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Clockwork Legion (Aboard the Great Iron Horse Book 4)

Page 3

by Jamie Sedgwick


  Kale tossed the table leg aside and bent over him. He took the dagger from Flynn’s hand. “Now,” he said. “Anyone else care to volunteer?”

  There was a shadow in the corner of his eye, but Kale couldn’t react before the cold blade of a dagger touched his throat.

  “I think it’s time for you to leave,” said a hoarse voice. Kale recognized it as Sir Bane. He glanced around the room. The sleeping knights had begun to rouse themselves to observe the fight. Those who had been playing cards stood back, watching. Flynn, somewhat recovered now, crawled to his feet.

  Kale threw his head back, smashing the back of his skull into Bane’s face. The middle-aged knight fell back, crying out as blood gushed from his broken nose. He dropped to his knees and went scrambling back, away from the fight.

  Flynn took a step in Kale’s direction. Kale’s arms swung in a blur, and the stiletto flew past Flynn’s face, barely grazing his cheek. It thudded into the wooden post behind him.

  Flynn snarled. He took a step closer, his arm raised to strike. Kale stepped inside the swing and brought his fist up, driving it into Flynn’s jaw. The young knight stumbled back.

  Kale advanced, taking a second swing. This time, his left hand connected solidly with Flynn’s forehead. The young knight dropped like a sack of rocks. He crumpled, landing on top of a sleeping knight, and lay there with his head lolling back. Flynn didn’t move. Kale stared down at him a moment. Once he was certain the fight was over, he raised his gaze and found the other knights glaring at him.

  “Well?” he shouted. “Who’s coming with me?”

  They all rushed him at once.

  Chapter 3

  Micah was in a nervous panic. The halfling paced back and forth across the locomotive platform, in and out of the cab, leaning over the rail now and then to peer out into the jungle. What he saw there sent shivers crawling up and down his spine. He was tempted to open the communication pipe again and find out what was taking Socrates so long.

  As he spun around for the tenth time, Socrates and River burst through the door of the tender car and onto the platform. Micah let out a gasp, and stumbled back against the wall with his hands on his heart. His wide-brimmed hat fell down over his eyes.

  “What’s going on?” River demanded, staring down at him like a scolding mother with her hands on her hips. “Why did you hit the brakes?”

  “Devils, don’t do that!” Micah said, adjusting his hat. The long colorful feather sticking out of the hatband brushed against the wall behind him. “You nearly stopped my heart.”

  River glared at him. “Micah, you can’t just-”

  Micah put his finger to his lips in a shushing gesture. He poked his head around the corner of the cab. River leaned around behind him and her jaw dropped as she saw the cause of their sudden stop.

  Down the embankment to their left, less than fifty yards from the track, was an exact replica of the Iron Horse. Just like the Horse, it was at least twice the size of an ordinary train, requiring a double set of tracks. Each rail car was approximately the size of a small two-story house. There were only a dozen cars however, and the last few were lying on their sides at the end of the train. The locomotive at the front was tilted precariously, with the broken railroad tracks projecting up out of the undergrowth in front of it.

  “What does it mean?” River said under her breath. Socrates shifted, and she became aware of the ape’s presence next to her. His stiff blue fur grazed her arm and something inside of him made a quiet whirring noise.

  “I don’t know,” the steam-powered gorilla said in a low, quiet voice. “I can only guess this train originated in Sanctuary. It must have been here for centuries.”

  “What happened to it?” Micah said. Socrates glanced down at him. The tiny exhaust chimney behind the ape’s ear glimmered in the sunlight.

  “It appears this train derailed, or at least that that the tracks were damaged. I wonder whether the builders ever learned of its fate.”

  “There are more tracks?” said Micah. “What for?”

  “They’re old,” said River. “The steamscouts must have laid new tracks around the crash site.” She narrowed her eyes as she stared at the ancient vehicle. “Socrates, I think somebody’s in there.”

  They all stared. Here and there, every few seconds, they caught a glimpse of a shadow moving behind the foggy, mildew-covered glass.

