Winter Sky
Page 15
The locomotive belched a stream of black smoke as its metal wheels began to spin. Slowly, it started moving down the tracks, steam hissing from the leaking brake lines. The train was packed. But still more panicked refugees were pushing and fighting to get on, many of them crying in despair as the train began to roll. An old man stood in front of the locomotive, demanding that it stop, but the train moved slowly forward and pushed him out of the way. Inside the cars, the refugees huddled together, praying for the locomotive to keep going while giving thanks for having made it on board. Outside, people hung from the handrails, the steps, the metal bars over the windows, anything they could grab hold of to get onto the train.
Lucas came running through the snowy fields just as the train began to gather speed. He held his wounded shoulder with his good hand, trying to minimize the pain. The white bandage had bled through, leaving a large spot of red, but he kept on running, his head down.
Cela peered through the bars and saw him running. “Lucas!” she cried. “You can make it! Lucas…!”
The train blew more black smoke and steam. Lucas raced toward the locomotive, but it passed him by. He ran beside the first car, and Cela reached out through the bars. “LUCAS, YOU CAN MAKE IT!”
Lucas reached out for the railing, stumbled, then reached again. A gnarled hand reached out to him, and he grabbed it desperately. An old man pulled him up the metal steps, and Lucas stumbled onto the train.
Minutes later, the children slumped into a corner at the back of the transport car. Lucas slid his back down the wall and hunched on the floor beside them. They sat a long moment without talking, trying to catch their breath. Lucas stared ahead, then turned to look through a slit in the wood on the back wall. He looked back toward the clump of trees…toward the open spot along the river…back toward Melina.
A long moment passed until he finally turned and stared ahead again.
Aron watched him, then crawled carefully onto his lap. Cela took his hand and held it. Lucas looked down at her and smiled. “Cela, look at me,” he said. “Aron. I have to tell you something.”
Both of the children looked up into his face. Lucas glanced away, searching for the right words, then turned back again to face them. “Cela, do you remember that you had an older brother? He was going to come home for Christmas, but then he didn’t come?”
Cela nodded in confusion.
Lucas pulled them both against his chest. “Your brother has come home for Christmas,” he said as the tears ran down his cheeks.
Neither of the children understood. Not yet. But it didn’t matter. They leaned against Lucas and closed their eyes. In moments, they were asleep.
Staring through the splintered slats, Lucas watched the trees go by and then closed his eyes as well.
Outside, the trees were heavy with snow. Then the forest broke, opening up to empty fields. The train moved beside the sparkling river underneath a cloudless winter sky, leaving behind the smoke and pain of war.
Chris Stewart is a multiple New York Times bestselling author who has published more than a dozen books, has been selected by the Book of the Month Club, and has released titles in multiple languages in six countries. He is a world-record-setting Air Force pilot (fastest nonstop flight around the world) and former president and CEO of The Shipley Group, a nationally recognized consulting and training company. Currently, he is a U.S. Congressman representing the 2nd Congressional District in Utah.