He wondered what Kansas was like. He’d never been there.
*****
Amarillo, Texas
It was early evening as the freight train slowed for Amarillo. Bart and Danny hung precariously off either side of the train watching the sights while acting as lookouts.
When they slowed further, Bart realized they were stopping and really started paying attention to their surroundings. Carefully he examined the run-down buildings separated from the track by a battered fence.
The train was still rolling when he noticed a figure slouched against the fence. The guy on the ground looked drunk or high. The train finally stopped about a hundred yards past the guy. He turned to Danny, “Better keep an eye out. There’s some guy back there leaning against the fence. Looks drunk.”
Danny moved around to look out the other side, nodding, and went back to watch his own side.
Ten, twenty minutes later Bart stood up straight, his adrenaline starting to surge, “Shit, we got company.” He wasn’t sure what to do.
He could see three young guys walking up the track, they must have stepped through the fence somewhere near the back of the train. Now they were almost even with the guy passed out against the fence. Bart wasn’t sure what to expect and jumped slightly when one of them gave the drunk against the fence a vicious kick.
The drunk startled awake and looked up at the three with his head cocked to the side. Bart couldn’t hear the words, but the voices sounded threatening. Then the three closed in, encircling the guy. He suddenly felt his own anger rising, “Aw, don’t do that. The poor guy’s hammered.”
Danny tried to push in beside him. The gang was throwing the odd kick and punch. The kid rubbed his sweaty palms together.
“I can’t watch this happen. Those fuckers aren’t that big and there’s only three of them.” Bart jumped off the train car and headed back up the track before Danny could stop him.
Bart had been drunk and alone once when some jocks had pushed him around and given him a few bruises. He wasn’t going let it happen to this guy. He started to run, picking up speed, hitting the three guys from behind. They didn’t even hear him coming.
With both arms out, he clotheslined the heads on the left and right, and body slammed the middle one. Bodies bounced off the fence. Bart used the element of surprise to his advantage. Coming up swinging, he clocked the one on the left good. The guy went over backwards just as he’d been trying to get up.
Danny stood frozen, watching while Bart landed another good shot, then the third guy grabbed him from behind. While he was held in place, one of them got up and drove his fist into Bart’s face.
When two more came running out of nowhere to join the scrap, things changed. Bart was fighting a losing battle, even as he got the guy off his back. There were three of them in good shape, and the one on the ground that was pissed and bleeding. The first one was still out cold.
They backed off, forming a semi-circle. The only thing moving was the drunk, as he crawled away from the forest of legs surrounding him. The troublemakers focused on their new target.
“Hey, assholes,” Danny strode towards the group with his hands held out at his sides.
The distraction was all Bart needed and he swung at the nearest thug. The others backed up a second and spit their force. Two went at Bart, while two attempted to intercept Danny.
Never a fighter, instead of squaring off and looking for an opening, Danny walked right up to the first one and reached for his head with both hands.
Out of the corner of his eye Bart saw the guy let go with a punch that caught Danny square in the face. The blow seemed to just bounce off. His partner now had the thug’s head firmly in his grasp, pushing backwards, using his own momentum until the guy went right over.
Danny followed the guy to the ground, hands wrapped in fistfuls of wiry hair. When Bart got another chance to look, Danny was smashing the guy’s head into the gravel. Once, twice, three times. Then the thug’s buddy tackled Danny, knocking him away from his unconscious partner.
As he rolled and tumbled with his new opponent, Danny managed to get ahold of an arm. When they stopped rolling, he twisted and turned the arm at an impossible angle. The guy screamed and Danny took the arm another six inches until he heard a snap. He let go quickly, and the arm hung at an unnatural angle, twisted and contorted.
Bart had one of his attackers down, the other was kicking at him. Approaching from the rear, Danny kicked the attacker hard in the back of the leg, as the guy folded backwards he grabbed two handfuls of hair.
The closest immovable objects were the round metal fence posts. Danny swung the guy’s head sideways. The first attempt drove his victim’s head into the fence post, then a second, and third, hollow tone rung out as the guy went limp and Danny dropped him to the ground.
“Shit man, you’re an animal.” Bart watched his buddy start to shake.
“What do you mean?” Danny wasn’t sure of anything at that moment.
“You beat those guys stupid man. Wow.” Bart really was impressed.
“I don’t know how to fight. I just knew I had to help.” Danny looked around at the crumpled bodies, the grubby bum, the leaning fence, he was lost for a moment.
“Sure, you don’t know how to fight. Sure.” Bart laughed.
The sound of shuffling on the gravel made them turn. The drunk was a little more with it, lifting his hand. “Thanks guys. Fucking assholes.”
Bart assumed he meant the attackers. “No problem. We thought you needed a hand.”
“Where you going?” The bum looked up at them through squinting eyes.
“We’re on this train, so we’re probably moving shortly.” Bart looked up and down the track.
“No. Trains sit here all night. They load in the morning and then head out. See it all the time.”
Bart didn’t know what to say to that. It looked like they were stopped for the night. “Fuck, that sucks.”
“You guys need anything? Booze, Pot? I can help you out there. I owe you that.”