  “Who could it be?” Micah said.

  River shrugged. “Could be animals. Or maybe someone discovered the train and turned it into a shelter.”

  “Or maybe they’re hiding,” Socrates said, nodding his head. River followed his gaze. Her eyebrows narrowed as she saw a massive reptilian creature lurking in the woods beyond the wrecked train. It was easily thirty feet tall and twice that length from snout to tail. It stood upright on its hind legs, the two forelegs strangely undeveloped for its size, the long serpent-like tail trailing out into the jungle.

  “Socrates, there’s something strange about that dragon.”

  “It doesn’t have wings,” Micah said helpfully.

  “It’s not a dragon,” Socrates said. “It’s called a dinosaur… or, at least that’s what humans called its ancient ancestor. The original dinosaurs were already extinct when humans discovered their bones. Over the centuries, they developed numerous theories about the origins and extinction of these creatures. Most records of that time are lost, but I have numerous references in my memory banks, if you’d like to hear them.”

  “Maybe later,” River said. “Socrates, do you see what I see?”

  “Yes,” the ape said matter-of-factly. “This creature is dead. Or perhaps I should say undead.”

  Micah’s eyes doubled in size. “You mean-”

  “Yes, it’s like the Ancients in Blackstone Castle. The beast must have died weeks ago, judging by the looks of it, but the starfall in its brain remains active. I must admit, I’m not surprised. With the prevalence of starfall in this environment, I had expected to see more of this phenomenon. Frankly, that’s one reason I’ve been loathe to stop the train unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

  Micah concealed his face in his hands. “This is all my fault,” he said in a muffled voice. “I never should have pulled the brakes.”

  Socrates put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You did no wrong, Micah. This missing train might provide valuable insights into our history.”

  The halfling’s face went pale. “You don’t mean we’re staying here? It’s not safe! We should go…” He took a step toward the train’s controls. “I’ll just release the brakes, and-”

  “We can’t leave,” River said. “What if someone is trapped inside that train?”

  Micah glanced back and forth between them. His face fell as he realized they weren’t going to change their minds.

  “It wouldn’t be conscionable to proceed without further investigation,” Socrates said. “Likewise, we may find useful supplies on that train. At the very least, I would like to locate the Engineer’s log and ascertain what exactly happened here.”

  “What about the… the dinosaur?”

  “We’ll have to wait for it to wander off,” said River.

  “That may not be an option,” Socrates said, scratching his chin. “Do you see the way he’s been watching us?”

  River nodded.

  “If you recall, the previous undead creatures we encountered had a certain… predilection for the living.”

  Micah gulped. “You mean he wants to eat us?”

  “Not me,” said Socrates with a wry grin. “I’m a machine. But I’m sure he would love to eat you.”

  Micah’s glare said he didn’t appreciate the ape’s humor.

  The undead dinosaur, apparently intrigued by the Iron Horse, took a few steps closer. Micah backed across the platform, reaching for the door of the tender car. “I think we should get inside,” he said in a quivering voice.

  “Indeed,” said Socrates. “River, what weapons do we have that can kill a creature that si
ze?”

  “Are you kidding?” she said.

  “What about our muskets?”

  “Scatterguns and flintlocks,” she said. “Nothing larger than fifty caliber. That would hardly penetrate the scales. I wish we had the bonecrusher right now.”

  Socrates turned and gestured that they should go inside. As they began to move, the dinosaur broke into a run. It flew across the clearing and leapt up the hill in three strides, but by this time, the adventurers were already safely inside. That did not deter the beast. The creature’s massive jaws closed around the brass handrail at the front of the first passenger car and it began shaking left and right. The metal shrieked and bent, but held fast.

  Undeterred, the undead dinosaur moved around to the broadside of the car, where it hauled back and rammed its massive head against the framework. The passenger car shook, the heavy steel chassis squeaking as it rocked back and forth. One of the windows cracked, but otherwise the damage remained minimal.

