Chapter 23 - Snowflake
The plan was simple, which Sara liked because it meant it might actually work. Put the train back together, load up everybody, go out through the gap to points west, and blow up the gap with the last of her plastic explosives. How much simpler could it get?
Now all they needed was time.
Which was the hitch, of course. Her explosives couldn’t even begin to scratch the tunnel from the Before Times, and the slope of the mountain required more explosives than she had to seal the mouth. It remained open, providing Lystra a way to reach the town. Any minute, they could come pouring through. The town militia was stationed at the mouth. Their job was to slow the invaders down. The defenders had a portion of the explosives to help them.
Sara saw the engine get disconnected from the power grid. Brewer was in the cab, pulling it out of the shed with the help of the councilors, racing it into the town square. Turned out that the three leaders were also the ones most familiar with the holy books. They provided Brewer with assistance on conducting the locomotive. Sara left as the cars to the train were being gathered. One had to be hewed from a building attached to it. They were gathered in the center of town to assemble the train and be loaded. There weren’t many cars, promising a crowded ride.
The tilting sun cast slanted shadows across the mountain face revealing the nooks and crannies of the rock. Sara studied the crags of the gap above her.
“Well, do you have enough?” The voice of Jack, a stonemason from the town, pulled her out of her reverie. He had been pointing out the locations for placing the remaining explosives.
Sara thought. “It’s close. I’m starting to wish I hadn’t given any to the militia.”
“They’re going to need all the help they can get.”
Sara nodded. She went to Maggie to get the explosives. “The problem is getting it done in time.”
A retort echoed through the valley.
Sara and Jack looked at each other.
“It’s starting.”
* * *
Driving the train was easy, in principle. Rob had explained it to him in detail. Several times. Step on the pedal, turn the big overhead lever to a number other than zero, hold the switch on the console closed, and let off the pedal. Engine go.
There was a shifter on the dashboard for making the train go forward or backward. He had gotten some practice with it getting the cars into the plaza in the middle of the town. There had been one unfortunate incident at the start coming out of the train engine shed when he cranked the overhead lever all the way over. The machine had torn down the tracks, acceleration dumping people onto the floor and against the back wall. Ahead, buildings raced toward him and Brewer could feel the engine lifting to one side in a curve.
In panic, Brewer let go of the switch, the brass plate snapping back and the engine immediately slowed and stopped. He was very careful after that.
“Looks like things are proceeding fine. People are loading up.” Ellen pulled herself back in from the left bay window of the cockpit.
Brewer walked across the cab and looked out the window back along the train. They had half a dozen cars with seats attached and a dilapidated empty one at the end. The one at the end was just a big empty container with large doors on the sides. “Boxcar,” the holy books said.
Whatever it was called, people were dropping their possessions off to be loaded in it and then queueing up to get on the passenger cars. There were animals being taken onto the passenger cars. Brewer wondered how all the people and animals would get along.
Brewer ducked back inside and shook his head. Maybe there would be time. He thought about how in all this time warfare must have changed and yet it still remained the same. Make the other guy die first. It filled him with sorrow.
A report was heard, loud and clear, above the incessant hum of the engine. A glance through the window showed a smoke and dust column rising from the where the tunnel mouth was located.
Ellen was out the door and down the ladder. “Crap! Get the people loaded! We’re out of time,” she yelled. The milling crowd surged toward the cars that Brewer had spend the afternoon collecting behind the idling engine.
“How’s it looking, Rob?” Brewer went to his seat.
Rob studied the panel in the back, one hand holding an ancient book, the other hand pointing at various dials, wiping their coverings. The brittle yellow pages had faded marks on them, and he frequently turned them, back and forth.
“As far as I can tell, it’s running okay. One of the dials has a value that the holy book says is outside of the recommended operational parameters. I don’t know what it means to us.”
Peter looked out the window at the crowds for a moment.
“They need to stop trying to load stuff. It should just be people at this point. Ellen’s going to need help wrangling them. Rob, you got Brewer.” Peter was already climbing down.
Brewer surveyed the sum total of his possessions. It was propped up against a corner in the cockpit, the canister from forever ago, from inside the box. Sara’s dowry. Everything else was long gone. He gave Maggie to Sara just before she left on her errand. It seemed fitting. Sara insisted the canister was his now. Maggie was relieved of it just before Sara left. The only thing that really mattered to him was that he had Sara. He shifted in the seat.
