PART 1:
The smoke cloud had been visible for miles –a thick fist atop a long arm, a telltale for a massive explosion. The telegram came soon afterward: TRAIN ACCIDENT AT STATION RIDGE CITY. CASUALTIES. SEND ASSISTANCE. It had been sent to all surrounding towns, but with a quick follow-up asked particular assistance from Four Corners.
The Seven were known to be of help in bad situations.
But, disasters never come at a convenient time. With JD sick, Nathan tending him, Ezra in Cedar Ridge trying to root out some evidence, and the Sahale trial about to start, they were stretched thin. Chris sent Buck and Josiah, telling them to send word if more help was needed.
They'd ridden hard, knowing that they weren't the closest town to Ridge City. By the time they arrived, the fist of smoke had spread into a cauliflower on a long rope that stretched halfway across the sky.
The town was filled with people, strangers coming in to help and townspeople afraid to stay in their homes. Josiah and Buck and followed the crowded streets toward the train station where the smoke still seeped from the town center. When they took a final turn, they came to a halt.
"Sweet mother of God," Josiah mumbled.
Buck shook his head, and muttered a quiet, "Damn…" And then added, "You don't see that every day."
The town was cleaved at the train station. Deep ruts cut the road, tearing through the hard pack and bringing dark soil above the pale topcoat. And then a twist of two train cars, ending at the Bonneville Hotel. The three story structure was sliced open, leaving it like a ransacked dollhouse, with a broken, steaming locomotive slammed inside.
It took a moment to totally understand what they were seeing.
The engine must have been a beauty in her day. The shine and fine construction was still visible through the wreckage. She had been painted blue and silver. Now she lay in a twist within the blasted beams and walls of the hotel. Rods and pipes and pistons were scattered among the busted furniture and singed draperies. The boiler had scalded the wallpaper off the remaining walls. Smoldering coal dotted the area. The smokebox had come to rest against the far wall, bending the smokestack, cracking the concrete of the neighboring bank building and scattering further rubble.
The tender had followed the locomotive into the hotel, throwing its load of coal everywhere. Two silver and blue cars were just outside the building, broken off at the hitch, flipped against each other. One of them reduced to little more than wheels and carriage in a shattered cage of wood and metal. The other car, as fancy as the engine, was split like an overripe melon, but otherwise intact.
"Damn," Buck said again.
One small thing to be thankful for, the train was a 'special', not a usual run out of Cedar Ridge. That train might bring ten passengers cars with it. It wasn't the freight either – loaded with coal and livestock and goods and kerosene. As bad as this was, it could have been worse if that heavy train had followed the same path.
Still, this was bad, very bad.
Little seemed to have been touched. Even now, hours after the crash, with strangers milling about, nobody seemed to be doing anything.
As they were staring, a man approached. "You come to help or to gawk?" he asked. He was an older man with a hangdog face wearing a dark uniform.
"We're here to help," Josiah responded. "We received the telegram. They asked for us."
The man nodded. "Well, glad to have you, but probably won't need you until tomorrow."
"But the victims…?" Josiah started.
"We got 'em. Everyone's out." He gave them both another look. "My name's Cook. I'm the stationmaster." He jabbed a thumb at another man who joined them. "That's Benson. He's…now, who did you say you were with?"
Benson extended a hand. "I just want to help where I can. I got lots of experience with project management and such."
"Buck," Wilmington said, shaking Benson's hand. "That's Josiah. We came from Four Corners."
"Four Corners?" Benson responded brightly. "I've heard about you folks. More coming?"
Josiah shook his head. "I wish that were the case, but we don't have the extra hands at the moment. We can send for the others if necessary, but…"
Benson continued, "I think we should get started on the cleanup as soon as possible. There's no reason to delay. The longer the track is out of commission, the worse it is for everyone along the line."
Stationmaster Cook grumbled. "We're holding tight for now," he replied. "The inspectors are coming out of Tucson. They should be here tomorrow with a crew to fix the track if anything is damaged. Until then, we leave things where they are. Nothing is coming through until we can be sure that the rails are true. The engine is too hot to anyway. Couldn't move it if we wanted to."
Benson shook his head in annoyance and headed toward the worst of the wreckage, pacing it off.
Josiah asked judiciously, "How bad are the casualties?"
Cook stared past them. "Two people died at the hotel. We had another seven injured there, and two people injured from the train."
