Authors: Kenneth Cran
On the ground, the Smilodons were quieting down, resigned to the fact that their prey was out of reach. A few of the younger ones engaged in mock-battles, trading soft bites and swipes of their paws. One of the bigger ones plopped down at the edge of the cliff, yawned and watched the rest of the pride. Though night was creeping closer, they were lethargic and unexcited by it, and Talia surmised that they must indeed be nearing the start of their hibernation period.
She wished they would leave. The desire to get down to the ruin was overwhelming. She wanted to examine it close up, not from 80 feet above. She had to touch it, walk around inside it. It was an extraordinary construct, built for what must have been a maximum of strength and-
Talia’s heart jumped.
Maximum strength
.
What flashed through her mind excited her and terrified her all at once. Was it possible? Was she seeing now what she thought she was seeing? Her eyes darted around the outside perimeter, but in the shadows of the forest, it was hard to see details. If only she could climb down. If only she could get closer.
Scanning the outside of the wall, her eyes stopped at a long, pointed object at the structure’s base. She gasped as she realized what it was.
An elephant tusk.
She squinted, continued her inspection. More tusks, horns and antlers lined the base of the structure, all pointing outward into the forest.
It was a palisade, and Talia knew what a palisade was for.
Defense.
A line of sharpened stakes projecting toward an advancing enemy could be an effective deterrent from attack. They had been utilized in ancient wars across the whole of civilization, especially against a charging cavalry of mounted soldiers and warriors. But a palisade could also be an intimidating barrier if it was set up around a stationary if not permanent position, say a soldier’s encampment, or a village.
Or a fort.
44
Nick choked on coal smoke as the train cut through the tunnel. Jamming his eyelids shut and covering his ears, he attempted to block out the stinging smoke and deafening mechanical cacophony of the locomotive’s workings. Then, the muffled noise and midnight black of the tunnel vanished as the eastbound emerged into daylight. Cold wind blasted Nick’s body and the freshness of the air made his eyes water. He inhaled deeply, then searched the land around the train. The taiga undulated as far as the eye could see. After spending the past week running through it, the endless forest was no longer threatening. On the contrary, in Nick’s state he thought it
inviting
.
“
Snap out of it, Somerset,” he said. As if to answer, a sudden roar shook the train.
Nick darted his head back toward the caboose. With a monumental explosion of wood slats and dust, the alpha male broke out through what remained of the end train car’s roof. Razor claws reached up and dug into the edge of the leading boxcar, securing it as the wind buffeted its mane. Nick fell backwards from shock and the shear force of the Smilodon’s presence. With eyes ablaze, it looked as if it had been to hell and slain the devil.
Nick stood up and ran toward the engine as fast as his tired legs would go With a graceless jump, he landed hard on the coal tender’s steel roof. Looking up, he saw not only the locomotive before him, but also the engineer’s cab.
Inside were two figures. The engineer and fireman peered at him through the cab windows with black, coal-stained faces. And it was that blackness that made their bulging eyes so dramatic.
Nick didn’t have to look back to know the alpha was right behind him. He threw himself toward the engineer’s cabin as the Smilodon lashed out a paw, missing him by inches.
Landing upright on the narrow foot deck, Nick grabbed the handle and tried opening the door to the engineer’s cab. It wouldn’t budge. The terrified men had locked it.
Trapped, Nick spun around to witness the snarling alpha stalk across the coal tender toward him. Again, the great cat lashed out and again Nick forced his body to move, dropping to the deck. There was a rush of wind as the paw missed him, raking the engineer’s cabin instead. Through shear brute force, the massive claw tore the door from its hinges, exposing the men inside. Huddled together, they screamed in terror at the fanged beast before them.
Forgetting Nick for the moment, the alpha reached inside and hooked both men at once with its paw. With a flick of its wrist, it sent them screaming into the wind and the passing rocks to their deaths.
The freight train rushed down the tracks blindly, now carrying only two passengers. Nick scrambled through the ragged doorway into the engineer’s cab and found himself facing a wall of pipes, valves and gauges. Of all things mechanical, he had an elementary understanding. But he had never before been inside a steam locomotive, though like the airplane and tank, he understood the basic principals of its operation. He read the labels of each gauge, translating as he went along.
Steam heating isolator valve.
Boiler pressure gauge.
Pressure gauge isolator valve.
Nick found what he wanted, or at least he thought he did.
Christ, Somerset,
i
s this necessary?
The freight train was supposed to be a sanctuary. He had wanted to find help to rescue Talia, but now Nick found himself in an even more dangerous position than being stuck up a tree or trapped in a gulag cell. He had to rid himself of the alpha male, and the only way to do that, Nick reasoned, was to destroy the train.
Clasping the brass valve handle, he began to turn it.
If it’s the wrong valve, the engine will lose steam and slow down. And that will be the end of you, pal.
Nick suddenly felt that he wasn’t alone in the cab. He spun around and wasn’t at all surprised to see the enormous head of the great cat enter the cab. Quickly, Nick grabbed the fire door handle and swung it open. The alpha screeched as intense heat from the engine’s coal-fired furnace filled the confined space. It ducked out of the engine cab, shook its head and swiped at its fast-blistering nose. Its eyelids stuck to its eyes like cold dough on an ungreased pan, and it howled at the discomfort.
Nick slammed the fire door closed and turned his attention back to the guages and dials. He clutched the pressure isolator valve handle and with all the strength he could muster, tried to turn it.
It wouldn’t budge.
