by Terry, Mark
Inside the armored freight car, Vasili pointed his Remington out the forward gun slit. “Sharp eyes, comrades. There is something out there.”
“What the hell did you see?” Custer asked. He stood in the center of the car. His crossbow lay strapped around his chest, and he had a Remington in each hand. His breath came quick. As the train moved forward, the shadows shifted, and then they entered open terrain.
A tremendous blow to the side of car came and Vasili staggered back. The metal frame buckled considerably.
Custer lay on the cold metal floor, knocked off his feet. He looked up at Vasili. “What now?”
Vasili and the others moved slowly to the opposite side of the car. Custer looked back at the buckled steel wall.
As the eastbound train emerged from under the depot station cover, the hired lawmen on the roof of the armored freight car glanced in all directions as the light faded. One of them spotted the human-like figure about a hundred yards east of them, standing perfectly erect—atop a forty-foot power pole jutting from the depot rooftop.
The figure leaped from the pole and landed gracefully atop the next, thirty yards away.
Johnson checked his weapon, tapped Brummel on the shoulder, and gestured toward the belt cartridge. He swung the 1893 Gatling in the direction of the strange figure. His comrade started up the belt cartridge motor, the men stuffed cotton into their ears, and the six barrels belched steel and fire. The second Gatling team opened fire as well.
The dark figure hopped from one delicate perch to another, lifting off the third pole a moment before .30 caliber slugs tore it into splinters.
Wedderburn had one last jump to make before he ran out of power poles and Johnson had gotten the rhythm. A storm of lead met the Gunslinger, the small bore cartridges tearing through the shirt, jacket, pants and vampire flesh at the rate of two thousand feet per second. The impact flung the vampire in the air like a ragdoll on hidden strings, and he fell through a ragged hole in the depot roof.
As the tanker train and its armored car pulled farther from the depot, it's highly polished bands, pipe and trim glinted in the fading sunlight. Johnson and Brummel slapped each other on the shoulder.
Brummel laughed, nearly missing the figure approaching from above, as he swung the glare of light across the sky. The violet beam struck Dreadlocks high in the body and directly in the face, illuminating her for a brief moment. Most of her body remained in the moonlight, but it didn’t help. She staggered back and then her head turned gray and burst into ash.
Brummel looked down at the light in his hands, astonished. Three more vampires roaring with fury burst out of the darkness ahead of the train. The Pinkerton looked down at the light in his hands, smiled and aimed it into the air. The Gatling in the rear stall opened fire into the sky. The vampires scattered into the darkness with a chorus of howls.
Custer made his way from the front of the armored car onto the connecting platform and stood on the lifeline walkway. The blonde Pinkerton fired an automatic crossbow, sending multiple projectiles sailing up into a bartender hovering fifty feet in the air. One of the crossbow quarrels struck the vampire through the left lens of his glasses. The bartender bared his fangs and lunged. The aft Gatling roared in its direction and tore the undead mixologist apart.
This didn’t seem to faze the bloodsucker, however. Body and clothes in rags, he outstretched his mangled claws as the bullets lit his clothes aflame. The flaming barkeep picked up Custer and threw him straight in the air, watching the screaming man sail into the stars.
Another Pinkerton emerged onto the walkway wielding his double-barreled Hollenbeck and fired both barrels—blowing a sizable cavity in the fiery barkeep’s chest.
The vampire turned toward the bounty hunter, but then the hole in his chest sparked and smoked. A puzzled look overtook the four-eyed vampire before he burst into ash.
The bounty hunter holding the smoking Hollenbeck spat into the ashy mist. “That’s worth a roll of silver dimes!”
Custer fell out of the sky screaming, arms wheeling. He landed on the armored car, bounced off the train roof with a tremendous WANG, and the broken body flipped into the darkness.
Wedderburn burst into the air and landed atop the Union Depot rooftop, caving in the arched metal rafting. His eyes glowed red and he snarled.