"Only two hurt on the train?" Buck replied as he looked at the wreckage in disbelief.
"Only two passengers on it," Cook explained.
Buck cocked his head as he looked at the position of the locomotive, tossed on its side and slammed into the hotel. "The engineer?" Buck asked.
"That's the thing," Cook responded. "There's no sign of the engineer or fireman. That's another reason why we need the inspector out here. And, of course, the switch."
Josiah and Buck gave him curious looks. "And what about the switch?" Josiah asked.
"It was turned to the side track," Cook said. "Shouldn't have been. I blame myself." and he looked away, flushing with shame. "I was occupied when the train came in. It wasn't scheduled! It was coming too fast! I swear to God the switch was in the right position when I left. I had no time to get back. Lord knows how it happened. Lord knows…. It's my fault." And he jammed his hands in his pockets. "Two people dead and nine hurt because of my choices. I'll lose my job, but that's the least of it, isn't it? Those poor people. So many lives ruined because of me." And he squinted at the wreck in misery.
"If there's anything we can do to help…" Josiah said softly.
Cook snuffled a little, and then said, "We got plenty of folks doing nothing right now. You might be able to help in the new hospital. I can't bear to go there, but maybe they can use a hand."
*(7)*{7}*(7)*{7}*(7)*{7}*
The new hospital had been open for only a month or so. It had two stories – the first floor consisted of examination rooms, surgeries and offices. The second housed the patients – with a few private rooms and a large open ward filled with beds.
Everyone was rather quiet when Buck and Josiah arrived on the floor. Nurses milled about. A few patients had visitors beside them and everyone seemed to be settled in and tended to by this point. Appendages were splinted and bright burns showed on some of the more miserable patients. Nearly every one of them sported a bandage of some sort.
It was something to see such an efficient and sterile room after growing used to Nathan's clinic. Everything here was white and gray and stark and clean. Certainly a model medical facility.
"Wish we'd brought Nathan," Josiah said softly. "He'd do a lot of good here. He'd love seeing this place."
"If JD wasn't so sick…" Buck said, trailing off. "We'll wire him when we know more. Kid could be feeling better. He sure got himself a terrible stomach ailment. Probably something he ate, but you never know."
"He does like sticky buns," Josiah added with a smile. "I suppose that's what he gets for eating all of them."
A young nurse stepped up when they continued to survey the room. "Hi, I'm Hazel. Are you looking for someone?" she asked in a whisper as she glanced at her clipboard. She finally faced Buck and blushed when he winked.
"We just come here to help out," Buck replied, "any way we can."
"Oh," she said, sounding surprised. "I think we're doing okay now." She sighed. "It was pretty chaotic earlier."
Buck nodded, and wondered why they'd come.
"How bad are the casualties," Josiah asked in a low voice.
Hazel looked dour. "Two folks were killed at the hotel. They were just waiting in the lobby. So sad. The hotel manager and two maids had broken bones and burns. Three others in the hotel were in their rooms. We have them resting comfortably now. And one of our townspeople just walking down the street broke his shoulder when he tried to get out of the way. Then there were the folks on the train."
"It's a miracle anyone survived that," Buck stated.
Hazel nodded emphatically. "I can hardly believe it myself! Mr. Rand broke his leg pretty badly. The other passenger hasn't really woken up yet." And she nodded toward a bed at the back of the room.
Buck saw Josiah react. The preacher had momentarily glanced in the direction Hazel indicated, and then his head snapped back, as alert as a spaniel. A second later, he hurried past the other beds to the one in the farthest corner.
Curious, Buck watched him go, and then realized the reason for his reaction. "Son of a bitch," he muttered, then threw an apologetic look at Hazel before he dashed after Josiah.
The preacher reached the bed before he did, and laid one huge hand on the occupant's shoulder, the other cupped the sleeping man's chin. "Ezra," Josiah said softly, then glanced up to Buck in misery.
The New Hospital, short on everything in the onslaught of patients, didn't have enough blankets to go around. Ezra, with his eyes blackened, his face horribly bruised, scuffed, and in torn clothing, rested on the bare mattress.
"Ezra," Josiah said softly. "Wake up, son."
Standish winced a little, and eyelashes fluttered.
"Ezra," Buck called quietly as he crowded in beside Sanchez. "You okay?"
