Chapter 13. Pursuit
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Jim felt a chill run down his spine as he lost his footing against the wall. His body swung out again, away from the side of the train, hung from his ensnared sleeve cuff. He clawed at the wall with his left hand but his fingers found nothing to grasp. His body slammed back as the train car swayed. He managed to get his boot toe back on the plank's knot and braced again against the side of the car. He knew the rocks must be passing the engine by now. He heard the whistle blow, a long, slow blast and prayed he would fit in the space between the cliff and the car. If only the ramp hadn't fallen down. His hair blew in the wind and he watched the ground pass under his feet, almost in slow motion now. The whistle sounded again and he felt his body being wrenched backwards. Something was pulling on the waistband of his pants.
"JIM!"
He heard Artie's voice shriek behind him over the sound of the train. His body was yanked again, this time making it through the doorway. His sleeve tore away as he was pulled inside the car to safety. He fell to the wooden floor, face down in the dirt and hay.
"Stay down!"
He felt Artie collapse onto his back, shielding his body, as the stone cliff suddenly contacted the foreword edge of the downed ramp. An explosion of wood turned into a hail of wooden splinters raining down onto the men. In an instant, there was silence as the train finally ground to a halt. The car stopped its forward movement and then did its usual jolt backwards as the brakes held the wheels still.
"Artie?" Jim whispered, trying to pick his head up. His body was pinned to the floor, his head and shoulders covered by the dead weight of his partner. "I thought you were dead!" He pushed a hand up, shoving his friend off and rolling him to his side.
"Ow," Artie moaned, his face covered with blood. "I thought you were dead too," he whispered. His voice was weak as he rolled onto his back.
"What the hell happened?" Jim said, quickly climbing to his knees and bending over his friend. He ran fingers through the dark curls, feeling the blood. "Are you shot?"
"No," Artie winced, pulling away from Jim's prying. "Ow," he groaned again, a hand going to this face. "Just bruised, as usual." He shifted his feet and gasped in pain again. "Is there something in my leg?" he asked, trying to see behind his knees.
Jim was searching his partner's bloody clothes for bullet holes. He quickly moved to Artie's legs, "oh, hold on," his whispered, reaching behind a knee to grasp a large splinter of wood that had impaled the back of a thigh. He yanked the bloody shard out and tossed it out of the open doorway as Cobb approached. The engineer stood, opened mouthed, staring at them. "Hey, Cobb. Glad we finally stopped. Ten feet earlier would have been better but I'm sure you did your best."
"I don't know how you did it," Cobb said, staring at Jim. "When I saw you hanging from the doorway back here, I thought you was a gonner for sure this time. And why was the ramp down?" His eyes moved to the remains of the wooden ramp. Only about a foot of ragged wood was still hanging from the large hinges attached to the floor. The ground around the tracks was covered with more splinters. "I have seen everything now, I swear."
"I think you need a doctor," Jim said, helping his partner sit up. "I don't suppose we stopped near a town?" Before Cobb could answer Lori burst into the room at full speed. She paused, as she stepped around the two agents, glaring down at them.
"What the hell happened?" Lori snarled. She snapped open her shotgun, pulled two smoking empty brass shells out and stuffed them in her pocket. She rammed two full shells in and snapped the gun shut as more smoke billowed from the twin barrels. "Why did I just see John running down the tracks?" The two agents exchanged a dark look but stayed silent. She moved to her horse and noticed the ramp was gone. "What happened to the ramp?" She stepped forward and looked down at the ground, pointing, "Could you move those larger pieces? I need to jump my horse down!" Cobb motioned to the fireman, who was standing nearby, and they both began clearing the ground of the larger pieces of destroyed ramp.
Artie looked at Jim, "you better go with her, partner," he sighed. "I'm fine, I just need a few bandages. Christian can do it." He pushed himself into a sitting position as Jim stood up, swaying. "Unless you're injured. How long were you hanging out there? And what were you hanging from, anyway?"
Jim held his right arm up, the cuff was completely gone. "I jumped out, after John, the escape artist, and I guess I snagged my coat." He lowered his arm and rubbed his shoulder with his left hand. "I may have pulled a few muscles but my hand seems to be working." He stood back as Lori turned her white horse, saddled and eager to run, to face the opening of the car. "Wait and I'll come with you."
