Ghost Train M7 ATF/ OW
The members of the ATF team known as 'The Magnificent Seven' inspected themselves carefully. They were staying in an impressive guest cabin at a ranch several hours from Denver that had been booked for them by Assistant Director Travis. They had just completed a long case that had involved their undercover agent and sniper being gone for several months, and Orin had felt that it would be beneficial for all of them to spend some time together to get back into their normal skins, so to speak. Especially since leader Chris Larabee had played a particularly cold and dangerous gun buyer and had ended up having to fight his own men at the bust to preserve their alias' in case they were needed for future use. While Ezra and Vin understood why Chris had done what he had, Travis still figured some time de-stressing was a good idea. That would usually have been done at Larabee's own ranch, but it was too close to the office in the AD's opinion. The boys were often tempted to 'help out' or otherwise jump back into work if they stayed close to home.
The lady who owned the guest cabin with her husband had welcomed the men cordially and been incredibly generous, letting them use the horses, fixing and delivering meals for them, and pretty much letting them have the run of the place since they were the only guests at the moment. She also provided period clothing for any visitors who were interested in experiencing the old buildings and other attractions on the property in authentic style. All seven of the team members were old west aficionados and Tanner had discovered some time ago that he liked photography, so they had all decided to take the woman up on her offer of proper attire to explore the various areas. They'd already spent an afternoon at the small 'town' behind their cabin, inspecting the livery stable, saloon, barbershop, mercantile, and stage station with its large Wells-Fargo coach out front. They'd had a steak dinner, played some cards in the saloon, Chris and Buck had done a gunfight, and Vin, JD, Buck, and Ezra had even had an impromptu horse race, all alternating taking pictures to record the events. Each had felt almost as if they belonged in the time period, like they had experienced the actions numerous times before.
They were now planning to take the horses and search for a few old train cars that had been abandoned back toward the mountains that edged the ranch. They all thought that it would be a neat setting for some more photos and something interesting to investigate.
Deciding they all looked quite in character, they ambled to the stable to saddle the mounts and then swung aboard gracefully and took off in the direction the owner had indicated when she told them about the train. They rode leisurely, taking almost an hour to reach the back of the ranch, enjoying the wild-flowers scattered over the foot high grass and the blue-tinted hills that got closer as they rode. A mule deer raised her head as they passed, but when they offered no danger, she just went back to grazing. Pausing at a spring, they let the horses drink and got down for a few minutes to inspect the rocks that ringed the space. Standish happily picked up a few garnets that sparkled near the water and JD grinned when he spotted what looked like a tiny vein of silver in one of the larger stones, borrowing Chris' pocket knife to flake off a couple of pieces. Already pleased with the excursion, they remounted and continued their quest.
Vin found the steam engine and passenger coaches after only about twenty minutes more of riding. The train cars sat as the landlady had described them. Approximately a quarter to a half-mile of rusty track was visible among the grass and wildflowers. The lady and her husband had repainted the engine and cars and though weathered somewhat, the locomotive still gleamed a rich ebony and the Pullmans were done in red and black with banks of windows that glinted in the afternoon sun. A nest of boulders and small trees and bushes sat a distance behind the track with another spring located to the rear and the base of the mountain approximately another quarter of a mile away.
The group pulled up in the trees and got down. They let the horses drink again and then tethered the animals nearby so they could graze. Dusting off their clothes, they looked around in interest.
Chris was every inch the dangerous gunman in his tight ebony pants with the silver buckle at the back, dark red cotton shirt with its half placket, black duster, hat, and silver-trimmed ebony leather gunbelt and spur harnesses. Dark leather gloves gleamed in complement to the ebony boots, and his gaze was an icy green. The bone-handled Colt rested high on his hip.
The others were equally impressive. Ezra was resplendent in a red jacket and dark pinstriped pants worn with a snowy ruffled shirt, brocade vest, silk cravat, black boots, and gambler's hat. All three of his chosen weapons were in place and he popped out the derringer just to check the mechanism, gold tooth gleaming as it worked perfectly.
Vin sported tan pants and a dark red calico shirt worn with brown boots, spurs, his tan caped leather coat and cavalry hat. The mare's leg rested comfortably at his side and a wide smile curved his lips as he took in their surroundings.
Buck was in tan pants, a red print shirt and bandana, brown boots with spurs, tan hip-length plainsman coat and hat. The dark brown leather gunbelt held his wooden-handled Colt .45, which he took out and twirled absently and then dropped back into place.
JD sported the brown tweed three-piece suit and cream shirt that the landlady had given him and the bowler hat that caused Buck so much pain. Short brown leather boots covered his feet and the dual-holstered brown gunbelt sat around his hips with the Colt Lightning pistols in place. He stood with his hands resting on the butt of the guns as if ready for action.
