your eyes open, Peterson.”
Sarah sniffled and wiped her nose with her arm as she watched the unit’s medic rinse out the fidgeting soldier’s eyes with water from his canteen. Other National Guard soldiers waited nearby in various states of discomfort and undress, contaminated uniforms discarded while they rinsed and aired themselves out. Some filled their canteens from the stream; others dunked their faces in farther down to relieve their symptoms. The majority had already mostly recovered, but she could still hear someone vomiting from behind one of the trucks.
Her own clothes hung alongside a dozen other uniforms on a makeshift clothesline strung between two of the military vehicles, downwind, gently swaying in the breeze like camouflage banners on a paracord bunting. She was down to shorts and a sports bra for the time being. Like a bad dream, the effects of the noxious fumes from the tear gas grenades were slowly fading away.
She closed her eyes and raised her face toward the afternoon sun, content to bask in its warmth, her back propped against the rear tire of one of the trucks as she reflected on the chaos of the past hour.
She remembered getting thrown to the ground at the sound of Parker’s men firing. Very quickly, the entire platoon was coughing, wheezing, and stumbling about, trying to figure out what was happening.
After ordering everyone to hold their fire once he realized the other group wasn’t trying to kill them, Captain Kimsey had everyone disperse from the gas and rally upwind toward the cargo. By the time they had accounted for everyone, the men in black had already made off with their prize, leaving only wisps of gray smoke which the group had used to screen their actions from the soldiers’ view.
Sarah sighed, uncrossing her bare, outstretched legs and repositioning the bottom one on top of the other to restore circulation. She wiggled her toes, noticing for the first time a small blister forming on one of her pinky toes. She drifted back into thought.
While the rest of the platoon recovered, she, Kimsey, and one of the sergeants had stood over a map, all in various layers of undress, discussing next steps. When they were sure there was nobody in need of immediate medical attention, they decided to leave within the hour. The soldier throwing up was having a particularly bad reaction to the gas. Nothing urgent, but the medic suggested getting him to the next town for a more in-depth medical examination, just to be sure.
“Mind if I sit here, Agent Fuller?” Captain Kimsey interrupted, dressed only in his boxers, tan undershirt, and boots, pointing at the front tire of the same truck Sarah was using as a backrest.
“Not at all, Mike,” Sarah replied. “And please call me Sarah. I think we’re past the point of formalities.” She gestured at their mutual lack of clothing.
Kimsey smiled uneasily. “Hungry?”
Sarah nodded as he tossed her an MRE.
For a while, they ate in silence.
Kimsey cleared his throat. “I’m real sorry about all this.”
Sarah turned to him, still chewing. “What do you mean?”
“I mean all of this.” He motioned around them, shaking his head.
“Not your fault,” she replied between bites. “It was just a little tear gas. We’ll be all right.”
Kimsey stared out across the field. “We lost the cargo, we never found out who those guys were, and we’re lucky no one got injured or worse.”
“Well, thankfully, everyone seems to be alright.”
Someone retched loudly behind them.
“I’m okay!” a soldier yelled.
Kimsey shook his head. “I know. I just feel like we got lucky, like if I’d taken charge earlier, things would’ve turned out different.”
Sarah studied him for a moment. His face looked younger than his rank would suggest, but the lines around his eyes told a different story. His forehead was slightly sunburned, his face and neck several shades darker than the rest of him from months spent covered up in the desert.
He was beating himself up a little bit. She decided not to let him.
“So,” she said, “what’s next?”
Kimsey drew in a deep breath and sat up a little straighter. “Well, Paulden is the closest town. We’ll head there in a bit. Plus, there’s a federal train stopped there. We could use their med bay and commo to report back to base.”
“Oh?” Sarah raised an eyebrow in surprise. She didn’t know the federal line was finished, much less running. The twin transcontinental tracks were supposed to connect military installations from North Carolina to California, but the project had still been ongoing the last time she’d checked. She remembered the plans for the federal rail lines from her Courier training. “When did the train arrive there?”
“The Don’t Say I Didn’t Warn You arrived yesterday afternoon, assuming it’s still on schedule. Should be there for another day or two.”
Sarah’s eyebrow rose even higher. “The what now?”
“That’s what it’s called. The train—or its AI, or whatever.” Kimsey took a swig of water from his canteen and shrugged. “I guess they let the train name itself.”
Sarah nodded to herself. Interesting.
Paulden was just north of Prescott, where the signal had come from, where the men in black were most likely headed, and near the abandoned Cloud Mesa development.
Close enough.
A federal train might have answers Little Sedona didn’t.
“Yeah, strange, right? Anyways, I’ll make sure the guys...” He looked around warily. “Get checked out by a real doctor. Get some real food.”
Sarah smirked, then, regaining her composure, gave him a reassuring look. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. Stuff happens.”
Kimsey nodded. “Thanks. I just feel responsible for the guys is all. They’re like family.”
One of the younger soldiers was laughing now, red-eyed and shirtless, while the medic poured water over his hair.
Just kids, Sarah thought.
Like brothers.
Her throat tightened, and for a second, she had to turn away.
Kimsey noticed the glint in her eyes. “The gas still getting you?”
Sarah wiped beneath one eye with the heel of her hand.
“Yeah.”
She looked away.
“Still stings.”