"Bite me!" Lori jumped into the saddle and kicked the horse's side. The animal leaped clear of the jagged wood, landing on the gravel, and quickly running down the tracks behind the stopped train.
"She seems upset," Artie said, shaking his head as Jim stood, fists on hips watching her disappear. "And well she should. That bastard somehow got out of those handcuffs," he said, staring at the metal cuffs on the floor nearby. The cuffs were clearly still locked shut and attached to the post. "And he jumped me when I had my back turned." He paused as Jim grabbed his saddle and began securing it to the black stallion. His horse stomped its feet and blew, eager to follow the other horse outside.
"I heard the gun go off twice," Jim said, pulling at the leather straps. "I thought it was empty but then he shot at me," he said, shaking his head. "He must have grabbed some shells." He stole a quick glance at a shelf nearby where an open box of shells were. The neat stack was a cluster of brass now, with a few fallen to the floor. "The shots must have kept hitting the ramp latch and block and tackle, releasing the mechanism." He paused to grab the bridle, "at least the shot didn't hit one of the horses."
"Thanks a lot," Artie snapped, as he sat on the floor wiping blood from the end of his nose. Red lines were drizzling from his hair down his face now.
"And luckily not you either," Jim added, looking back at his partner. Christian suddenly burst into the room, her face in a panic. "Get the bandages from the bathroom," Jim said, before she could speak. "Lori and I are going after John. You need to patch Artie back together." The dark haired girl turned and hurried back toward the varnish car without a word. Jim pulled his horse from its stall and moved to the door. Cobb stood nearby, waiting for him. "Cobb, get this train moving before another train comes along and hits it in the ass end. I will meet you at the next town, whatever it is. We can get the ramp fixed and get moving again."
Jim climbed into the saddle as Artie struggled to his feet, swaying on unsteady legs. He staggered a few steps to a wall covered with saddlebags and canteens hanging from hooks. He grabbed a saddlebag and two canteens and stepped to the black horse. "Here, Jim," he said, "This may take longer than you think." He leaned a bloody hand onto Jim's thigh as he raised a shaking handful of equipment to his partner.
Jim grinned, reaching down to grab the supplies. "Always thinking about food," he joked but his worried eyes watched his friend. "Now go get patched up and stay out of trouble while I'm gone." He wrapped the straps around the saddle horn and kicked his horse. The animal leaped out of the doorway and landed on the ground. Jim kicked it again and the horse shot forward, down the tracks, in the direction Lori had taken.
Artie stood by the opening, watching Jim disappear into the scrubby woods to the side of the tracks. He turned to Cobb, "I guess we might as well go now. Stop in a siding where you can and we will let the station know we are behind schedule." Cobb nodded and moved toward the engine.
"Artemus?" Christian stepped to his side, holding a large cloth bag. "Are they gone?" She whispered, "What happened?" Her eyes moved slowly from his face, streaked with blood, down his ragged clothes to the floor covered with wooden splinters. She turned to look at the horses; her palomino and his brown horse were both quietly chewing hay, oblivious of the destruction around them.
Artie let out a long sigh, "I let him get away," he whispered. "He got lose, somehow, and jumped me from behind. My fault," he said, his voice taking a sharp edge. "And now Lori and Jim have to track him through the desert and drag him back."
"Well let's get you fixed up before something else happens," she said, wrapping an arm around his waist. "Lori was so angry. She was running back and forth with her shotgun smoking. I was reading with Mary in Jim's bedroom so there wasn't more hysteria."
Artie snorted, "I guess I'm lucky Lori didn't shoot me. She was pretty mad." They walked slowly back to the varnish car.
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"Look," Mary said, holding up Sophie. Artie opened one eye and squinted at the child sitting in his lap. Sophie was on the dining room table, very patiently pretending to be a patient. "I am putting a bandage on her. She has a bump." Mary slowly wrapped a strip of white cloth around one of the kitten's paws. The kitten tilted her head and meowed, curious about why her foot was disappearing into a white wrapping.
"Poor Sophie," Artie said, patting the girl's head.
