Echoes of Dark and Light (5 page)

But as I reached for the door rung, a loud explosion erupted. My heart skidded to a painful stop, but before I could react, the train lurched and I crashed to the floor, sliding into a pile of crates.

“What the—”

I struggled against the invisible force pressing me to the floor, managing to scramble onto my hands and knees, and crawled drunkenly back to the door. A loud screeching raked my ears, and as I forced the door opened, a fiery mist of sparks showered up from the friction of the wheels frantically braking against the rails.

I peered ahead, scanning the train that traveled along a curving section of rail, leading up to a deep ravine crossing. Drifting black smoke trailed up from the blazing remains of the bridge now burning far below on the ravine floor. And despite braking with all its heart, the train wouldn’t be able to stop in time.

“Damn,” I whispered, my eyes wide with shock. My mind began to race as fast as my heart, and I had to mentally reach out and latch onto a thought in order pinpoint just one
. I have to get off this train!

I spun around and grabbed a hold of my pack. I struggled back to the doorway, pulling on the straps as I went. Beyond the nerve-clenching screech of the wheels on rails, I could hear the frantic yelling and screaming coming from the passenger cars. I latched a steel grip on the door and glanced down at the rushing ground below me. In the train’s swaying shadows, I could see the brakeman running down the length of the train’s roof, stopping at each car to manually throw the brakes, futile though the effort seemed. My stomach lurched at the thought of leaping from the doomed train, but it didn’t appear as if I had much choice. I spotted a grassy bank quickly approaching, a relatively soft landing compared to the rocky ground we passed over now. Seconds remained, and I took the leap. I hit the ground hard, knocking the breath from my lungs, and jarring my muscles and bones. Sliding to a painful stop, I scrambled to my knees just in time to witness the massive steam engine reach the edge of the ravine. I watched in horror as the locomotive seemed to reach out and hover in mid air before gravity slowly pulled her down into the abyss. Another explosion split the air, and another, and another, as each car tumbled over the edge and crashed in the ravine until the train came to a shuddering halt. Five cars remained on the tracks, and two hung vertically into the gorge, suspended above the burning wreckage.

“Damn,” I whispered again, trying to force air back into my lungs.

Screams echoed into the valley as confused and terrified passengers quickly exited the remaining cars on the rails. I stared in horror at the passenger car hanging precariously above the burning remains of the train. Arms waved wildly though the broken windows and frightened faces yelled for help. I climbed to my feet in a bit of a daze, and scrambled back up to the tracks. I shuffled along, edging through the panicked passengers evacuating the train. Stumbling to the edge of the ravine, I felt sick to my stomach for the people who had died in the explosions, and even worse for the people who would surely follow when the suspended cars lost their connections and dropped into the burning ravine. I didn’t want to wait around and witness those deaths. Besides, I had my own problems. I resettled the straps of my pack and turned to leave when another sound caught my attention.

Cheering?

I glanced around, looking for the source. There, across the ravine! A group of fifty or so men dressed in varying shades of brown and gray stood on the opposite rim throwing their hats in the air, waving their muskets, laughing, celebrating. Confederate soldiers. They’d blown the bridge in an act of war, to keep supplies from reaching the Union troops. They didn’t seem to care that they’d purposely killed innocent children and old people…had tried to kill me.

A bitter taste flooded my mouth and an anger burned hot in my chest. So that’s what war did to people, calloused them, filled them with hate, burned their souls. A child’s cry broke my gaze with the celebrating Rebels, and I turned to see a little boy trying to crawl out of the suspended passenger car window, reaching for his hysterical mother who stood a few feet from me. I drew in a haggard breath with determination.
I won’t let war do that to me!

I tossed my pack in the brush, checked on my knife securely stashed in my boot, and then began traversing down the rocky hillside to the bottom of the ravine.

A hand reached out and clamped onto my arm.

A stooped, gray-haired fellow stood above me, blood oozing from a cut over his eye. “Trust me, son, you shouldn’t go down there. You’ll only get yourself killed as well.”

“I don’t know you, so excuse me for not heeding your advice,” I grumbled through clenched teeth. Shrugging off his grip, I hurried down into the fiery ravine.

Black smoke bellowed hot and thick, burning my lungs as I scrambled down through the greenbrier and raspberry canes growing wild and dense on the slope. I studied the enflamed scene through waves of heat and watering eyes, and found the Confederates had succeeded in blowing up the majority of the bridge. The only part left standing, and my intended rescue route, was the northern half of the wooden support trestle, mere feet from the dangling train car of passengers yelling for help. I had to work fast; the growing fire would soon engulf the trestle as well, not to mention that the weakening connections between the suspended cars wouldn’t hold out much longer.

I gave the fire a wide berth, trying not to look at the burning gravesite, though my morbid curiosity couldn’t help a quick glance. I made out the remains of the steam engine, and noticed the burnt corpse of a rail worker hanging out of the smashed metal wreckage. My stomach turned at the crispy black flesh that minutes before had been a living human face.

Pushing the image out of my mind, I found myself at the base of the trestle looking up, up, up at the hundred and twenty-foot structure towering before me. I could barely see the passenger car, blocked from view by the cargo car hanging below it. Then with a start, I recognized the boxcar as mine, my home for the past couple weeks! A cold sweat broke out over my body at the ordeal I’d managed to escape. Then an object fell from the sky, narrowly missing my head. I glanced at the black buckle shoe lying at my feet, and then followed its path back to the owner; a young woman had backed out of the window, her bare foot reaching blindly behind her for the edge of the trestle, wavering at least three feet out of reach.