  Socrates and River were already several cars down, casually discussing the situation as they moved deeper into the Horse. Micah had gone ahead to warn the others not to leave the train.

  “If we had a cannon,” River said, “we might be able to mount it on a steamscout. But it would take a few hours to manufacture something big enough to hurt him. That is, assuming we have a hardened steel pipe large enough.”

  “No, that’s no good,” said Socrates. “There’s no framework to mount a cannon. Besides, it wouldn’t be very useful in this terrain. The steamscouts are slow, lumbering machines.”

  As they wandered down the passageway, the undead beast finally gave up on trying to flip the car. It circled the front of the train, looking for signs of movement, unaware for the moment that its prey had already progressed deep into the bowels of the train.

  *

  Several hours later, Socrates and his crew were still trapped inside the Horse, and they had yet to develop a plan to deal with the creature. The zombie-like beast was determined to find a weakness in the train’s design. It hadn’t figured out about doors and windows yet, but River feared that it would learn soon enough. It had spent the entire morning clawing, biting, and ramming various sections of the train.

  Frustrated with their lack of progress, River approached Socrates with a plan he had already rejected once:

  “The boneshaker is perfect for this job,” she said. “With only two wheels, it’s narrow enough to move between the trees and undergrowth, and it’s faster than any animal could ever run. I’ll be fine. I’ll draw it away, and then circle back once I’ve lost it.”

  Socrates had to concede that this seemed to be their only option. “Foolhardy as your suggestion is, I can’t think of any other way to clear our path to the wreck. The more time we waste, the greater the danger… I’m concerned that if we don’t get moving soon, that creature will eventually damage the Iron Horse.”

  “Then let me go!” she pleaded. “I can do this.”

  Socrates sighed. “I’ll gather a boarding party and arm them with muskets. Please, be careful.”

  River was gone in a flash. She hurried down the passages, past Engineering and her bunkhouse, over a quarter mile to the railcar where she kept her boneshaker. It had been months since she’d used the steam-powered bike, but when she pulled the canvas away, the brass still gleamed like new.

  A large cobweb dangled from the handlebars, and another stretched across the lower part of the holding tank and the engine. River wiped the webs away with a greasy rag. She hurried to fill the tank with fresh water, and when that task had been completed, she carefully lowered a small vial of diluted starfall into the fuel chamber. The trickle of flames from the old fuel instantly ignited the new supply. River closed the burner. While the tank heated, she returned to her bunkroom for a few necessities.

  The room was dark when River entered, save for the pale light streaming in from the hall. She took a moment to open the drapes on the outer wall. The narrow shafts of light cutting through the canopy of trees illuminated the small space, revealing a single brass bed, a dresser, a washroom, and very little else.

  The place was stark, but familiar and comfortable in its own way. River was a woman of few material possessions. Her one great treasure was the spring-powered revolver she had inherited from her mother. She took it from the hook on the wall and strapped the gun belt around her hips. River checked the firearm to be sure it was loaded and the spring was wound. Satisfied, she holstered the weapon and turned to retrieve her bullwhip hanging in a coil by a second hook. She slung it through the small metal loop on her belt.

  River headed back to the bike. By the time she had returned, the boneshaker was ready to go. Through the communication pipes, she informed Socrates that she was about to leave. She unlatched the door on the boxcar wall and shoved it aside with a loud rattling noise. There was no way to do this quietly or inconspicuously, but that didn’t matter: River wanted the beast’s attention.

  River straddled the boneshaker, revved up the throttle, and kicked it into gear. The rear tired shrieked as it burned into the wood floor. It suddenly caught traction, and the bike leapt through the door. The cool, humid air washed over River. Her long blonde hair flew wild in the breeze. A world of deep green foliage spread out before her. There was a moment of almost perfect silence, and then the boneshaker landed with a whomp! The chassis squeaked and rattled, and the rear tire bit into the soft ground, throwing a spray mud and rocks into the air.