"Stop…" Standish muttered. He lifted a hand and made a motion as if he wanted to shove Josiah away, but the movement fell short and his hand dropped as he made a pained grunt. "… we're goin' too fast.."
"Come on, Ezra. Open those eyes up," Buck encouraged. And he tapped Ezra gently on his other cheek.
Ezra grimaced and groaned. "…too fast…"
In a flash, his expression changed to complete horror. With a yelp, he threw his arms out, as if to brace himself, smacking Josiah instead. Then, he jerked himself upright, his hand knotting into Josiah's shirt.
"Ezra! Ezra, calm down!" Buck insisted. "It's okay! You're in the hospital now. It's okay."
Standish panted, burying his head against Josiah's chest for a moment, before he turned his head, blinking rapidly. It took a moment and he seemed to become aware of his surroundings. "Oh," he stated. And "Oh,' again as he slowly released his death grip on Sanchez.
The nurses in the room had turned their attention toward the bed at Ezra's outcry, but they'd probably heard plenty of similar exclamations that day, and went back about their business. They were busy enough as it was.
Josiah was slower to release his hold of Ezra, and kept a hand at his back to help him sit up.
Ezra wrapped his arms around his chest. His face and arms were obviously bruised. What wasn't black-and-blue was red with abrasions, making him look as if he'd narrowly survived a train wreck. He carefully looked from Josiah to Buck, blinking as if he wasn't quite sure of what he was seeing.
"Buck? Josiah? What are you doin' here?"
"You okay, son?" Sanchez asked, his voice thick with concern.
"I've been better," Ezra grumbled.
"You hurt bad?" Buck asked him.
Standish gave him an annoyed look, and then furrowed his brow. "Oh, I'm obviously just fine. Look at me!" And then he winced and said, "I ache from head to toe - every inch of me. Lord Almighty."
"You don't seem to have anything broken," Buck stated, giving Ezra a cursory look. "Nobody put a splint on you at least. Nothing worth bandaging even."
"Apparently not," Ezra said, taking stock as he shuffled in the bed. "No hurt worth mentioning, I suppose." He sighed. "It doesn't help that this bed is even more uncomfortable than Nathan's." With that, he came to a realization. "Where am I anyway? And you haven't answered, why are you here?"
"You're in the new hospital in Ridge City," Josiah told him.
"Ridge City?" Ezra repeated. "But wasn't I in Cedar Ridge? I… oh… oh yes. The train. The Train!" he stiffened again, his arm lashing out to grab hold of Josiah and he squeezed his eyes shut. He relaxed in a moment, huffing out a laugh. "Silly of me," he declared. "Damn silly. I… the train. Yes, the train."
"What happened, Ezra?" Buck asked earnestly, pulling up a chair. Josiah found a place beside Ezra on the bed.
"The train… crashed," Ezra said, sounding perplexed. He looked to his two friends. "It did crash, didn't it?"
Josiah nodded. "Quite spectacularly, right through the center of the Bonneville Hotel."
Standish looked disturbed at that thought. "Anyone hurt?" he asked. "I mean, besides me." He looked about the room, seeming to realize there were others there as well. "Plenty of others," he breathed out.
"Nine hurt, including you. And two were killed in the hotel," Josiah informed him.
Ezra looked bleak at that news. "And Rudolph? Did you hear what happened to Rudolph?" he scanned the room, blinking as if he had trouble clearing his vision. "I don't see him."
"Rudolph?" Buck repeated the name.
"Rudolph Rand. I was on the train with him, in his private car. He is a gentleman and a lumber baron from the Oregon Territory."
"He should be here somewhere." Josiah told him. "We heard that he had a bad leg break. They probably have him in a private room."
"Well, that makes sense. He has plenty of money, that's for certain," Ezra stated with a slip of annoyance in his voice.
"What were you doing on that train, anyway?" Buck asked.
"The search in Cedar Ridge was fruitless." Looking defeated, Ezra told them, "I found nothing at the City Hall. The will was not to be found, and neither were the deeds for the land. Everything was out of order and misfiled. It wasn't worth the time."
"Maybe the city clerk just didn't care enough to file things correctly," Buck stated. "Think Chris will be happy to hear that you left without even trying?" He smiled a little, knowing that Chris would have something different for his concern once they reported back.
