Twitch and Die!

Ch.13: The Shadows

Downtown Thurber resembled an old-timer’s toothless grin. Violent contests had splintered doors and shattered windows and left piles of rubble scattered throughout. The hotel remained the tallest building in town, roughly equal to the largest smokestack at the kiln. The towering brick walls bore the pockmarks of continuous gunfire. Above the upper floor windows, the porous surface had been scorched and discolored by smoke.

Chancho stood motionless in the road below, gazing upward at its dizzying height. The structure’s shattered windows—gaping mouths and staring eyes—oppressed him. The brick and mortar came to life, mocking his weakness. Failure. Foreigner. Dreamer. The situation was spinning out of his grasp. And exactly when he needed Chloe’s steadying force the most, she’d joined the accusing voices. He was alone on a fool’s errand.

A movement near the ground caught his attention. He lowered his gaze to see Chloe and Angelo focused on the Black Diamond Locomotive straddling Main Street. On the hitch between the engine and its tender stood the little boy. After staring for several seconds, he disappeared through the gap.

No one made any effort to hail him. Whether a good omen or bad, it seemed the boy had become their ever-watching mascot. Currently, his presence had served to anchor Chancho’s attention earthward toward the Black Diamond.

Still on the rails, the locomotive had been left downtown, connected to its tender and a single passenger car. He imagined Vezzoni or some other important individual filling the people with hopeful lies from its back landing moments before abandoning them to a brutal fate. But why wouldn’t the train have been evacuated along with the leadership of the mine?

Angelo hailed them from the back of the passenger car.

“You were wondering why the boss would have left his train?”

Chancho’s eyes widened at Angelo’s continued astuteness. “Si, compadre.”

“Sabotage. Look at these scorch marks.” Angelo indicated a wide-ranging area of burns on the ties, the gravel beneath the tracks and the back of the car.

Chloe knelt. “Don’t you think this could have been done since?”

“He’s right.” Chancho slid beneath the passenger car. “The scarring is mostly underneath. There’s shrapnel embedded in the ties.”

“A bomb.”

Chancho scooted out from under the train. “A booby trap.”

Chloe scowled at him. “That sounds awful sophisticated.”

Chancho focused on the narrative unfolding before them. He wasn’t at the beginning of the story, and he wasn’t alone after all. “Even before Vezzoni left town, someone knew he was responsible.” Chancho dusted himself off, looking Angelo in the eyes. “Who does that sound like to you?”

“Serge. He would know how to build something like this. We blasted plenty of rock together.”

Chancho started toward the front of the train. “Keep an eye out. I want to check something.”

Chloe tried to stop him, “What’s up with you and trains?”

He didn’t answer. Giving a wide birth to the entrance of the passenger car, he stared into it as he passed. The steps were clear of debris and clean of settling ash. With a shudder he continued toward the engine.

Leaping up the stairs, memory briefly transported him to the last time he’d been behind the controls of a steam engine, with near-tragic results. He forced the accusing voices beneath the surface. This time would be different. He wouldn’t take Chloe and Angelo for granted. He would put their needs first.