Tumultus (35 page)

Looking out her window, Dublin noted the ground outside was passing more slowly.  The train was slowing down.

“Reese, we’re slowing down.”

Reese’s head snapped up as his eyes adjusted to the view outside the window.

“You’re right.  Hey, Coop – why’s the train slowing down?”

Cooper Wyse slowly took one of Bear’s chess pieces and then glanced out through the window across from him.

“Don’t know.  Imagine we’ll find out soon enough.”

Mac had awoken and stood up, his right hand resting on the grip of his sidearm.

“We should still be at least an hour or two outside of Terrace, right?”

Cooper nodded as he continued to study the chess board.

Mac walked to the back of the passenger car to look out the windowed door to see what was behind him.  There was nothing but the train tracks and the near barren and frozen landscape.  Seeing Mac becoming nervous, Bear rose from his seat and began looking outside as well.

“What’s up, Mac?”

Mac looked back at Bear briefly before returning his gaze to the outside.

“Not sure.  Just don’t feel quite right, you know?  Maybe…maybe the Russian is just taking precautions before traveling through Terrace?”

“One of us could go up to the front and ask him.”

Reese’s suggestion remained unanswered as Bear looked to the narrow wooden plank that ran along the passenger car’s exterior wall that was the path to the front of the train.

“You mean out there – while we’re still moving?”

Reese was already moving to the back door of the passenger car.

“Sure.  He said if we needed something to just walk to the front.  I’ll go.”

Dublin grabbed Reese by his right arm and held him back from leaving through the door.

“Reese, we can just wait until we’re stopped.  You don’t have to go out there.”

Reese smiled back at Dublin.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.  That way we don’t have to be waiting in here wondering what is going on.  Be right back.”

Dublin and the others watched as Reese’s legs moved past the windows of the passenger car as he slowly made his way to the Russian at the front of the train.  Though the train had slowed, Reese was surprised both at how strong and how cold the wind was that battered his body.  He clung tightly to the steel hand rail that was just above his head on the upper portion of the passenger car while his feet shuffled sideways on the wood plank.

Behind the locomotive, there was a smaller trailer containing a large supply of coal.  This trailer was hitched to the front of the passenger car, and Reese saw there was no plank to walk alongside the coal trailer.  Instead, he would have to jump into the trailer itself, walk over the pile of coal, and then down into the locomotive where the Russian was driving the train.

Pausing to take a deep breath, Reese jumped from the plank into the back of the coal trailer, landing softly onto the dark pile of coal.  Instantly, a cloud of dust rose up from his feet before settling onto his clothes.  Each step he took over the coal pile created yet another small cloud of coal dust.  By the time he reached the other side of the trailer, both his winter boots and lower half of his pants were covered in the dust.

As his head rose up from the coal trailer to look into the back of the locomotive, Reese found himself staring directly into the eyes of the Russian glaring back at him.

“What do you want?”

Reese continued to pull himself out of the coal trailer before answering the question, which caused the Russian to merely repeat it with more volume.

“What do you want?”

The Russian was covered entirely in dark soot, the whites of his eyes the only place not inked in blackness.  Behind him the considerable heat from the engine’s coal-burning firebox washed over Reese, causing him to already begin sweating.

Losing patience, the Russian grabbed the front of Reese’s jacket with one blackened hand and pulled him down in front of him.

“What do you want?”

Reese removed the Russian’s hand from his coat and used his thumb to motion behind him.

“We were wondering why you’re slowing the train down.”

The Russian nodded and then turned to point at a small metallic box with four red lights on top of it.  One of the lights was blinking.

“Trouble.  Something ahead of us on the track.  That signal tells me if track is clear or not.  Track is not clear.  Two miles ahead, not clear.  We stop, walk up, and find out why.”

Without waiting for Reese to respond to the information, the Russian turned fully around and pulled back a lever that applied yet more brake pressure, causing the train’s speed to slow even further.  Within minutes, the train stopped completely.

The Russian jumped from the locomotive and began making his way to the back of the train as Reese followed him.

Mac and the others had already exited the passenger car and met the Russian halfway.  Both Mac and Bear were holding drawn handguns.  Cooper stood just behind them with Brando sitting at his side. 

“Something blocking the track up ahead.  Need to go see what it is.  Could be trap. Could be nothing.  Bring guns.”

Having given his reason for stopping, the Russian turned around and began walking back toward the front of the train as Mac nodded toward the passenger car.

“Get the rifles Bear, and an extra magazine for each one.  Also make sure we all have our communicators in case we’re separated, and grab the sight scope too.  We’ll follow this Russian down the track to see whatever is bothering him, but if things go to shit, then we are on our own.  You follow my lead - my orders.  Understood?”