Ezra chuckled lightly. "Mr. Larabee? Oh, he won't be happy at all. It's hard to please that man in any case. Honestly, I believe someone was there before me, taking what they wanted and putting the rest into shambles to slow me down. They would have done a better job of it if they'd left everything alone. I would have wasted considerable time searching for something misfiled. This was not a simple error by file clerk. This was purposeful."
Josiah nodded. "And so you left."
Ezra tried to shrug, but stopped short. "They had a saloon. It called to me."
"Now we understand," Buck responded.
"I cannot ignore that siren's song. And Mr. Rand seemed to have every asset that I admire most in a competitor."
"You mean, he had money," Josiah filled in.
"Plenty of it," Ezra responded. "So we fell into a game and passed a pleasant time together. But the gentleman was anxious to go. It seemed a shame to end the game at that point. He told me that he had a private car that currently had plenty of room, and I was welcome to join him." Ezra lifted and dropped his hands. "He told me it was his own private train, built to his specifications, opulent, comfortable and finely appointed. How could I say no to that?"
"I 'spect it would be difficult," Buck responded.
"The Mighty Columbia was a beautiful engine, and his private car was magnificent, all accented in fine wood and every imaginable convenience. He said it was built to withstand attack from nigh on anything" Ezra smiled, and then his expression fell. "A pity. It's probably destroyed now."
"It's probably what saved your life," Josiah told him. "The private car was still recognizable when we saw it. The other car was beyond help."
"Do you know why it crashed?" Buck said. "How'd it happen?"
Ezra lowered his bruised head and rubbed it slowly. "We were getting close to Ridge City, I believe. I remember seeing some shacks near the tracks and we slowed considerably. I thought we were coming to a stop at the station, but we were still some distance from town. Immediately after that, the train began picking up speed." His voice became distant. "Considerable speed. It was going too fast, far too fast as we were heading into town. Rand was shouting that they were going to kill him."
"They?" Josiah repeated. "Who is 'they'?"
Ezra kept a hand on his head. "He said a name," Ezra said airily. He took a moment, then said, "Lord help me if I can remember it. He was terrified. He ran to the doorway that connected the cars, but the door was jammed. He couldn't get it open. He kept saying that he was going to die." Ezra kept his head down, and he placed his hands over his swollen eyes. "I had no intention of doing that, and I headed to the rear door."
"It took seconds," he said. "I tried to make it, but … boom…" Ezra let his hands drop to his lap.
"Boom?" Buck repeated.
"Suddenly, boom," Ezra replied. "And nothing else. Just, boom, and then I was here, and then you were here, and that's all I know." He blinked, staring off into the distance. "You haven't told me what you're doing here."
"We came because of the wreck," Buck told him.
"Because of me?" Ezra asked quietly, as if he wasn't sure of the answer.
Josiah paused, his expression telling that he wished he had a different answer. Finally, he said warmly, "Pure serendipity. Ridge City asked for help and we came, and we found you."
"I gotta say, I'd have been a bit irked that they wanted us here so fast when they had nothing for us to do, but I'm damn glad we came now," Buck stated. "Damn, Ezra. I'm glad we found you."
"I'm glad to be found," he responded, blinking across the room. "The trial hasn't happened already?" he asked. "I've lost track of time."
"You went to Cedar Ridge last night, Ezra, only a day has passed since we last saw you," Buck told him.
"That's good. I was afraid it may have been longer." Ezra nodded. "Is JD any better?"
"He was still feeling pretty low," Josiah told him. "But Nate seems to think he's turned the corner."
Ezra nodded again. "That, at least, is good news."
Nurse Hazel appeared at the bedside then, shushing their talk. She told him that a doctor would be by to see him as soon as one could be freed up.
"I'd like to see Rudolph Rand," Ezra told her, and Hazel pointed the way.
Buck and Josiah helped Ezra into his boots and his torn filthy jacket. Ezra stayed quiet as they helped him, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth. He looked around dejectedly for his hat, but finally accepted the fact that it was gone.
With Josiah to help him, Ezra stood, shaking like a new foal at first, but after swallowing hard and taking a deep breath, he managed to walk with help. "Just sore and bruised," he said when Josiah gave him a commiserating look. "So please don't put a stranglehold on me. I don't think I can handle it today."
"You sure you're up to this?" Buck asked him.
Ezra sighed. "I need to talk to Rand to find out who was trying to kill him, and why I had to get caught up in it as well."
