Titanic 2020: Cannibal City

10 The President's Train

Lucky Jimmy Armstrong had vaguely heard of Air Force One, the President's private jet. He seemed to remember him flying around the world in it, solving problems or causing them. But he'd never heard of a Presidential train. Nevertheless, with a scar on his cheek and hurting from head to toe, Jimmy ran towards it as it sat idling on the tracks a hundred metres ahead of him as if he was finishing a race. He could now see an American eagle emblazoned on the rear of the last carriage, and the Stars and Stripes flying above it.

Finally my luck has changed!

I'm bound for the Promised Land — and if they don't let me on board, well, I'll stow away, I'm good at that!

The first shot stopped him dead. It pinged off the rusting track a little to his left. The second shot, this time to his right, made him raise his hands.

He immediately realised how stupid he'd been — running at the President's train! These were dangerous times, people had been driven to madness by the collapse of civilisation. The President's security guards would be nervous of someone just charging out of the woods — he might have a gun or bomb or anything.

Three men dressed in army fatigues climbed down from the rear carriage and advanced cautiously, rifles trained on him. As they drew closer Jimmy saw that they weren't actually that much older than him — surely no more than sixteen. Two had cropped hair. The third boy, who seemed to be in charge, had a Mohican.

'Who are you?' Mohican snapped. 'What do you want?'

'This is the President's train?' Jimmy asked.

'Sure.'

One of the crop-heads began to search him.

'I heard he was setting up some new settlement. Thought I might be able to help.'

'You? How?'

'I'll tell him that.'

Mohican snorted. He nodded to his comrades. 'Bring him.'

They took a rough hold of him and guided him to the back carriage. Mohican went aboard first. Inside Jimmy saw that about half of the seats were occupied by similarly dressed soldiers — and none of them appeared to be any older than the boys accompanying him. Some were considerably younger. But they were all carrying guns.

Jimmy was led through two similar carriages. As they entered the next one, the train began to move.

Mohican motioned to an empty seat.

'Wait here,' he snapped before continuing on. Jimmy sat. The two other guards remained by the door behind him. The seats in this carriage were also half occupied, again by boys of roughly his age — but none of them were wearing army fatigues, and they all looked every bit as nervous as he was.

Jimmy nodded at the boy on the other side of the aisle from him. The boy nodded back. There was something vaguely familiar about him.

'I know you,' said Jimmy.

'No talking,' said one of the guards.

The boy opposite shrugged. He looked out of the window. Even sitting down, Jimmy could see that he was quite small, but broad shouldered and tough looking. 'I definitely know you,' Jimmy persisted.

'Quiet,' said the guard.

Jimmy glanced back at him. 'Sorry,' he said.

'That means no talking!'

'OK,' said Jimmy. 'Get the message.'

The guard moved his rifle from one shoulder to the other.

Jimmy made a zipping motion across his mouth. 'Not a peep,' he said.

The guard took a step forward. His comrade put a restraining hand on his arm. The first guard glared across, then jabbed a warning finger at Jimmy. 'Later,' he said.

Jimmy shrugged. He knew he was being thick. But he tended to say stupid things when he was nervous or confused. He didn't understand what was going on here. He was on the President's train. But it didn't feel right. He didn't like these boys with guns. He didn't like being manhandled. He didn't like being told to be quiet. And he didn't like the boy in the opposite seat. Their eyes met. The boy raised his hands and made a kind of rectangle shape, pointing at Jimmy. He raised one of his fingers, then moved it down quickly. As he did he made a clicking sound. And smirked.

Claire's camera! The thief!

Without even thinking about it, Jimmy threw himself across the aisle and upon the boy. He grabbed him by the throat and received a punch in the mouth for his trouble. They wrestled each other on to the carriage floor.

The guards thundered down the aisle screaming at them to stop just as Jimmy managed to get on top and smash his fist into the boy's nose. 'You stole her camera you little mugger!' Jimmy yelled. He aimed another punch. The boy rolled his head to one side, avoiding contact.

Jimmy was grabbed from behind and dragged off.

Blood rolled down the boy's face. 'It was only a camera!' he shouted. 'There's thousands of them lying around!'

'Because of you she's—'

He never finished saying it. Mohican had suddenly reappeared and grabbed him by the throat. He walked Jimmy backwards until he was pressed hard against the divider between the seats.

'Cut it out — now!' Mohican snapped.

Despite the fact that he could hardly breathe, Jimmy strained against him. 'He stole . . .' he whispered, his eyes bulging. 'He . . .'

'NOW!'

Jimmy, lacking oxygen, finally nodded.

Mohican relaxed his grip. 'Right. Now follow me, you little creep. The President wants to see you.'

Mohican let go of him, turned and marched away along the aisle. Jimmy glared across at his enemy, sitting defenceless once again. Renew the attack or meet the President of the United States?

He had no choice, really.