Danny shook his head, but Bart was all in. “We could use a few joints for the road, and I’d like a beer.” Then he looked back at the train, “but we don’t want to go far from the track.”
“It’s okay.” The guy struggled off his ass and wobbled towards the back of the train, “It’s not far, just over this way.”
They let the guy walk ahead of them a bit to see if he was actually going somewhere. When it seemed he was, Bart looked at Danny and raised his shoulders in question.
“I’m not sure, what about out stuff?” Danny asked.
“Let’s throw it under that tree on the side of the track in case the train leaves. We won’t have to carry it.”
Quickly, Danny climbed up into the locomotive and rustled up Bart’s bag and his suitcase. Placing them against the fence, they ran to catch up to the swerving drunk who was using the fence to help himself walk.
*****
Texas
Sam Dorson was in a foul mood. The train must be having some kind of problem. It had pulled onto a siding in the middle of the afternoon, and they were still sitting there as it became dark. And they couldn’t just jump on another one flying by on the main line.
He figured he and the boys were stuck until the train was fixed or someone decided they were ready to move again. Sam kicked his foot at a rock on the sidehill and looked around at the others sitting or lying in and around the boulders.
This hadn’t happened before, not in the ten years that he had been on the rails. Shitty luck. It would have to happen out here at night with nothing around. That wasn’t what was pissing him off the most though, he kept thinking back to the women they’d lost in Eagle Pass.
Imagine the time he’d be having now. Stopped here on a beautiful night with three young ones. That would have passed the time quite nicely. He kicked another rock, harder.
If there was anything that kept him going, it was the thought of what was going to happen to the next wo
man that they did get their hands on. Well, first it would be his hands, then the boys would get their chance. He didn’t know who it was going to be, just he was going to enjoy it.
Sam kicked a third rock, this time with a slight smile playing on the corner of his mouth. He was a patient guy, there would be another one. Shortly, he hoped. Patience did have its limits.
El Paso has always been good to him, he just needed to get there.
*****
Las Vegas, Nevada
The sounds of the casino’s nightlife all merged together in a pounding rhythm. Lights twirled on the ceilings, different colors flashing out in sequence. The sirens and bells of the slot machines rang out. You could just stand there and be entertained.
Bobby was out tonight for one thing only. Women. He usually gambled in the mornings, there were fewer people in the place. When he felt like some tang, he would go out at night, drop some cash and take his pick. Hey, somebody had to do it.
These days he had a lot of friends in the clubs and casinos. He tipped well. That, he’d found, got him attention and service, two things he liked. With a little extra to spend, from the dues paid by his crew, he was feeling good and ready to try some black jack.
But he wasn’t in a hurry. He chatted with the waitresses and slapped a few friends on their backs. He would gamble a bit first, but at some point tonight he’d get down to business.
A woman walked by wearing a tight little leopard print dress that stopped well above her knees, a set of long lean legs led his eyes to the matching four-inch heels. Who cared, because it sure looked good.
Another woman, one he knew, walked up and put her arm around his waist, “Hi handsome, looking for some fun tonight?”
He was, but not with her. He wanted something new. But he liked having something ready to go just in case, “Not tonight sexy, but we do have to get out sometime.”
“You know where to find me.” She smiled as she slid away, disappearing into the crowd.
He laughed out loud, he sure did. Then the lure of the table started to pull at him and he aimed for the green felt. He was hearing the dealer’s voice before he even got there, “The man scores a twenty-one.” Bobby smiled as he pulled out a chair and put his chips on the table.
Chapter 10
Salt Lake, Utah
Locomotive number 65652 pulling thirty-five freight cars neared the outskirts of Salt Lake. Cliffy was thinking about sitting on the deck with his feet up on the railing, watching the sunset. Then his cell phone rang.
For a second he looked at the thing like it was a foreign object. His elation at being home was soon swallowed up. He didn’t even want to answer it. Somehow he knew this was bad news. Real bad. “Number one.”
“Ah, yeah, boss, sixty-two here. We got problems,” said a shaky voice.
Cliff stalled long enough to pull out his book and flip through until he found number sixty-two. Brent Coney. Cliff had never heard of the guy. Expansion could be a bitch and now he had to deal with it. “What’s going on Brent?”
“Ah, someone locked the crew in a boxcar.” He hesitated. “Then they lit the thing up with gasoline.”
“What?” Cliff’s mouth reacted before his brain could think.
“They were burned alive inside the boxcar. It’s all over the news and everything.”
Jesus Christ. He looked around his boxcar and tried to imagine. Then it dawned on him, “Who was in the car?”
“Sorry, Sir. Number three for sure, and maybe four others.”
He couldn’t believe Dougie was gone. They’d been together since the beginning. With Albert down as well, that meant the gang was down to three of the original five. This was crazy. Cliff had been on the road for almost three days now, he was tired and his reactions were slower than he would have liked. He took a second before deciding what to do.
“Okay, Where did it happen and where is the rest of the crew?”
“Between Kansas and Topeka. We’re all at Doug’s place holing up until we could get ahold of someone.”