*(7)*{7}*(7)*{7}*(7)*{7}*
Rudolph Rand's private room was nicely appointed – unlike the open space of the ward. It was obviously meant for someone willing to pay for a more comfortable space. Rand was probably a little older than Buck, but with more gray hair and a face nearly as bruised as Ezra's.
He looked up with annoyance at the intrusion, but then recognized the battered man in the disheveled clothing. "Standish!" he called. "You're awake!"
Ezra nodded with a slow dedication. "Indeed I am. It seems your marvelous private car was as sturdy and fine as you suggested."
"Made from only the best products!" Rand stated. "Mighty fine! I told you it was nearly impregnable! It could survive a bomb or an attack from bandits!" He smiled broadly, gesturing toward the window of his room, which offered an excellent view of the railway and the wreck.
Ezra remained leaning in the doorway, with Josiah at his side. He didn't seem interested in stepping closer for a good look.
"They told me you were taking your time in waking," Rand said.
"I do like my sleep," Ezra told him.
"Well, I'm glad to see you're up. They told me they'd put you out in the ward somewhere."
"Yes, and you have a fine private room."
Rand smiled broadly. "The best of everything for me!" And then he added a little loudly, "That was one hell of a wreck. One hell of a wreck. I won't ever forget it, not 'til my dying day!"
Ezra looked from Josiah to Buck. "Perhaps it is best that I don't remember it."
"Probably," Rand said, gesturing to his leg. "I know I want to forget this. The laudanum helps."
"You got any idea who did this?" Josiah asked.
Rand quirked his mouth. "I have enemies," he said. "Some closer than I'd like."
Ezra continued, "Do you know who that would be? I would like to know because I have something against them now."
Rand regarded him for a moment, then said, "You know how it is, Mr. Standish. When you have something that someone else wants, they want to take you down. They'll do it any way they can."
"So you have an idea of who did this?" Buck asked.
Rand made a little shrug. "Possibly." And he gave Ezra a look, saying, "But I have no facts. If you have any conjectures, you'd best keep them to yourself."
Ezra looked as if he didn't know how to respond, and Rand seemed to be pleased with that reaction.
Rand went on pointedly, "It was probably the crew. They haven't been found."
"Ash and Harvey?" Ezra responded, putting a hand to his head. "Truly, you can't find them to blame?"
"They're missing, aren't they?" Rand returned.
"They are?" Ezra replied, looking to Buck and Josiah for confirmation as he gently rubbed his head.
"They haven't been found," Josiah told him.
"So you see," Rand said. "They're the first people that I need to have interrogated." He frowned deeply. "I can't believe I trusted them with the Columbia. I can't seem to ever trust the right people." And he looked to Ezra with the same miserable expression, as if he was calculating just how much blame he could place on the gambler.
"No matter," Rand continued. "I have a man who's watching out for me. He'll take care of things. He's the only one I can trust in the whole lot of them." He rubbed his splinted and ensnared leg dolefully. "I need my nurse," he muttered. "The pain is unbearable and all this talking is making everything worse."
Ezra was looking away, his expression distant as he sagged against Josiah and finally let his hand drop to his side.
"Come on, Ezra, let's get you back to bed," Josiah said softly, ushering Standish through the door. "We can talk some more when you're feeling better."
Rand made a dismissive gesture as they shuffled out of the room, then started shouting for a nurse.
When Sanchez tried to move him toward the ward, Ezra dug in his heels. "How much of the wreck is still in place?"
"All of it," Buck responded. "They can't move it until the inspector arrives tomorrow."
"Then we'd better go see it now," Ezra told him.
"You could just take a gander out Rand's window," Buck suggested.
"I need a closer look," Ezra told him.
"What you really need is more rest, Ezra," Josiah explained. "You can hardly stand on your own."
"I don't need to stand on my own. I have you," and he smiled winningly at the preacher "Onward, Josiah." He pointed toward the stairs. "It's time for a little detective work. We need to do our own inspection before anyone else alters the scene."
"Ezra, no," Josiah tried to be firm.
"Someone tried to kill me," Ezra said. "I aim to find out why." He sighed as they reached the end of the hall, and the top of the stairs. "Stairs," he muttered. "Why are they always putting the injured at the top of stairs?"
"They're probably expecting you to stay put for a while," Josiah told him.
Ezra raised his eyebrows. "They don't know me very well, do they?"
TBC - Leave it to Ezra to bust up a perfectly good train