Clenching his jaw, he crushed his eyes shut, screamed and pulled, and the valve handle finally gave way. He spun the brass dial to the opposite end of the threads, and then tightened it with the weight of his body.
The pressure gauge showed the needle quickly approaching the red.
Nick popped the engine cab’s roof hatch and climbed out, once again exposing himself to the frigid Siberian wind. Engulfed in endless black smoke shooting from the engine’s chimney, he tread across the giant boiler that comprised most of the locomotive’s shape. Nick fought the wind, found his way to the top rung of an access ladder, and descended the locomotive’s cylindrical body to a narrow catwalk. The eastbound raced along at top speed and it was all Nick could do to keep from being blown off.
On the catwalk, Nick clutched the chain rail and turned to see where the train was heading. The tracks ahead curved slightly, while the blurred forest on either side closed to within a dozen feet or so. There didn’t appear to be any more cliffs or rocks as the terrain flattened out. A mile ahead, a wide open space, perhaps a field or a lake, was approaching.
Nick heard a throaty grunt and glanced up. Materializing through the black smoke of the chugging locomotive was the alpha male, its nose blistered and bleeding, its eyes half-closed and swollen from the sudden heat bath of the fire box. With dark patches of soot staining its hide, it crept onto the huge black cylinder of the engine’s body, eyeing Nick the entire time. Nick spun around on the catwalk, but had nowhere to go.
Inside the engineers cab, the steam pressure gauge vibrated into the red and beyond, copper pipes bursting as it did so. The pressure valve needle reached the end of the dial and with a resounding BOOM, the engineer’s cab exploded, throwing wood, metal and fiery coals into the wind. The engine lurched, toppling the alpha backward and sending Nick over the side.Grasping for a hand-hold, he found the chain railing at the last second. Dangling above the driving wheels, he screamed as the coupling rod smacked his leg with its repetitive up and down motion, shattering the bone as if it were glass.
Massive mechanical failure greeted the couplings connecting the train cars. Steel shattered, brake vacuum pipes burst and wheels split apart. The coal tender’s leading axles cracked in half, separating the car from its wheels. Hitting the ground at 50 miles an hour, the tender acted as a plow as the engine pulled it along, ripping up steel track and wood crossties. The coupling holding the engine to the coal tender strained to maintain its grip, then finally gave way, releasing the locomotive from the rest of the train. Rumbling forward, the tender veered away, tearing up the track like scissors through cotton threads. With a metallic rumble and screech, it sped along another hundred feet before crashing into a stand of pine trees.
Following the tender’s lead, the rest of the train cars jumped the tracks and buckled like so many links in a weakened chain. Chiseling their own trails through earth and snow, they struck the towering pine trees bordering the tracks and splintered into kindling. Cargo crates, barrels, and boxes were ejected into the forest, themselves hitting tree trunks and splattering their contents across the terrain.
Even through his own screams, Nick could hear the crashing cars in the distance. Hooking his good leg over a stationary pipe, he strained and hauled himself back onto the walkway. Seconds later and under incredible stress, the locomotive’s pistons and coupling rods broke apart. The right wheel assembly bent inward and the engine leaned. Nick held on, but realized that the engine was falling
his
way.
The alpha dug its claws into steel as the locomotive slipped off the rails with a protesting shriek. Dirt, snow and sparks burst from the undercarriage as the wheels failed, sending the locomotive into a belly skid off the tracks. The steam engine roared along, gouging a trench in the earth as it arced away from the tracks. Nick held on, but his breathing halted and his eyes bugged at what he saw ahead.
The trestle was one of Siberia’s longest at over 1,000 feet, and it marked the approach to Lake Baikal. Like an intricate wood sculpture, the colossal structure bridged the 500 foot deep Angara gorge with a gentle arc. Below, the lazy Angara River flowed north in no particular hurry, its dark surface spotted with forming ice.
Nick had but one thought and that didn’t last much longer than the actual jump. Pushing out with his good leg, he flung himself into the air as the locomotive approached the cliff edge. He hit the snow hard, rolling along head over heels before blacking out.
At top speed, the engine blasted over the cliff, gaining air before sweeping downward. The alpha male’s jump was too late as it went the way of the engine, plunging down to the river. A line of white steam and debris trailed like the tail of a comet, fluttering in the vortex created by the falling locomotive.
The impacts were simultaneous as the engine’s great black cylinder folded before exploding in an orange and black fireball. The Smilodon hit the river, disappearing in an icy splash. Hot turbulent water from the boiler cooled against the frigid water, sending a billowing plume of steam into the air. Waves born from the impact washed over the riverbanks, displacing mud and snow before the Angara returned to its sleepy state.
45
One by one, the Smilodons left the gully and surrounding forest. Talia watched them file out, back toward the clearing and their lair. A few stopped and paid her a glance, but their interest had waned to a point of mere curiosity. On occasion, they grunted or yawned, but the most energetic action was a wiggle of an ear or bobbed tail.
The last to leave, the pride’s matriarch wandered to the edge of the gully and looked down its length. The alpha male had been gone a long time, too long, and his mate was beginning to show signs of anxiety. Had Talia not known better, she would have even thought the big female was mourning.
That was, of course, not possible. Talia didn’t want to assign human emotions to the cats, and she was even less inclined to believe an animal with the strength of the alpha could ever be defeated. It was too powerful, too cunning, too
intelligent
. No animal could survive as long as it had without all of those traits in abundance. As much as she admired and respected Nick’s own ability to survive, she had just as much respect and admiration for the alpha. She hoped that
both
of them were okay.