by J. A. Marlow
Sasha nudged him, "See, everything taken care of."
Zach stood up to pull on the rest of the snow pants. "What do you mean taken care of? There aren't any roads out here. How is anyone going to come to get us? Unless there is another train?"
"Only the Solar Express runs these rails," McRoyal said, putting on his own gear. He pulled from his pack a lantern and turned a knob at the top of it. A cool white electric light flooded the area.
His father rummaged through one bag after another, throwing a sweatshirt and two hats. "Which means who knows how long we'll have to wait."
"Dad, you're going to smother me in all this," Zach complained.
"Dress in layers, never can be too warm," his father said in an undertone.
"Good man. Learns quick. I like that," McRoyal said with a laugh.
Seeing that he wasn't about to win that battle, Zach accepted the sweater, but he quietly stuffed one of the hats back into a bag.
Sasha sat down in a nearby seat, looking out the other window at the aurora. "I remember one this big when I was a kid. It was so much fun. We went out and had a snowball fight at 2AM as if it were daylight."
"Too bad the aurora doesn't warm us like the sun does." With the sweater on it was too bulky to keep his denim jacket on, so it joined the second hat in a bag. Finally the big coat.
And suddenly he wasn't cold. In fact, it felt a little too warm.
Sasha gestured to the window. "You worry too much. Look at it. It's beautiful."
Shoving on a pair of big mittens, Zach looked out the window.
And stopped.
The aurora had grown to include yellows and reds. A cascade of ribbons layered across the sky, each one moving to its own rhythm. The landscape took on an eerie glow of bouncing and reflective colors changing in time with the aurora up above.
He wondered if he could see more detail with the help of a telescope. If he had a telescope. With the sky so clear and the stars so bright, maybe he should think about getting one. He'd always been interested in astronomy, but in the middle of a city it hadn't made sense with all the light pollution.
The more he thought about it the more he liked the idea. It would fit in well with his science studies and would look great on a college application.
The rest of the interior lights had shut down, leaving only the exit signs lit up at each end of the car. Each of the occupants was bundled up in winter clothes of various sorts, only the skin of their faces braving the air. Darnit shook his fur, and looked around with bright eyes, his teeth showing as he tried a grin again.
Zach frowned at him. The dog really needed to stop trying to smile. All it did was make him look like he was ready to bite someone.
"Quit frowning," Sasha said. She slid back across the aisle to the seat just in front of him. "Look at it like an adventure. Imagine the kinds of tales you'll be able to tell friends down in the lower 48."
"They'll think I was nuts to agree to come up with my father. Just like they were in the beginning."
The smile left her face, "You didn't want to come?"
Zach caught his breath, "I didn't say that. I said that's what they thought. Dad and I are a team. We both agreed to give this an honest try and that's what we're going to do."
A part of the smile returned. "Good, that's the spirit."
"That doesn't mean I don't have a right to worry about freezing to death."
"Which is why complaining about the money good gear costs wasn't so wise," Sasha said as she resumed her watch of the aurora.
"It was the money, not the gear," Zach said. "How can you be so calm about it? How long are we going to be stuck in here?"
"Mr. Landon said he talked with Mr. Dunn."
"What does that mean?"
Sasha sighed, turning away from the show outside. "Mr. Dunn owns the General Store. He'll get the word out about the train."
"And do what?" Zach persisted "Talk is nothing."
Sasha's eyes narrowed. "We take care of each other. That's what it means. It means help is coming."
Zach subsided. Sasha's voice hadn't risen, but there was an iron in it that he didn't want to argue with. Fine, she thought someone was out there doing something.
But what? Personally, he couldn't see how that could be. No roads, no other trains. What was someone going to do? Fly in?
Now, that was a possibility. Zach turned back to the window and looked up. He searched the aurora and star-filled skies for the tell-tale red and white blinking lights that would indicate an approaching airplane.
The dance of the lights made it hard for him to concentrate on the search. And the lights were bright enough he wasn't sure he would be able to pick out the blinking lights or shape anyway.
"There they are!" Sasha cried. She grabbed his shoulder and pointed out across a snowy plain.
He turned his attention to the ground, trying to follow where she was pointing. Then he saw them. Multiple lights bobbing up and down across the white fields.
Everyone else noticed the lights, as well, resulting in a surge of movement towards the exits. McRoyal slid open the door and exited the train, swinging his light back and forth. With it a wave of cold air rolled into the train compartment.
"Snow machines?" his father asked hopefully.
"You bet. Anyone who had one." Sasha pulled Zach to his feet, "Come on. You have to come out and see all of it."
The big boots felt heavier and clunkier than his hiking boots. He nearly tripped over his own feet walking down the aisle. Coordinating stepping down out of the train was a disaster.
With the left toe catching behind the right foot he went rolling into the snow at the bottom of the stairs. Darnit chased him down, barking at him while his father shouted after the dog. A shout from McRoyal diverted Darnit just as Zach came to a stop flat on his back.
Right into a perfect view of the sky. The aurora was everywhere.
CHAPTER TEN
"Zach, are you okay?" His father shouted out from the train.