"Hold still," Christian said, dabbing a piece of cloth into a bottle of dark liquid and then to cuts on her patient's face, "both of you. This isn't easy patching you up."
"It wasn't easy ending up like this either," Artie said, "it took a few minutes and lots of arguing. He insisted on a shooting wound and I said a bump on the ole noggin was plenty."
"Well luckily," Christian said, leaning over to kiss his cheek, "you won that argument. I wouldn't want to be repairing a shot gun wound."
"What were you and John fighting about anyway," Mary asked, unwrapping Sophie's paw, "I think she has a bump on her tail now." She started to wrap the cloth around the tiny tail but Sophie hopped up and spun around to see what was happening behind her. The girl giggled and looked up at Christian. "My Mom and John used to fight too. He hit her in the face once and her nose was bleeding. I helped patch her up."
Artie exchanged a look with Christian. "Did your Mom ever tell anyone?" he asked. Mary shrugged and turned back to the kitten. "Well," he sighed, smoothing her hair down, "John wanted you to stay with him in California and I said your Mom wanted you to come back to Washington. So then he jumped off the train."
"Lori was mad," Mary said, pointing to the formal, rear door of the car, "she shot her shotgun off the back of the train! It made a big boom and a lot of smoke! She must have been signaling John to stop running away. And then she ran through here and went to where you all were by the horses. We hid in Jim's room and Sophie ran under the bed. I wanted to hide under the bed too," she said, trying again to bandage the tail. The kitten spun around, getting tangled in the strips of cloth.
"You can't fit under the bed," Artie said, teasing the girl. "Hey, John never punched you in the nose, did he?" He kept his voice light, trying to make the question sound like a joke.
"Oh, no," Mary said, "why would he hit me? I'm too small. My Mom said only big people fight."
Artie let out a sigh, "good, glad to hear it. Jim and Lori will be back soon with…" he stopped speaking as shots were heard outside. He rose from the chair, pushing Mary to the floor and under the table in one smooth motion. As he stepped forward, the train's breaks squealed as they engaged and the car shifted, throwing his weight to one side. He and Christian both fell back onto the sideboard, and then forward to the table, as the car shifted again. Regaining his balance, he rushed to the side windows as the train ground to a halt.
"Don't you move this here train!" A man was on horseback, yelling and pointing a revolver at the engine. "We are going inside. I'll leave a man or two out here to make sure this train don't move and I don't want no one getting off it!" Other men spread out, each riding a horse and holding revolvers, some moving forward toward Cobb and others moving to the back of the varnish car.
Artie spun, injuries forgotten, to face Christian. "It's the men from the alley. John's men," he said quickly, leaning down to scoop Mary into his arms. "Mary, we are going to play a game of hide and seek." He hurried down the hall and turned into the lab. The girl clung to his neck as he ran. "I am going to hide you and I don't want you to make a sound. Not a peep until we come get you. Understand?" He knelt on the floor, putting her feet down but keeping one arm around her. He reached into the wall to pull at a hidden latch and pulled out Jim's recessed clothing rack. He pushed the girl onto the rack and pulled clothes around her.
"But what about Sophie?" the tiny voice whispered.
"She's under the couch, it's her favorite spot," Artie said, carefully sliding the rack into the wall. "This will be dark but you should be able to see out through the crack but just don't come out even if you hear yelling. Promise?"
"Ok, I promise," the girl whispered. Her eyes were huge and she squatted on the base of the rack. "Are you going to fight again?"
"I hope not," Artie said, pushing the rack into the wall. Stepping back, he quickly made sure the rack didn't show in the wall. Satisfied, he turned and bumped into Christian.
"Hide," he snapped, "or disappear. It's your specialty, isn't it?" He was already moving into the hall toward the living room again. He pushed through the swinging doors and moved to the sideboard, his hand reaching for the ship with the hidden handguns beneath. Before he could flip the ship model the formal door crashed open.
"Don't move!" The leader pointed his revolver at Artemus as he pushed past the broken door.
Artemus turned to face him, holding his arms outstretched. "Come in, gentlemen, no need to knock." He stepped slowly into the center of the room, keeping the couch between them. If I can only move a few more steps to the right, he thought desperately, as two more gunmen entered the car.
tbc