Another boom resounded. The militia must be hard pressed. Brewer leaned forward and drummed his fingers on the console. He grabbed the deadman, gripping it hard. Sara had to be ready at the other end. “How’s is looking back there?”
Rob’s voice from outside drifted in. “Progress is being made. Maybe a quarter to go?”
Another bang.
Brewer could hear frantic yelling now, over the din of the cab.
He breathed in through his nose and let it out slowly through his mouth. All that could be done was to wait for the big explosion signaling the retreat of the militia from the tunnel position. They would have to race down the escarpment to the waiting train in a certain amount of time or be left behind.
“This is going to be close.” Rob leaned back against the wall in the alcove, over the canister with his body.
“I know.”
“You have to leave within minutes of the big one. Your wife will be lighting the fuses.”
“I know!” Brewer’s response was loud. He furiously tapped his heel and chewed his lower lip. “How is it coming?”
Rob went to the window. “Almost done. We’re leaving a lot behind. Maybe we should leave your wedding present? Then she wouldn’t come after us.”
“That’s not what she wants anymore. She wants me, Sara, and the rest of you dead.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.”
A large explosion rattled the windows. Brewer sat up and looked at Rob.
Rob pulled out a small sand timer and flipped it. “We have ten minutes.”
* * *
The loud boom reverberated across the slopes.
“We’re out of time,” said Sara.
The stonemason looked up from his chisel and sledge. “I’m not done. We still have a few more.”
“What else can we do?”
Jack looked at the slope. He gaze went up. “There, that rock.” He pointed at a massive protrusion in the cliff. Snow was piled on top in huge mounds. “If that goes, along with what we got done, it should be enough. There’s where it needs to go.”
Sara followed his arm to a black scar under the rock. It was high. There was hard climbing involved. A low whistle escaped Sara’s lips. “Whew. You sure that’ll work? How are you going to get up there?”
“It has to work. And I’m not going up there. I have to finish this. Here.” He held the remaining explosives out for Sara.
She gulped. OK, I can do this. She grabbed the bag and started climbing.
The way up started smooth enough. Just go over these rocks, climb over the large one, get a leg on the ledge. Whew!
Sara turned to give Jack a thumb’s up.
He had started down already and was a good ways off. She pressed her lips together into a hard line and knit her brow. Sure, make the pregnant woman climb. Back to rocks. Handhold to handhold, she steadily rose.
Her breath grew ragged. Several times she had to pull herself up, the bag getting in the way. The destination seemed no closer. Damn it, time was running out!
She pushed herself harder.
There was a place where the rock met cliff in the form of a crack under the jutting granite, a weakness where she could stuff the plastic explosive in. So close.
Three distant whistle blasts reached her ears. Dear Gaia, Brewer was underway. Her arms burned, legs trembled, and back hurt. She hauled her body to the final ledge under the destination. She sat there, panting.
Alright, can’t afford to catch your breath now. Push the material into the gap, set the fuses and get back down to the coming train. It had seemed so doable back in the village.
She forced air into her lungs in big, burning gasps when she dug into the bag. The remaining wad of material went next to the friction point. She got the fuse out with trembling hand, twisted it and stuck it to the explosive. The die was cast. Now to go back down and start the other fuses on the way down.
Brewer better be on fucking time.
* * *
The sand had almost run out. Brewer couldn’t tear himself away from looking at the timer in Rob’s hand. His own hand threatened to cramp from the deathgrip he had on the switch. He moved the big overhead lever a quarter way through the dial and stood on the brake.
The whole train vibrated and slowly, very slowly, squealing in protest, inched forward.
“Are they on yet?” he yelled at Rob over his shoulder.
“No..., wait, I see them. They are running into the plaza.” Rob practically screamed at him. “They’re shouting something. Go? Go. They’re shouting go!”
Brewer pulled on the overhead wire three times and he took his foot off the pedal.
A groaning and shuddering started, setting Brewer’s teeth on edge. The wheels caught. Metal on metal made loud their complaint. The train pulled away.
“Er, can you make this go faster? There are some people setting up some sort of tube behind us.” Rob’s voice registered concern.
“Hang on.” Brewer pulled the overhead lever to its limit. The train surged ahead. A “woah,” a thump, and a metallic clatter sounded behind him. The machinery of the engine hit a crescendo. Something bumped against his ankle. The canister. He ignored it at the moment. Brewer held the switch for dear life. Now was not the time to let go. He strained to hear what Rob was saying. Something pointed at them. The wheels screamed against the rails. A bend in the tracks was coming. He had to clear the plaza.