Josiah was attired in blue pants with a gold stripe down the outside seams and a blue calico shirt with his hip-length tan coat with its striped blanket yolks. Dusty brown leather boots encased his feet and the matching gunbelt held his pistol in its left-hand draw position. The tan ten-gallon hat sat comfortably on his head and the pale eyes turned toward their objective with an intrigued expression.
Nathan was wearing the blue pants and tan shirt that he'd been supplied. A tan-brown-and-red striped wool jacket rested over the shirt, and brown leather boots and a black felt hat rounded out the look. The brown leather gunbelt and holster in its cross-draw position and a new leather knife sheath fastened to his back completed his ensemble.
"Ready?" Chris asked quietly.
The other six nodded.
"Alright. Let's go catch the train."
With grins, the seven strode across the calf-high grass to the restored rail cars and engine.
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The locomotive was impressive up close with its pot-bellied smokestack and cowcatcher at front and the coal car attached behind. The paintjob was dusty, but still a deep black that gleamed when the sun hit it just right. The lens in the brass lantern at the front glinted in the light as well, as did the many glass windows in the red and black passenger cars located behind the coal tender.
The group took pictures around the engine, both standing next to it and some with them on top and inside, as well as shots of the train alone. They then moved to enter the passenger cars. The wooden floors were sturdy and polished, though dusty, and the seats were rather elegant upholstered in red leather as they were. Red plush drapes hung open at the windows and the wooden paneling and ceilings gleamed nicely in the sunlight. Brass lanterns hung on the walls and from the roof and brass railings provided handholds at the front and rear. As they entered the first car, the words to Marty Robbins' old song "Ghost Train" flitted through Vin's mind.
"Clickity-clack along the track, it's boiler showin' red
As on it comes along the rusty rails
People that are ridin' in the cars have long been dead
Lost in time along the Phantom Trail"
When he softly sang the third verse almost to himself, the others stopped and listened as they looked around and then nodded.
"It does seem almost ghostly, doesn't it?" Buck murmured quietly.
"Yeah, especially with us dressed like we are." Nathan agreed.
"It does indeed seem as if we've gone back in time." Josiah intoned solemnly.
"Jeanette and her husband did a good job of restoring the engine and cars." Chris' voice was approving, but a bit hushed in respect to the atmosphere.
"Indeed. The effect is quite authentic and a bit spectral as well. One can imagine how the cowboy of the song Mr. Tanner alluded to felt." Ezra's tones were muted also.
"You can almost hear the steam hissin' and the squeak of the wheels as they get ready to pull out…" Vin mused softly, head tilted to one side as if he did indeed detect the sounds he mentioned.
JD broke the somewhat reverent spell with his boisterous movement as he plopped into one of the seats.
"Heck, I think it's cool!"
The others shook their heads just a bit to dispel the cobwebs and then nodded.
"We didn't say we didn't think it was neat, Kid. Just felt a little weird when we first stepped onboard." Buck swatted absently at the younger man's bowler. It was so much a habit now that he didn't always even realize he was doing it. JD ducked with practiced ease.
"I'm gettin' so used to it that I expect it now, I guess." The kid responded as he turned to stretch out across the double seats, back leaning against the windowed outer wall. Vin snapped a couple of pictures of the relaxed easterner and then of Buck as the lanky gunman folded himself down in the row behind JD.
"Yeah, it is getting' to be a pretty familiar feelin'." Nathan agreed, settling in on the other side from Buck and the kid. Josiah joined him, stretching his long legs under the seat in front as far as he could. Tanner got shots of the pair looking perfectly at home. Since there were no power lines or anything modern anywhere in sight and not even any jet contrails visible in the sky at the moment, the effect was indeed as if they'd shed 150 years.
The rest of the group slowly found seats and settled in as well. The sharpshooter got several evocative photos and then stepped over Chris' legs to take the seat next to the dark form. Larabee took the camera and snapped a few shots of Vin and then the others from his perspective, as did Josiah and Ezra. The sharpshooter even found a few old, empty suitcases and boxes that the landlady had left to enhance the atmosphere, so he stacked them at the front and made a platform to place the camera and their phones on so that they could get two or three group shots on self-timer. The cases barely came to the top of the seats, so the pictures provided a rather unique view of the 'passengers' from slightly below eye level, since Vin had propped them so that the lens' pointed up a bit to get everyone's faces. The effect was actually quite intriguing, especially in the ones where the men were looking somewhat down at the camera.
Done with those, they moved on to individual pictures of each other seated, moving down the aisle, carrying the period luggage, standing in the doorways, etc. There were snaps of Buck and JD picking on each other; Ezra enticing some of his companions into a 'game of chance' and dexterously manipulating his cards across his knuckles; Chris standing guard at the rear of the car and then resting with one booted foot up on a seat and his arm on his bent knee as he leaned forward a bit to peer out of the windows, other hand on his pistol; Vin watching the front doors, mare's leg in his hands and blue eyes distant; and Josiah and Nathan sharing a flask of whisky and chatting companionably as they looked out of the glass beside them.
