Boston shore. By the time it bumped against Nick’s new homeland, the vessel was lighter thanks to the dozens of bodies that had been dumped overboard.
One of those bodies had belonged to Nick’s mother. After that, he’d told his father that he never wanted to see an ocean again. Although they’d had their differences over the years, the old man had kept his word and took Nick to grow up in the middle of the New World.
Nick sifted through his memories and tried not to think about the long train ride that was still ahead of him. His mood improved a bit, however, once he discovered the dining car while stretching his legs. When meals weren’t being served, some of the tables were occupied by men who’d set up card games or women who wanted to get away from the occasionally rowdy general population of passengers.
Nick found a slightly more comfortable chair against a window that allowed him to watch the land roll past him in a blur of greens and browns. It was a softer time of day when the sun bathed the terrain in a red glow to make the window seem more like a painting. The easy smile on Nick’s face lasted right up until he opened the window and caught a hot cinder in his eye. Shutting the window angrily, Nick swore he could hear someone laughing at him from one of the other tables.
Taking a moment to figure his distance to the Badlands, Nick toyed with the idea of stopping the train by any means necessary, taking Kazys from the livery car, and riding the rest of the way. The estimate Nick arrived at wasn’t to his liking. The train ride would be long enough. If he rode to the Dakotas the more familiar way, he might as well let any number of grave robbers take their shot at Barrett’s inheritance.
Nick got up from his chair and walked to the back of the car. The cool wind he felt when stepping between cars only reminded him of being in the saddle when Kazys had built up a full head of steam. When he found the sleeper car, he looked for a conductor.
“How much for a bed?” Nick asked.
The conductor was a happy fellow who walked the row of every car as if he was touring his own Promised Land. “Let me check to see if there are any left,” he said. After flipping through a few pages on his small pad of paper, he tapped it with his finger and chirped, “We’ve got one open. It’s…”
“I’ll take it,” Nick cut in as the conductor was trying to figure out which door to point to.
Nick didn’t care how much he would have to pay for the compartment. When he heard the price, he handed some money over to the conductor and dragged himself through the narrow doorway.
The compartment wasn’t much more than a closet with a view. There was a cot hanging from a wall, a window and a stool. Nick sat down on the cot, pulled the shade over the window and then closed his eyes. He drifted off to sleep eventually, but didn’t get any better of a rest than when he’d dozed off while sitting on one of the benches with the rest of the passengers.
Whatever he’d paid for the room, Nick vowed he wouldn’t pay it again.
Hours dragged into days.
Towns came and went.
The sun made its rounds in the sky.
There were plenty of stops and starts along the way. After a while, Nick stopped keeping track of them, since doing so only reminded him of how much longer he had to be cooped up in that damn crate on wheels. Just because he wasn’t paying complete attention, however, didn’t mean that he hadn’t grown to learn the subtle sounds and feel of the train itself.
When it rattled and squealed this time, Nick knew something was wrong.
He was sitting on the bench that seemed to give him the fewest splinters, his head leaning against the window. As the train shook and the wheels screeched, Nick rubbed his eyes and forced himself to focus upon the window. Unlike the other times when he’d felt the train slow, there wasn’t a station or even a platform in sight.
Cautiously opening the window, Nick looked outside. Since he didn’t have any point of reference, it would have been just as helpful to guess where he was on the map by the position of the clouds in the sky.
“Hey,” Nick said to the conductor who hurried down the aisle. “What’s happening?”
“Just making a stop,” the conductor replied.
“Where are we?”
“Wyoming.”
“Where in Wyoming?” Nick growled.
For the first time since the train had left California, the conductor actually reacted to the gruff tone in Nick’s voice. “Sir, you’ll just have to stay here and be patient. I’m going to find out right now.” With that, the conductor moved along to push his way past the rest of the anxious passengers.
Nick let out an aggravated sigh, but he couldn’t blame the conductor for being terse. Even though he was sure someone in uniform would make some sort of announcement before too long, Nick wasn’t very good at waiting. He also wasn’t inclined to trust men in uniforms.
Nick’s first impulse was to sit back down and try to think of something else while things were straightened out. That kept him appeased for all of three seconds before he was once more shifting and aching to get up.
He couldn’t quite figure out what was bothering him until he took another long, deep breath.
Smoke.
He smelled smoke.
He hadn’t been completely certain at first, but now that he’d pulled in enough of it for the taste to collect at the back of his throat, he would have staked his life on it. Nick went to the window again and looked outside. All he could see was the Wyoming landscape, and that didn’t give him anything to go on. When he opened the window and stuck his head outside to get a look further up the tracks, the first things he saw were the backs of the heads of all the other people who were doing the same thing.
Even so, all Nick had to do was crane his neck to look upward in order to see the trail of black smoke snaking into the sky.
“God damn,” Nick muttered as he tried to pull his head back into the train without losing an ear.
As he got up from his seat, Nick had to shove his way through a small crowd as more and more passengers struggled to get to a spot where they could get a better view of whatever was holding them up. Nick lost more patience with each step he took. Most of those other passengers seemed to be more concerned with finding another way to trip him up rather than the scent of smoke growing thicker in the air.
By the time he made it to the door leading out of the car, Nick practically exploded through it. Rather than step into the next car, he stepped to the edge of the iron grate separating him from a drop off the train. Nick held onto the grate and leaned out until he was well beyond the row of curious heads poking out from various windows. What he saw was almost enough to make him lose his grip on the rusted iron bar.
There was a fairly good-sized town in the distance, which was swarming with activity. People ran to and fro. Horses bolted in every direction and the sounds of screaming voices could occasionally be heard. All of that sunk into Nick’s senses while his eyes soaked up the sight of the flames that engulfed an entire section of town.
“Good God,” Nick whispered.
Now that he was outside, the smoke in the air was almost thick enough to choke on. He wondered just how long those flames had been burning. Nick wanted to ask someone what was going on. Part of him even considered hopping off the train while it was stopped so he could go find out.
The longer he watched those flames, the harder it was for him to look away.
They formed a constantly moving shape that leaped up and then dropped back down again. The air around the fire wavered as heat billowed out like an extension of the black plumes of smoke. The roar of the flames rubbed against Nick’s ears, mingling with the high pitch of panicked screams.
The door to the next car came open and the conductor stepped through in such a hurry that he didn’t even notice Nick was standing there.
“What’s going on here?” Nick asked.
Jumping at the sound of Nick’s voice, the conductor replied, “Town’s on fire,” and started pulling open the door to the car Nick had just left.
“I can see that. Did we stop to lend a hand?”
The conductor chuckled and leaned over the side to get another look for himself. “Doesn’t look like there’s much we can do about it. We stopped because the tracks are blocked. I didn’t see exactly what’s blocking us, but I hear it’s quite a mess.” He reached out once more for the door’s handle, paused and looked at Nick again. “I’d like