"I'm fine, Dad," he managed to shout back, unable to take his eyes off the spectacle.
Sasha plopped down next to him in the snow and cradled her head in her arms as she looked up. "Isn't it great? A rooftop of colors."
"You could have tourists here in the winter just for this," Zach said. He pointed at a thick ribbon. "It gets so dense you can barely see the stars behind it."
"There are tourists that come up for the aurora, but they usually go to Fairbanks. That's where they are really active all year round. The University of Alaska has a science program up there to study them. I've thought about attending when the time comes. I'm still thinking about it. How about you?"
"Me?"
"What do you want to be when you grow up?" She said teasingly.
"I haven't decided yet. Something in science."
"A programmer like your father?"
"Maybe on the side, but not in an office. I like doing my own work for myself. Not making someone else richer."
Sasha sat up and brushed the snow off the arms of her parka, "Now that sounds like an independent Alaskan. There is hope for you yet."
Hearing the sound of an engine, Zach pushed himself to his feet. The blinding white headlight of a snow machine swung over and past them as it crested a small incline up to the tracks.
It stopped next to the train. The driver shut down the engine and lifted up the visor of his helmet. A grinning face asked, "Have a problem here?"
"Gus!" McRoyal shouted. "Are you our taxi today?"
The man gestured to the snow machines coming up behind him, "The Salmon Run flotilla is here to serve."
Several people cheered. Sasha waved at the new arrivals. "Ever ridden a snow machine before?"
"No, but I've ridden a 4-wheeler."
"Good, that will help you in the summer. A snow machine is easier, but you have to watch out for different things." Sasha left him to run towards the approaching snow machines.
He didn't even try to follow, not wanting to em
barrass himself with another fall into the snow.
His father carefully descended down out of the train to join him. "We can't say our arrival has been boring."
Zach gave a short laugh. "Nothing about Alaska has been boring."
One by one the snow machines came to a stop next to the train. With a bit of haggling and good-natured shouting the passengers of the trains paired up with the drivers. Several of the younger kids piled into a small sled on skis behind one of the machines. Dogs jostled for position in another sled.
Zach shifted from foot to foot, warm in the new clothes, but uncertain on what they should do. He looked in the distance but didn't see any lights to indicate where Salmon Run might be. How far away was the town?
"We'll have to split into three groups," Grandpa Neeley announced, pulling one of the kids off a snow machine. "The elderly first. Jacob, get off there. You will wait until I go."
Zach grinned as the passengers changed as people volunteered for the trips. A few went back into the train.
Sasha ran back towards them. "This is so exciting. We'll be talking about this all winter."
"And this is your idea of excitement?" Zach said with a grin.
His father looked at the train. "We should head back in. It looks like the snow machines are full."
"Mr. Callahan, you go with this group," Grandpa Neeley shouted.
"What about you," Zach asked Sasha.
She shrugged as she pulled them towards Grandpa Neeley, "I'll come with the rest of my family. No big deal. Won't be more than an hour or so for them to return."
"Doc, I'm giving one of our new arrivals to you," Grandpa Neeley said to a man on a large black and red machine.
"My pleasure," the man said. "Get on the back. I'll have you in town in no time."
Grandpa Neeley frowned at the machines that were left. "Wait, we need one more. Drat, why did Nicoli leave? We weren't organized yet."
Gus leaned out the door of the locomotive. "I'm staying the night with Avery. We'll bring the Solar Express home once the aurora dies down a bit. Sasha, you know my machine. You can take it into town. Have Buck bring it back in the next batch. He couldn't get his started earlier."
"I get to drive the Zombie!" Sasha whooped, jumping in the air. She vaulted onto a snow machine.
Grandpa Neeley took a long-suffering deep breath while Zach looked at the big snow machine in question. Sasha thought she could drive it? The size of it dwarfed her.
"Fine. Sasha, you can take Zach. And drive carefully with him. This is his first time." Grandpa Neeley said.
"Do we need to bring any of our things?" His father asked, standing uncertainly next to the smaller snow machine he would be riding.
"The train shouldn't be too much behind you. Big auroras usually don't last long," McRoyal said, clapping him on the back. "Look at it as a way to see the landscape."
"Come on, Zach. We don't want them to leave us behind." Sasha twisted a key and with a yank of a cord the big engine came to life.
Seeing his father get on the other snow machine, Zach took the helmet Sasha handed to him and worked to slip it on over his hat and hood.
"There is break water further down the stream. We're taking the longer route near the plateau," the driver of his father's snow machine shouted at Sasha.
"Got it!" Sasha shouted back.
"Is it safe to go off the regular paths?" Zach asked as he adjusted the helmet.
"Regular paths? Are you serious?" Sasha laughed. "Wide-open wilderness, the Little People are hibernating so they can't cause mischief, an aurora to light our way? Get on and enjoy the ride."
"Hold on tight, Zach," his father shouted over the sounds of the engines.
Zach waved at him as he climbed up behind Sasha. "What sort of things do you watch for while driving a snow machine?"
"Snow covered logs, breaks in a river, stream or lake, hidden drops." She gunned the engine, "And crazy drivers!"