The bounty hunters in the aft tender platform opened fire with the Gatling again. One of the spotlights shined into Wedderburn's face. The three vampires who had appeared in front of the train assembled again and the Gunslinger snarled. They turned and rushed the train in unison.
A grandmotherly vampire wielding a garden hoe rushed forward and slammed against the wall of the armored car. Her arm curled inside one of the gun ports, and with a growl, she peeled back the side of the armored car like opening a tin can.
Brummel swung the light downward and the grandmotherly bloodsucker screeched and bolted. The diminutive Pinkerton laughed and then a young vampire school-boy appeared behind him and grabbed him by the head. He screamed.
Johnson still pointed the Gatling into the sky without a target when he looked over his shoulder at the sound. He reached towards Brummel as the vampire hefted him into the air. The two hovered a moment as the young bloodsucker adjusted his grasp, and then they vanished straight up. Johnson watched them disappear, and then the bloodsucking grandmother buried the garden tool in his chest.
The sun crept behind the horizon and inside the armored railcar it grew dark. The two figures huddled in the far end who had not yet raised a weapon stood. A bald Pinkerton shrugged off a gray wig and Edison’s overcoat to reveal a chest of Walker Colts. A smaller man took off the spring hat and shrugged out of the Victorian dress, balling it up.
“Think you look pretty good in it,” the bald bounty hunter snickered.
The smaller bounty hunter sneered as he picked up a rifle. “Say that again.”
An unearthly screech came from outside.
“Let’s do this,” the bald man said.
Interlude 65
Saturday, March 18, 1893, 6:23 p.m.
Outside Union Depot, Kansas
Tesla, Ida and Edison crouched in the corner of the engine cab of the Jenny Lind as it moved west out of Union Depot, iron wheels pulling it slowly out onto the Kansas Prairie. From Missouri, two rail lines branched into the horizon. The Kansas Pacific headed through Lawrence and Topeka before going on to Denver. It rose to over a thousand feet elevation across the prairie, and where its passengers could look back and see the depot, Kansas City, and the train routes headed east.
In the cab of the Jenny Lind, Grgor managed the boiler and Simon operated the Johnson bar and throttle.
Edison shook his head in disgust. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”
“Zalazak sunca,” Grgor barked.
“What did he say?” Edison asked Tesla.
“Sundown.” Tesla rose to his feet, took out his Victorian gentry field glasses and focused them east on the tanker train fading in the distance. He could see vampires clambering over the 4-4-2 juggernaut. Tesla adjusted a dial and the train came clearer into focus. He could make out several vampires swarming the tank locomotive. He looked at Edison and handed him the binoculars.
Wedderburn burst high into the sky, passing through a bank of clouds and throwing out his fists in a burst of both joy and frustration.
The Pinkerton with the chest full of Walker Colts stepped up to the edge of the gaping hole in the armored car. Both hands held Colts pointed into the sky. The arm and head of a vampire with buck teeth and bloody overalls reached out toward him with a snarl and he fired both six guns until they clicked empty.
The bald Pinkerton slid two more cartridges into his Hollenbeck and pointed it through the gaping tear in the side. A tremendous clamor rocked the armored car. As the Pinkerton fell on his back the shotgun went off, firing into the side of the car. The reinforced steel door ripped from its hinges. Both Pinkertons in the car staggered. The ba
ndolier bounty hunter struggled to pull two more Colts from his vest when a section of the wall came clean off. He glanced up and saw a matronly grandmother hanging off the side of the train, one hand on the door grip, one foot on the edge, the rest of her dangling in the air, as she tossed the one-ton door into the darkness.
She showed a full mouth of bloody teeth, and a slight wind blew through her hair. “Hello dearie,” she said. Then she reached in, grabbed one foot of the gunfighter with the Colt Walkers, and they both disappeared out the door.
A scream came out of the darkness. The Pinkerton with the Hollenbeck paused for a moment and heard another gunshot. Then he stepped to the edge of the open car and looked into the sky.
The grandmotherly smile and gray curls appeared from over the rooftop. “You too, dearie,” the vampire said, clamping over the bald gunfighter’s face with her long claws.