Everyone in the group nodded.  Bear climbed back into the passenger car and then re-emerged a few minutes later carrying two M16 rifles they had taken with them from Cooper’s arsenal back at his ranch.  As Bear was stepping down from the passenger car, the Russian was returning to the group with his own AK-47 under his arm.

Mac shook his head and pointed to the Russian’s rifle.

“Over the years I’ve heard so many people tell me the AK is the better weapon.  No way, no how.  Slower shooting, less accurate, and not nearly as reliable as the word of mouth makes it out to be.  I’ll be carrying one of those American-made M16s, thank you very much.”

The Russian looked down at his rifle and then over at Mac as he took one of the M16s from Bear.

“AK-47 a better gun.  More powerful.  Russian.  You’re holding a toy gun.”

Cooper Wyse checked both of his Colt shooters, before returning them to their holsters.

“I’d just as soon not need to use any of them.”

The Russian looked back toward the train tracks and motioned for the others to follow him.

“Ok – let’s go.”

For twenty minutes the group walked slowly down the train tracks as the front of the locomotive disappeared behind them.  There was no sign of anything amiss, but the farther the group walked, the more intensely Mac’s eyes stared out in front of them.

The Russian continued to appear almost bored, his eyes looking down at his feet as he stepped along the dark, oil stained wood railroad ties that lay between the tracks.

Dublin was the first to point out potential trouble as her eyes caught a glint of something well in front of them.  She could not tell if it was metallic, or glass, but her eyes definitely spotted it momentarily flashing before disappearing.

Mac had the group stop as he scanned the area trying to determine the best way to sneak up on whatever might be ahead of them.  He took out the sight scope Bear had retrieved from the train and used it to look down the tracks.

“Tracks bend to the left up ahead, so I can’t see farther than that.  We’re going to go off the tracks here, walk along them on the right keeping our heads down.  That way the rise in the ground where the tracks are will provide us at least a little cover and protection if we need it.

The Russian shook his head while continuing to walk down the center of the tracks.

“I don’t hide.  I’ll go to see what is up there.  You can come.  You can stay here.  I don’t care either way.”

Mac was about to object but then changed his mind.  The Russian would likely divert the attention of whatever was up ahead, and allow them a great chance of sneaking up on them from another direction.

“Ok – let him go.  We’ll do just like I said.  Head down there, Keep to the right of the tracks, and see what’s what.”

The group walked no more than a hundred more yards before Mac began to cough repeatedly.  He continued moving forward and waved the rest of the group on.

“Come on…keep going.”

Cooper Wyse put his hand on Mac’s shoulder to get the older man to stop.

“You keep coughing like that Mac and everyone within a square mile will hear us coming.”

Mac’s eyes flashed angrily before realizing Cooper was right.

“I know – just give me a second to catch my breath here.  Can’t seem to shake this cold, or whatever it is.  I’ll be fine.”

The group waited another minute and then Mac began walking again.

“Ok, I’m good.  Let’s go.”

The top of the Russian’s head could be seen above the tracks as he casually walked in front of the group about forty yards ahead.  He was whistling.

A shout issued from directly in front of the Russian.  It was in Arabic.  Mac cocked his head to the left and then told the others that whoever was up ahead on the tracks intended to take all goods from the train.

The Russian stopped and replied in his own native tongue, causing the Arabic voice to scream back angrily in response. The Russian in turn replied in English.

“I don’t speak your language.  Speak English, or shut up and get off of my train tracks!”

Silence from the Arabic speaking voice followed the Russian’s words.  This silence was then shattered as several rounds of gunfire rang out.  Yakov felt a moment of pressure in the top portion of his left shoulder and looked down to see a small bullet hole having ripped through the exterior of his heavy wool jacket.  This pressure was soon followed by a increasingly throbbing pain.

He had been shot.

“Ok.  You want to play with guns?  Yakov show you how to play with guns!”

The Russian aimed the AK-47 in front of him and fired several rounds back in the direction of the Arabic speaking voice.  As he did that, Mac and the others sprinted forward on the left side of the train tracks, crouching down in the hopes of staying out of view.  Mac hoped that the Russian was smart enough to not point his weapon in their direction.

Everyone in the group looked up in shock as the Russian raced by on the train tracks above them, still firing his gun, a wide smile flashing beneath his massive beard as his long black and grey hair flew out behind him.  Mac rolled his eyes at Yakov’s overly aggressive attack.

“Damn Russians.”

A large explosion sounded no more than twenty yards behind the group. Everyone looked back to see the detonation rise up into the sky.  Mac’s jaw set as he motioned the group forward again.

“Grenade.  The Russian is damn lucky they don’t know how to throw.”

More back and forth rifle fire sounded in front of them.  The Russian was jamming another magazine into his AK-47 as he glanced to his left and then waved his right arm forward.