The men then enacted various fight, robbery, and defense scenes, taking turns playing the bad guys and taking photos. The expressions, clothes, guns, and setting made the images seem very realistic. Buck and Chris were particularly believable, as expected. The gunfighter persona was so intense that the lean blond's demeanor caused a few shivers up spines, even though those watching knew him.
When they exhausted the limited possibilities inside the first car, the group moved outside again. There they did pics of each other standing on the steps of the train cars, on the landing between the two passenger cars, at the rear of the second one, beside the train, etc. Vin, Ezra, Buck, and JD climbed to the top of the cars and sat on the roof for a few shots, the tracker especially looking quite at home silhouetted against the blue sky.
That done, Chris and Buck were easily coaxed into coming up with a gunfight routine using the train as a backdrop. Vin took still shots while Ezra videoed the action. The rest of the men then joined in a quick scene, appearing to fight off attackers as Vin snapped pics on the action setting. Josiah took the camera next so that the tracker could be included in a tableau with Chris, Ezra, and Buck.
By the time they finished, the sun was lowering to the west. Vin was taking a few pics of the gold and red hues spreading across the sky when he cocked his head. Chris paused and tilted his as well as both men listened intently.
Buck looked at them in query. "What's up fellas?"
"Don't ya hear that?" asked Tanner as he swiveled to look all around them.
JD began peering to each side as well. "Hear what?"
"Sounds like horses… and not ours. These are movin' like they're bein' ridden." answered Larabee softly as the hazel gaze searched for the source of the noise. Nothing was immediately visible however.
The rest of the men got quiet as they strained to hear whatever the blond and sharpshooter heard. Hands instinctively went to rest lightly on their gun handles as they all turned to inspect the area around them.
Ezra dipped his head after a minute. "Yes, I hear it now also. Faint, but gettin' louder…like several mounts."
Buck nodded too. "Yep, sounds like they're comin' closer…"
Tanner moved to the steps at the back of the train cars and climbed up so he could stand on the top and get a better distance view. JD scampered up behind him. Chris glanced up at the pair.
"See anything?"
"Yeah, looks like seven riders, but they're kinda hazy…"
JD agreed. "It's weird… they're just sorta shadowy."
"Comin' here?" inquired Larabee.
The landlady had been specific that they were the only guests on the ranch at the moment, and while she and her husband kept horses, there weren't any other employees.
"Can't say for sure." was the vaguely confused answer from Vin.
Josiah and Nathan now looked up at the duo on the roof. The tracker was almost never at a loss as to what was happening if he had someone in his sights.
"Can ya be a little more specific, Tanner?" asked Chris with a bit of concern.
"Would if I could, Cowboy. But it's hard t' tell. They're blendin' in with the shadows at the base of the mountain, makin' it kinda tough to see 'em real well."
Now curious, the blond carefully climbed up, crouching so that he wasn't outlined against the sky too much. Standish, Wilmington, Sanchez, and Jackson spread out a bit and took cover behind the engine and coal car just in case.
Stopping next to Vin, Chris looked where the other man pointed. Seven riders were barely visible as they moved in and out of the blue haze at a distance. As the trio watched, the dark forms disappeared totally for a few minutes. When they reappeared, they were much closer… more so than normal travel would account for. Larabee rested his hand on his Colt, but for some reason he didn't actually have a gut feeling that they were in any danger.
A few moments later, the figures came into better view. Still a bit hazy, it was now possible to distinguish their basic outlines. The one in front sported a caped coat and cavalry hat. Long hair brushed the broad shoulders and a cut-off rifle like the tracker's rested on his right thigh. His horse was a black with a white blaze that showed plainly among the shadows.
The next form was lean and powerful and appeared attired mostly in black. A flat-crowned hat similar to Chris' rested on his head and a dark duster floated gently around his ebony mount's flanks. Silver caught the sunset light, glittering on the form's spurs and gunbelt. The gaze was piercing under the brim of the headgear and danger radiated off of the impressive figure, but again Larabee felt no active threat to them. In fact, a strange feeling of kinship enveloped him, as if he knew the dark rider and what he would do.
A tall form on a big dapple gray trotted behind, a plainsman hat like Wilmington's silhouetted against the colorful sky. A light-hued jacket covered the wide shoulders and a gunbelt was slanted across the trim hips. The face was a little hazy, but a dark mustache seemed to grace the attractive mouth and the eyes appeared to be a deep blue that almost had a glow to them as the figure turned toward the watching men. A shiver of recognition skittered over the ladies' man's skin at the sight.