“We’re not going to capture him now,” Edison grumbled, handing the binoculars to Ida.
She peered through them at the train and let out a soft, “Oop!”
Tesla squeezed the large release lever bar that rose from the floor of the 2-2-2 and shoved it all the way forward.
Ida stared into the sky, wielding a shotgun. “Looks like we were damn lucky we weren’t on that train, Mr. Edison.”
Beside her, Grgor engaged the drive-shaft driven by the steam piston that extended the length of the ceiling and drove the rotating props.
“I don't believe you are going to get this to work!” Edison said, grunting.
Tesla opened the cylinder lock in front of him and turned it clockwise. “It will work. The pitch angle of the rotor blades is the key.”
“I really don’t understand, Nikola,” Ida said.
Tesla threw the engine brakes fully and then advanced the throttle. The engine moved slightly, steam came out of the cock exhaust and he closed the cylinder. “It’s pitch angle of rotor blades. Answer lay in pitch angle.”
“The Magnus effect is not enough to raise the machine off the ground, Tesla!” Edison grunted, loading another shovelful of coal.
Tesla folded down a small step ladder. “It’s Bernoulli principle!”
Ida looked up around the edge of the engine rooftop to watch Simon and Tesla working on attaching a set of cylinders, one atop the next, just aft of the smokebox. “What does he mean?” she asked Edison.
“Bernoulli's principle is the principle of airflow. But I don't know what he could—wait!” Edison set the shovel against the wall of the cab and moved to the drop down ladder. “Newton's Third Law!” he shouted.
Tesla looked down approvingly, then nodded to Simon. They drew all the sleeves off the cylinders to reveal long rotor blades that were attached in segments. Both men grasped the tower of vertical blades, rotated it ninety degrees and it made an audible click as it fastened into place. The men stepped back as the blades lowered and their segments extended, making the blades twice as long as when they stood vertical. The engine picked up speed as they descended.
“You’re both mad,” Ida said. “And I don’t understand a thing you both said.”
“You’ve heard the principle, nature abhors a vacuum, yes?” Edison said.
“Yes.”
“When the blade is lifted, it's called pitch. What he’s going to do is increase the pitch and try to increase the lift. The greater the angle, the greater the air has to flow under the rotor, increasing the lift. That will lead to the Bernoulli principle.”
Tesla, Grgor and Simon were all fastening a second set of rotors to the roof of the engineer box. The sleeves came off, the rotors lowered and extended in the same way the previous set had, and the men all climbed back down into the engineer’s cab. Ida and Edison were holding their shotguns and staring into the sky.
“This is insane Nikola.” Ida shook her head.
Tesla reached up to the small electric motor in the roof, moved one wire to an electrode and threw a small lever. A brief spark of blue electricity shined around the engine, and then a small hum started in the roof. “Not insanity. Is physics! For inviscid flow of non-conducting fluid—such as air—an increase in speed of fluid occurs simultaneously with decrease in pressure or decrease in fluids potential energy. The rotors are shaped and angled so as to produce faster stream of air over rotor.”
All the passengers in the Jenny Lind looked at the ceiling as the motor hummed at a much higher pitch. Grgor and Simon leaned out opposite sides of the cab, checked the rotating blades, brought their heads back in, and nodded at Tesla.
“Nikola, what does all that mean?” Ida pleaded. The pitch of the rotors increased, and the locomotive trembled. Everyone grabbed a handhold.
“It means, the angle of the rotor causes the air to move more quickly above the rotor than it does beneath it.” The locomotive shook and bumped.
“How did you adjust for translating tendency?” Edison asked, his words stuttering as he held to the handrail with both hands. “You don't have any tail rotor.”
“The dual rotor reduces pendular action and combats Coriolis effect. Hold here.” Tesla grabbed Edison's right hand and placed it on a lever protruding from the ceiling. “When we are ready to move forward, I will tell you.” He grabbed Ida’s hand and placed it on a second lever on the opposite side. “When we need to turn!”