Cliff knew where the house was. “I’ll be there soon as I can, probably tomorrow afternoon. I’m leaving Salt Lake now.”
The train hadn’t even pulled into Salt Lake and he was already thinking about where he had to be to catch the eastbound. Now he had to get to Des Moines, which is exactly where he’d been heading three days ago when this all started.
Cliff was angry at having to change his plans again. Firmly, he pushed aside random images of the inside of a burning boxcar that were trying to invade his brain. He couldn’t imagine burning alive, but then he couldn’t imagine the torture that the other two guys had gone through either. None of it was making any sense.
No fucking sense at all.
*****
Reno, Nevada
Sarah steeled herself for the next five minutes. The cleaning lady was about to do her room. In other words, the old bag was going to walk in and walk right back out. She never did a thing.
She would point out items of concern, the dirt on the window or the dust in the corners, but the woman never listened. The cleaner knew Sarah would keep the place clean. All she ever did was walk a broom from the door to the window and back, spraying some air freshener on the way out.
There was no use saying anything. She had tried that, and the old bag had a vicious mouth. She’d warned Sarah to mind her business and not report a thing. So she kept quiet.
She waited until the door slammed shut and then leaned her head back in the chair. Concentrating, she forced herself to stop shaking. Starting with her head and shoulders, then the rest of her body, she focused until her feet finally settled on the floor.
Her patience was shot. She looked back at the bed, she didn’t need to get the silk handkerchief out again, just knowing it was there was enough. For the first time in a long time her mind was thinking about the future, and she realized that this place wasn’t part of it.
All the little things were standing out clearly now as she took a series of deep breaths to relax. With her eyes closed she could see the flower, as if she was holding in front of her face.
She wasn’t seeing the softness, or the way the petals rippled and curved. Her mind was seeing the meaning behind the object. The implications were enormous, the hope it brought was intoxicating.
Sarah moved past her anger at the hired help, looking at the endless possibilities that lay ahead. She was starting to feel alive.
*****
Amarillo, Texas
The drunk continued to lead them along the tracks, until they came to an intersection where two sets of tracks crossed over each other. One set went north/south, the other east/west.
The drunk turned and went along the other track until he came to an abandoned building set back from the rails. The place looked empty until the boys heard the music.
Danny slowed up a bit while he scanned the outside. He didn’t have a choice but to follow when Bart and the drunk marched up the stairs. He was surprised to see so many people inside the building. A couple of girls and five guys sat around a picnic table. A small fire burning in a rusted barrel appeared to be for light more than anything else.
The group around the table looked at the newcomers suspiciously while they questioned the drunk. His story about being attacked and the help he got changed the mood in the room immediately. He told the group that Bart and Danny were there to buy.
“What you looking for?” One of the men at the table asked.
“We have about ten bucks and would like a few joints and a few beer if that’s alright?” Bart took the lead.
“Hey man, no problem. You help Ricko here, we help you.”
The guy put a six-pack on the table and a small pile of weed, at least enough for a few puffs. “Thanks a lot there buddy, Danny you want a beer?”
“Sure.” Danny grabbed one and moved aside to take a drink. Idly he turned, looking around at the place they’d ended up in. The inside walls were sprayed with graffiti, like people had been ha
nging out here for years. The sofas and rugs probably come from a dumpster. Obviously this place had been in use for a while. A music system blasted, some rap he didn’t recognize echoed through the hallways and empty rooms.
Danny caught a flicker of light from somewhere down a hall. There were other people in the place, lazily he wondered what was going on down there. He left Bart talking with the people at the table and casually followed the light towards the back of the building.
There was different music and the sound of more voices coming from that direction. Danny was curious, but he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to just walk around anywhere he wanted. He looked over his shoulder and one of the guys at the table noticed him.
“Hey look, this one wants to see the needle boys.” The guy waited while everyone turned to Danny, “Hey buddy, you don’t want to see what’s in there. But go ahead make your day.” Then he laughed. “Make my day.”
That was all the kid needed to hear, his feet started moving even though he wasn’t sure what he was going to see. Pausing for a second to take a breath and prepare himself before the last step, he stood in the open doorway and looked in.
The dude on the end of the table moved quickly to cover his leg with a blanket. But the other two just sat there and looked at him defiantly while Danny sucked in his breath in shock.
He held the breath while he forced his brain to think. Holy shit. What the fuck was this?
Danny knew he was still holding his breath, but couldn’t make his lungs open and close. This was the freakiest thing he’d ever seen. His stomach moved and he realized he might puke. His mouth was hanging open and it must have bothered one of them.
“Hey what the fuck you looking at? You got a problem?”
Danny finally let his first breath out and sucked in some new air. Blinking rapidly he tried to settle his pounding heart. “Sorry there buddy, I… I never seen anything like this before.” He was lying, he was sure he knew what it was, but he never expected to see it in person.
He summoned up his courage. “Is this Krokodile?”
All three of the men in the room had patches of scaly brownish skin. Danny knew that was where the drug got its name, the user’s skin started to look like crocodile skin. This was a drug that was ravaging Russia. He didn’t know it had come to America.
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