Zen's War: Captivity

As they walked down the pockmarked surface of Countryclub Avenue Zen contemplated what had just transpired. He wondered if the Colonel’s survival had anything to do with the Houngan’s influence over the spiritual realm. He didn’t even know if there even was a spiritual realm. Looking at the Colonel you would have never known that only moments before he had been on the brink of death. His face was full of color, and his eyes were clear and bright. It was also possible that his immune system had fought off the toxin, though Zen would never know for certain.

The sun was just above the eastern horizon and it was obvious that it would be a hot day. Their plan had fallen apart. Stealing a car from the revolutionary front was no longer a viable option. They would have to find another way to get to the cult’s compound they had heard about from the Abbess Anne. They had no idea if Sahara would be there, but it was definitely possible. They didn’t even know exactly where it was. All they knew was that it was somewhere near the Dragoon Mountains. This wasn’t very helpful information because it was a vast area to cover. Interstate 10 would bring them just within reach of the Dragoon Mountains, but it was the most dangerous route. Traveling by interstate was like having a death wish. There were roving gangs of cutthroats and robbers, let alone soldiers of the Mexican Revolutionary Front.

Another possible way to get there was to travel by train. The train was one form of technology that remained in use after the war, though it was not for use by the public. The only ones allowed to travel by passenger trains were soldiers and their families. All other trains were used to transport raw materials such as coal and other resources such as food and water. They could possibly hop a freight train and get to the western face of the Dragoons. Zen used to hop trains for the thrill of it, but he had been a much younger man then.

As they continued onward and the sun began to fill the world with light they could make out the Presidio off in the distance. They could discern the Mexican flag waving in the breeze above the front entrance. The walls were around eight feet high and constructed of stucco over brick. They would need to avoid it at all costs. There was somewhere around forty soldiers and two officers stationed there. They lived there year-round. The four walls of the Presidio encircled a square that was three-acres across. At one side was a church built in to one of the walls. At each of the four corners of the Presidio was a bastion with a single cannon and a soldier placed there. The soldiers at each bastion were also equipped with binoculars so they could see a great distance.

“So, how far is it to the train tracks from here?” Zen asked the Colonel as they walked within sight of the Presidio.

“Why do you ask?” The Colonel responded.

“I was thinking that we could hop a freight train that would bring us within range of the Dragoon Mountains,” Zen answered.

“Why would you want to go there? Is it because of what the Abbess said?” the Colonel asked, “you don’t even know if your daughter was kidnapped by those religious fanatics.”

“I don’t hear anybody else coming up with any ideas. It’s at least worth a try. If she’s not there at least we’ve eliminated one possibility,” Zen suggested.

Aurora suddenly rang in with her opinion, “He’s right. At least we would know that she’s not there; then we can try another option.”

“I don’t know how you guys manage to stay so optimistic. I guess you do have a point though,” the Colonel conceded. “The best place to hop the train is probably just east of the train depot downtown. If we turn right on Sixth Street we can follow it all the way downtown.”

As they came to Sixth Street and Country Club Avenue they quickly turned right before the soldiers at the Presidio could see them.