Zach grabbed the handles at the back of the seat as the machine surged forward.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Zach held on for dear life, planting his feet firmly on the sideboard railing running along each edge of the snow machine to keep his balance. The snow machine turned off the small knoll the train tracks sat on top of. When they hit the pristine snow at the base he received a cloud full of the stuff in the face.
He quickly lowered the visor of the helmet. The engine of the snow machine filled his ears as Sasha seemed determined to outrace the other drivers to town.
But as they reached the pack she slowed down. After a few minutes he decided that she'd been having a bit of fun at his expense.
She wasn't a crazy driver. She kept pace with the other snow machines in the little pack, following their tracks unless it proved too rough, and then she would veer off slightly to make her own path through the soft snow. His father turned slightly to look back at them before facing forward with a stiff back. Compared to the relaxed postures of the other snow machiners, Zach was sure he and his father stuck out like sore thumbs.
The snow machine bobbed up and down with the bumps and depressions of the landscape. After a few anxious moments, and vision of himself flying through the air when Sasha hit one of the bumps, he relaxed his death grip on the handles just below him on the side of the seat.
He pulled the helmet down a little bit, annoyed it kept slipping backwards. If he was going to be doing this a lot he needed to see about getting a helmet that fit him properly.
Sasha slowed down to follow the others as they wove in and out of a stand of trees. She reached back to push at him, shouting, "Lean with me, not against."
Zach tried, but it didn't feel natural. It would take so little for them to tip over. He liked it a lot better when they came up over a hill and broke out into a big flat area with only scattered clumps of trees. The snow machines opened up, taking off across it at full speed.
Okay, he liked the speed. Nothing to run into, nothing to worry about. Just pure speed. Maybe he could get McRoyal to bring him out to someplace like this to teach him how to drive a snow machine himself.
Feeling the first bits of cold seeping through his snow pants, he thanked his father for not listening to him about the money. He would have been frozen in his hiking boots, jeans, and denim coat. Perhaps literally.
The aurora flared above them, making the white of the snow around them reflect back brilliant red and green. Zach had to squint against the sudden brightness. Next chance he got, he was going to look up the aurora studies in Fairbanks that Sasha mentioned. Maybe they had a long-distance college course he could take.
Suddenly, through the snow pants and parka he felt a flush of warm air. The visor of his helmet fogged up, only allowing the glow of the aurora through, but not allowing him to see any shapes around him. He heard the engine of the snow machine slow down.
Where did the warmth come from? He hadn't seen anything in the large clearing to indicate a home or cabin of any kind.
The seat beneath him dropped out from under him, along with the rest of the snow machine. Along with it, even warmer air enveloped him as he fell in a kaleidoscope of lights and darks and colored lights.
#
Hawk held tight to the handles at the back of the seat, using the tension to help buffer the rising and falling of the snow machine as it bounced and glided across the snow. His arms felt ready to give out in exhaustion.
It reminded him of the summer his parents sent him off to a summer camp where everyone learned to ride horses. He'd never cared for them. Living creatures who had a mind of their own and didn't mind letting you know it.
He reminded himself that the machine was no horse. With a bit of effort he allowed himself to ride along with the motions, only to have a sharp bounce remind him how easy it would be to fall off.
Maybe having the handlebars in his hands as a driver would have helped. He didn't like having to reach partially behind him for something to hold on to.
He took a chance to glance back, re
lieved to see the bobbing headlights of the other snow machines right behind them. He didn't see Zach himself, but Sasha had to be there. Most likely the far rear machine, the one that he thought might be the paintjob of the Zombie. Well, as sure as he could tell with the sheets of snow sent up in the air by the front skis obscuring the coloring and shape.
He hoped Zach wasn't having trouble staying on the back of the one Sasha drove. The boy had never been exposed to anything like this, not even a horse. Hawk frowned. He should have made sure Zach experienced more than city life other than a little hiking, canoeing, or simple day outings.
The snow machines slowed and lined up as they approached another stand of trees. He returned his full attention to staying on the machine as it began weaving back and forth between the trees.
Zach would be fine, he told himself firmly. He was a brave kid, unlike his father.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Zach hit the bottom first with his hind end, and then after rolling, on his back.
He lay on the snow looking up, trying to figure out what just happened. The aurora must have quieted down, as the light coming through the fogged helmet was almost gone. And a different color. Much more to the red.
The sound of the snow machine engine cut out.
In the silence he heard a soft whooshing noise that sounded nothing like the engines of the other snow machines. His dazed head instantly cleared as a feeling of dread descended on him.
Zach sat up quickly and pulled and tugged at the helmet. "Sasha? Are you here? Something wrong? What happened to the engine?"
"I'm here," Sasha said from somewhere to his right.
Zach let out a relieved breath. At least he hadn't been abandoned.
"We have a problem."
He didn't like how she said that. The helmet finally slipped off and he could see his surroundings again.
What there was of it.
No hills or mountains around them. No trees or wide-open snowy plains. No forests predominated by pine or spruce trees. No wide sky with the dancing aurora.