Beside the lanky rider was a much smaller form on a lively bay. A bowler rested on his head, dark straight hair falling underneath. What seemed to be a three-piece suit similar to the one JD wore covered his body, and a pistol rested on each side, visible where the jacket was pushed back behind the butts. As the agents watched entranced, the taller figure next to him leaned over to swat at the hat in a way that was familiar to all. Dunne's eyes got huge as he took the forms in.
Two large figures rode behind, one in a ten-gallon hat worn with a hip-length jacket that appeared to have striped yolks. The gun was positioned for a left-hand draw and the well-muscled form rode a bit slouched in the saddle, one forearm resting on the horn.
The other was tall and well-built as well, a dark hat with a round crown situated on his head and a jacket straining over the broad shoulders. His pistol was fixed for a cross-draw and what looked like knife-handles were barely visible just below his neck.
Bringing up the rear and guarding their back trail was a dapper figure in a black riverboat hat and swallow-tailed coat that reflected the red hues of the setting sun. A large caliber gun rested on his right side and a ring glinted in the light as he popped out a shiny derringer from a sleeve rig. Another pistol was visible in a holster under his left arm when his jacket swung open. A flash of gold was revealed when the attractive mouth curved in a wide smile as the dexterous fingers pushed the small hideout back into its spot. Standish instinctively glanced down at where his own version rested, a strange feeling of familiarity overtaking him.
Before any of the team members responded, the seven shadowy riders slowed to a stop. The one in front tipped his hat to his counterpart, white teeth showing in a friendly grin. The dark figure behind pushed his hat off, letting it hang down the broad back by the stampede string. Gold hair like Chris' own was revealed, the lowering sun making it gleam in the light. A tiny smile of recognition tilted up one corner of the sculpted lips and the head dipped in acknowledgement of Larabee as the hazel gaze made contact with its twin.
The other mounted forms made similar gestures, sitting easy under the incredulous scrutiny that raked over them. All were alert, but made a point of not making any moves that appeared threatening.
When it became obvious that the riders were like the old west incarnations of themselves and meant them no harm, Vin grabbed his camera and quickly snapped a couple of shots. The riders in effect posed for him, then dipped their heads again. The agents own voices came to them as the figures murmured various farewells, the old west Vin warning his modern version about a couple of holes that would be hard to see in the twilight. The copy of Chris' soft tones then said "Alright boys, let's ride". He pulled his hat back up and settled it on his blond head, then two fingers touched the brim as he made eye contact one last time with his matching image. Swinging around, he touched his spurs lightly to his gelding's flanks, the horse taking off at a trot. The rest followed, all of them waiting by the spring for the other seven to make their way to their mounts. Bemused, but aware that they needed to leave in order to get back before it got totally dark, the modern figures walked to their horses and swung aboard.
As they made their way back, their alter-egos rode alongside for a ways. When they got in sight of the old town buildings behind the cabin, the now almost indistinguishable forms beside them tipped their hats, then as the team members watched, they just disappeared into the shadows. As they did so, the lonesome sound of a train whistle floated to them on the now still air that presaged the coming storm.
After gaping a bit, the seven urged their steeds toward the barn. When they turned to glance to their left, a light seemed to appear for a moment in the old saloon, with the dark figures of their former companions backlit as they seemed to enter the establishment. The sounds of a piano and laugher came to them for a second. A distant flash of lightning then lit the area, with no one visible at all and the interior of the hazy building dark and quiet.
Open mouths snapped shut, and several sets of shoulders moved just a bit as an eerie sensation skittered over them, then each man coaxed his horse to a faster pace. Arriving at the stables, they all quickly unsaddled and rubbed their mounts down, Tanner and Dunne putting out grain when they were done. The seven forms then clustered fairly close together as they strode to the cabin, the lights gleaming reassuringly as they stepped up onto the front porch.
Entering, they quietly made their way to the kitchen to get something to snack on. Taking the food and drinks to the dining room, they settled at the large wooden table in unaccustomed silence. After they'd eaten a few bites, Vin got his camera out with a curiosity that he couldn't control. Turning it on, he pulled up the pics on the small screen.
Chris looked at him, not sure if he actually wanted to know the answer or not. "Did we see what we think we did?"
Turning the device around, the sniper showed them all the hazy photos of their old west incarnations.
"Yep."
Buck shook his head. "So it wasn't a group hallucination…"
The sandy head shook. "Nope."
No one spoke as they just stared at each other for a minute.
Apparently there was more here than just the physical engine, cars, and town...
As they each thought that, Vin got up to peer through the blinds at the old buildings, Chris prowling over behind him. A streak of lightning illuminated the tall figure of the western version of the gunfighter as he stood in between the batwing doors of the saloon looking their direction. Even that far away, they thought they saw him dip his head to them, then the faint sound of a distant whistle came to them again on the night air, the 'ghost train' apparently making another run….
By DMA