Slowly, the grinding of wheels on rails faded. The train skipped once, landed on the rails for the last time and then the Jenny Lind engine took flight.
Tesla motioned to Edison. “Forward!”
Edison pushed his lever forward. The flying locomotive veered to the right.
“Forward, I said,” Tesla yelled, and pulled the joystick slowly to the left.
“I moved it forward!” Edison gruffed.
“Is called gyroscopic precession. Didn’t you come across this when you were building your gyrocopter?” The locomotive slowly straightened out. He waved at Ida. “Pull us back to left.”
Ida looked at the handle and back at Tesla with raised eyebrows.
“Pull handle towards you—slowly.”
Ida did so and the locomotive pulled back to the left, resuming its previous course.
Tesla smiled and exhaled. The wind howled through the open compartment. “Bohnenberger, 1817. Is called gyroscopic precession. The deflection of a spinning object when pressure is applied to it. It's ninety degrees later in plane of rotation from application of pressure.”
Edison looked at him with confusion.
Tesla rolled his eyes. “No wonder your autogiro wouldn’t fly!” He looked at Ida. “Think of it like skipping rocks. Buoyancy is caused by impact pressure from water. Deflection of water from rock keeps it afloat. Get it?”
Ida nodded, wind blowing her hair.
Tesla looked from Ida to Edison. “The same with air. Angle of blade causes deflection of air, reducing pressure, and giving lift.”
“Well, Mr. Tesla. I hope you know what you’re doing!” she shouted, pointing into the open air. “Because we’re goddamn well flying!”
Interlude 66
Saturday, March 18, 1893, 7:13 p.m.
In the Skies Above Kansas
Wedderburn landed on the steam dome snarling, his eyes blazing red. The two Pinkertons in the rear gun placement saw him and swung the electric Gatling one hundred eighty degrees. Wedderburn turned his head and waved a hand. An ultraviolet beam aft of the engine hit the Gunslinger in the face, and his snarling visage dissolved into a very human face.
Three phantom streaks hit the remaining Gatling from different directions. The two Pinkertons screamed as the metal structure ripped off its fittings and disappeared into the night. The Gunslinger’s beastly visage returned in the moonlight, and he let out a beastly roar and dropped through the open roof into the car. There were gunshots and a brief scream before the back of car exploded outward. From the sky, phantom shapes descended onto the roof of the second freight car. The grandmotherly vampire, a newspaper boy with an arrow through his neck and missing most of
his right arm, and a portly farmer in blood-stained overalls appeared on the roof moving with the speed of the undead.
The Gunslinger growled, his red eyes narrowed, and he turned his back to the four men. He stepped back to the open doorway and tipped his head up, sniffing deeply. He inhaled several times, and then he lifted high into the air.
Milo sat crouched on the cowcatcher at the front of the train, watching the sky. He saw Wedderburn lift into the sky and head west. “Master,” he whispered. Milo waved to the vampire in overalls who dropped out of the sky towards him.
Grgor checked the sight glass and shouted over the howling wind, “Razina vode vidljiva!”
“What did he say?” Edison shouted at Tesla.
Tesla waved his hand as he watched Simon throw another shovel of coal into the firebox. “Water level is—is good,” he shouted over his shoulder as he slammed the tinderbox door shut. The locomotive shuddered. Tesla grabbed Ida’s hand and pulled her across the cabin. “We’re weighted incorrectly!” he shouted over the wind. He placed her hand on a bar at the back of the cabin. “Hold here!”
“What’s the matter?” Ida asked
“If we’re loaded out of center of gravity,” Tesla motioned to Simon to move further forward in the car, “it would throw off our stability. We might not be able to pull cyclic back and arrest our forward movement if we fly towards mountain!” Tesla nodded at Grgor who adjusted his weight on the opposite side of the car.
The locomotive dropped, Edison hit the roof, and the rest were knocked off their feet. Then the locomotive went vertical for several moments. Tesla struggled to pull himself upright against the force of the lift crushing him down. Simon and Grgor both struggled to get even to their knees. Finally the movement stopped. Tesla looked about.