“Well, if you don’t like it, you don’t have to take your cut,” Odom said. “Come on, boys, let’s go.”
“What—what happened?” Hayes asked, groaning, and trying to sit up.
“Shit, he’s alive!” Bates said.
Drawing his gun, Odom aimed it at Hayes and fired. His bullet hit Hayes in the forehead and Hayes fell back.
“Not no more, he ain’t,” Odom said. “The dumb son of a bitch. All he had to do was be quiet for one more minute and he wouldn’t of got hisself kilt. Come on, let’s get out before somebody looks in here.”
Matt waited until all four men had left the car before he moved from his hiding place. Using the key he had taken from Hayes, he unlocked his shackles. After that, he strapped on Hayes’s pistol, then looked down at him.
“Like the fella said, Hayes. If you had been quiet for one more minute, you’d still be alive.”
Armed and free, Matt climbed out of the car.
Chapter Eight
When Matt jumped down from the express car, he was totally unprepared for the carnage he saw. The next car after the express car was the baggage car, and the passenger car following it was telescoped into it. The next three passenger cars, while not overturned, were jackknifed, piled up onto each other, and burning. Scattered luggage and clothing created a patchwork quilt of bright colors alongside the track.
Everyone who could do so had evacuated the train. Some, who were bleeding and badly injured, had collapsed near the track. Others, not as severely wounded, were wandering around in a state of shock, as if not sure what had happened to them. There were also several bodies lying on the ground around the train, some evidently thrown from the train, others who might have staggered this far before they died.
It was even worse inside the wrecked cars. Matt could hear the cries of pain and fear from those who were still trapped.
Outside, a few of the people had begun to function again, and they started back into the cars to pull out more of the injured.
“Get the ones out of the cars that are already burning first!” Matt yelled, taking charge only because no one else seemed to be doing so.
Leading by example, Matt moved up to the first car, which, because of its position, presented the windows at face level. Stepping up to the window and looking inside, Matt drew in a sharp breath of shock. Through the smoke that was coming out of the car, he could see seats that were wrenched from their mounts, and a floor that was running red with blood. There were bodies, and body parts, strewn about.
“Anyone here?” he called.
“Yes, I’m here,” a man’s voice answered.
Matt went into the car and and found a man lying on the floor, with his legs badly twisted.
“I can’t walk,” the man said. “Please, get me out of here.”
Turning, Matt saw that a couple others had come in with him.
“Hang on,” Matt said. “We’re going to get you out.”
He passed the passenger back to the one behind him and, making a chain of rescuers, they got the injured man safely off the train.
Leaving that car, Matt went to the next to continue the rescue operation. At the front of the car, he saw the woman and the little boy, Jerry, who had asked about his shackles. Jerry was unhurt and free to move around, but he was sitting on the floor by his mother. Matt saw, then, why Jerry hadn’t left the train. The boy’s mother was trapped under the seat.
Matt crawled in through the window, then worked his way through the smoke and bloody carnage until he reached the front of the car.
“Hello, Jerry,” Matt said, remembering the boy’s name. “How are you?”
“I’m all right, but Mama can’t get up,” Jerry answered.
“Ma’am, can you hear me?” Matt asked.
“Yes, I can hear you,” she answered in a weak voice.
“Are you hurt?”
“I think I may have broken my arm,” she replied.
“What about Suzie?”
“She’s here with me,” the woman answered. “We’re both jammed in here and can’t move. I’m worried about Suzie. She hasn’t made a sound.”
“Let me see what I can do.”
The woman and her young daughter were wedged in between the front seat and the collapsed front wall of the car. In addition, the side wall was crushed in as well and pressing down on the seat.
Matt tried to pull the seat out, but he couldn’t make it budge. Then he tried to lift the seat up, and couldn’t do that either. He was not going to be able to move the seat without help, or at least without tools.
“I’ll be back,” he said.
“No, please, don’t leave us,” the woman pleaded. “The car is on fire, I don’t want to burn up.”
Matt squatted down, then put his hand gently, reassuringly, on her shoulder. “I have to get something that will allow me to move this seat,” he said. “I’ll be back, I promise.”