Brewer’s mouth was set in a grim line. It was a race, a simple race. Around the bend were buildings. Get past those and they should be safe, out of sight of whatever surprise Lystra had back there. The cab cleared them. Now the back needed to slip past them. The cab tilted and Brewer thought the wheels would lift off the track.
The building on the left exploded. Stone and timbers flew. Brewer prayed to Gaia they didn’t derail.
“We’re clear!”
Rob’s shout brought relief. Another bend was coming as the spur they were on joined the main track. He would have to slow down to navigate it. Past the frog, he could open it up again. It was a straight shot from there to where Sara was waiting.
* * *
Sara could see the train from her vantage point, barreling toward the gap. She, unfortunately, also saw something else.
A pair of small, four wheeled vehicles threw snow up behind them in a fantail. They raced next to the tracks toward where she now hid, ahead of the train. Way ahead. They each had two people. One had a large tube tied to its side, the other a big box on the back.
Jack, the stonemason, crouched low next to a boulder below her. In what would have been a comical manner, he shushed her and pointed at the encroaching adversaries.
“Fucking Gaia’s teeth.” Sara crouched. Behind her, fuses were burning down. In front, the stonemason cowered. And Maggie was tied to a bush on the floor of the gap in plain sight.
The vanguard would reach the horse in no time at all. One of the four already had an arm raised and pointed. They angled toward Maggie.
Sara shook, hands opening and closing, teeth grinding. Think, think, think.
She raced to the nearest hole they had dug. Hand in it, she pinch a piece of the explosive out of the hole and stuck a short fuse on it. Taking aim, she twisted it and lobbed the package at the approaching ATV’s. She ran headlong down the slope as the grenade flew.
From the floor of the gap, a boom recoiled among the stones. The ATVs veered and stopped. They scanned the slope.
Sara had almost reached Maggie. She felt a little lightheaded, and there was a purple tinge to her vision.
No, no, no, not now. Foot in the stirrup, she flung herself over the saddle.
The vehicles roared toward her.
“Hiyah, Maggie, hiyah!” Sara’s heels dug into Maggie’s flanks. The horse took off like a bullet, closing the distance to the interlopers. Sara pulled her belt off and energized it. She held it high like an avenging angel.
The train bore down on the scene.
The vehicles stopped. The riders pawed at their weapons. She galloped between them. The sword whistled through the air. It found the armored neck of the man on the back. The helmeted head went rolling as the body slumped.
A quick look over her shoulder told her she had picked up pursuers. And they were gaining on her.
The train loomed large. It sounded its horn in a long blast. Some fool was running along the top of the train.
Sara wheeled the horse around. Belt, don’t fail me now. The sword sizzled as she held it to the side and charged her attackers.
They scattered. An ATV, the one with the box and missing a passenger, went up on the tracks. The driver fled from the onrushing engine, abandoning it there.
The wheels along the whole train squealed. Sparks flew. Sara deactivated the belt and raced to the rendezvous.
The train hit the parked vehicle and crushed it. There was a loud bang and flash from under the wheels. The engine shuddered. Debris went flying. Something silvery flew from the cabin. The stonemason ran alongside to jump on the still moving train. He reached it as a series of muffled thumps were heard from above.
Scree began to slide down the slope, faster and faster. A loud boom hurt her ears. Sara looked up. The promontory was collapsing. Huge boulders from farther up tumbled down, toward the gap. Behind them, a flood of snow.
“Oh crap! Go Maggie, go!”
Sara abandoned all caution. Lather frothed on Maggie. Someone was leaning out of the side of the last car, waving them on.
Brewer! It was Brewer.
“Come on! Hurry!” He held an arm out.
Furious hooves got Sara to the opening on the side. She aimed Maggie at it, kicked her and pulled the reins up.
Maggie obeyed and leapt into the car, skidding to a halt, rump down. The train picked up speed.
Death raised a din at having been denied its quarry.
Brewer steadied Maggie. Sara got off. One hand went to the base of her back, the other reached out to Brewer. She bent over in pain.
Brewer swept her up in his arms. “Dear Gaia, that was close.” He held her tight.
“Hold me, Brewer. Don’t ever let go.”
“Abe.”
“What?”
“I’m not the same man I was anymore. I’m picking a new name, like everyone else. Abraham. Abe for short.”
Sara nodded and rested her head against his chest.
The two held each other for a long time as the train headed into the setting sun.
The End