“Hey, lady! Hold on! I’m coming to help!” I yelled, though I had no idea if she could hear me above the roaring fire, the screaming people and my heart thundering in my ears.

I had to jump in order to grab a hold of the first cross beams. Pulling myself up with my arms, I managed to hook my leg over the beam and swing up to a sitting position. I scrambled to my feet, reaching for the next level of cross beams. As I worked my way up, the space between sections lessened until I could easily reach the next level instead of jumping. I tried to ignore both the jabbing splinters lodging in the flesh of my palms and the waves of heat licking at my boots.
Almost there…

Ninety feet above the ravine floor, I came alongside of the passenger car. About fifteen people crowded around the bottom window facing the trestle. The same woman still blocked the exit with her rear end, her feet blindly searching for a foot hold while the trapped mob behind her screamed and hollered, threatening to push her out of the way.

“Hey!” I yelled. “Quiet up, and listen!”

The voices dropped off, finally taking notice of me.

“Okay, we don’t have a lot of time, but if we panic, we’re all dead! Now lady, you’re gonna have to turn around; you’ll never make the leap that way.”

The other passengers on board helped the lady back into the window, working together in a calmer fashion now that someone had offered a whisper of hope. While impatiently waiting for the lady to decipher everyone’s differentiated directions, I glanced nervously below at the advancing fire. Then, surprised, I found something else advancing as well – a crowd of passengers and rail workers! They hurried, sliding and falling, down the steep hill, skirted the billowing wreckage and gathered around the base of the trestle. In groups of two and three, they started climbing, spacing themselves out along the various levels. Help had arrived.

The lady finally reemerged, sitting on the sill, feet dangling over the edge. Her eyes, wide and rolling, jerked from my face to the ground below to the open space between the train and the trestle.

“Okay lady, great! Now, what you need to do is stoop in the windowsill and then jump over to me—”

“What? Are you crazy?” Her shrill voice cracked with fear.

“Probably, but that has nothing to do with this. You jump and I’ll catch you—”

“I can’t do that! I’ll fall!”

“Maybe,” I replied honestly, “but if you don’t try, you
will
fall, along with all those folks stuck behind you. Now, come on!”

“No,” she broke into tears, “I can’t; I’m afraid!”

My patience started wearing through and I sighed in exasperation. Then I noticed movement just below me and I gave a nod of thanks to the gray-haired, soot-covered rail worker who clung to the next lower beams, waiting to help.

“Look lady, there’s a bunch of guys come to help you climb down; you’re gonna be fine, but we need to move quickly.”

She brushed away the tears streaming down her face, smearing dirt across her flushed cheeks. “Okay, okay. But first, promise me you’ll not let me fall!”

The trapped people behind the woman had lost any of the camaraderie of before, and started threatening once again to push her out of the way. And if she didn’t hurry up, I would help them. As for her request, I hesitated to make a promise I didn’t absolutely know I could fulfill, so I prepared to gloss over her request.

Then a loud screech etched the air and everyone froze, except for our eyes, which as one, slowly and cautiously rose to where the car had a tenacious hold to the train above. The coupling wouldn’t hold much longer.

“Jump!” everyone yelled at once.

She clamped her eyes shut tight, started screaming, and leapt from the train window.

She jumped short. Time seemed to crawl into slow motion. I latched a steel grip onto the trestle and leaned out, way out, clamping a hold of her flailing hand. I caught her, letting her falling weight swing into an arc, my injured shoulder shrieking in protest, all the while her screams echoing off the surrounding ravine walls. Almost instantly, our hands started to sweat, and I knew I couldn’t hold on much longer, yet she just hung there, her eyes shut tight, still bloody screaming!

“Lady,” I yelled, “would you stop screaming and climb onto the trestle?”

Thankfully, she abruptly stopped screaming, but replaced it instead with a monotonous chant of prayer “Helpmehelpmehelpmehelpme…”

The rail worker below me grabbed a hold of her around the waist and pulled her safely to the trestle. I released my slipping grip on her hand, and she threw her arms around the fellow’s neck in a death clench, almost causing them both to fall. The worker pried her fingers loose and the forced her down to the fellow waiting on the next level. One passenger on her way to safety, fourteen to go. I turned back to the dangling rail car.

The next passenger squatted in the window, ready and waiting. The seventy or so-year-old woman with her pinned-on hat hanging askew, wore a determined gleam in her eye, shadowed with just a hint of fear. I held out my hand and she didn’t hesitate. Her jump landed solid and true, and I only had to steady her landing with a hand on her arm.

“Thank you, young man,” she gave me a somewhat wobbly smile, revealing almost toothless gums, before reaching down to the rail worker’s waiting hands.

A young boy, maybe eight, jumped next. His enthusiasm deserved honors, if not his aim, and I had to reach out and snatch him around the waist in order to land him safely. One after another, the passengers made their escape. My muscles started aching and twitching with fatigue, but I couldn’t quit, not yet.

“How many more?” yelled the rail worker below me, glancing nervously at the approaching fire.