  A few hundred yards to her right, the massive reptilian beast raised its head and fixed its gaze on her. River hit the brakes and slid into a sharp turn. The rear end swung around and she came to a stop alongside the train, halfway down the slope, facing the dinosaur.

  For a moment, they just watched each other. The creature tilted its head from side to side, staring at her curiously. River twisted the throttle and made a beeline for it. The boneshaker surged forward, crashing through the ferns and bushes. Branches slapped at River’s face and arms. She had forgotten her goggles, but it was too late to turn back now. She had the creature’s full attention. The dinosaur threw its head back and roared. She saw the glimmer of intelligence in the creature’s dull blue eyes. Those eyes were dead, no doubt about it, the frozen eyes of a stiff corpse watching her from afar. And yet it wasn’t dead.

  Not dead enough, River thought.

  A few yards from the creature, River turned aside and shot down the embankment adjacent to the abandoned train. The dinosaur snapped at her as she swooped past, but River was safely out of reach. She straightened her course, shooting past the wrecked locomotive, and heading down the old tracks. The dinosaur broke into a run, snarling and slavering as it went bounding after her.

  The boneshaker rattled beneath her, the front tire bouncing erratically across the uneven terrain. Even with the modification of added springs to the seat, the machine still seemed determined to shake River’s teeth out of her skull. She gripped the handlebars and dared a glance over her shoulder. The dinosaur was just a few steps behind, snapping at her like a rabid dog.

  River dodged left and right as the ferns and branches slapped at her face. The boneshaker careened, lurching, vibrating, shaking beneath her. The land rose and fell, and River found herself speeding down a narrow incline towards a stream. The boneshaker briefly took flight and then landed with a heavy thud at the bottom of the hill. Water splashed up, spraying her face, soaking her clothes.

  The boneshaker’s front tire rebounded off the rocks like a trampoline. River almost lost control as the handlebars shook. She clenched her teeth, leaned into the bars, and headed up the embankment. As she turned to follow the trail at the crest of the hill, the pursuing monster leapt from the other side of the stream. It cleared the ravine in a single leap and landed heavily just behind her. River wound the throttle up as tight as it would go.

  The woods around her became a blur. The ferns and plant life melded into a wall of green. Shafts of sunlight slanted down through the trees, flashing in her
eyes like the beam of a crude electric lamp flickering on and off. Vines dangled down from the trees. Shadowy figures moved here and there among the canopy. The entire world seemed to close in around her, forming one long, narrow tunnel.

  The flashing light seemed to blind her. The wind was loud in her ears, the dinosaur behind her almost forgotten as the engine roared between her legs. Up ahead, the trail seemed to level out. Suddenly, the world opened up: The trees vanished. The ground disappeared. River shot over the edge of a cliff, and found herself plummeting into a vast ravine.

  Four hundred feet below, sunlight glistened on the murky green waters of a river. Tree branches stretched out overhead, vines hanging down, ferns up and down the cliff side billowing in the breeze. The rush of cold air and the spray of cool mist hit her face.

  The dinosaur let out a wail as it plummeted over the ledge behind her. River saw this out of the corner of her eye, and then noticed something else. Just in front of her, a long, narrow projectile came into view. River realized it was a thin, corroded rail of a long-collapsed railroad bridge. There wasn’t much left of the structure: a few sticks of rotten railroad ties strung between a double set of rails. Almost nothing remained of the steel cables and support struts that once held the bridge safely in the air. It hadn’t even been visible from the far bank.

  Yet it was something, and River felt a rush of adrenaline as she realized the Boneshaker was about to come down on the track. She raised herself in the seat, bracing herself for the landing. She eased back on the throttle, leaning slightly as she tried to make the boneshaker line up with the rail.

  River’s guts twisted up as she closed in. She wasn’t going to make it. The boneshaker had turned in the air. The tires weren’t going to line up… In a desperate attempt to save her life, River dumped the bike. She pushed away from the handlebars, rising to stand with one foot on the edge of the seat and the other on the frame. The bike twisted beneath her, rolling out of control.

 

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