"Petra," Kipp said, interrupting my conversation, "Fuller is beginning to waver at having us along." He'd obviously been monitoring the conductor's thoughts. "He thinks we'll hold him back, and we're not part of the railroad. He wants to leave us here."
Well, I believe in ethical conduct and all that jazz, but there are times when one just has to break the rules for a greater cause. This was one of those times.
"Kipp, I want you to go into his thoughts and insert the notion that he wants us along. And make sure it sticks," I said, glancing at my friend, my eyes narrowed. Elani looked up at me and tilted her head to the side. Reaching down, I ruffled her ears. "Sometimes, Elani, you have to do the right thing, and the right thing might not necessarily follow the book," I said. "We'll find Peter, and that's a promise."
The pole car was crowded, and the addition of me and two lupines didn't help matters, but since Kipp had left a very strong suggestion in the back of Fuller's brain, he told the others to make room as we squeezed on board the platform. Bond and one of his men jumped on, too. Instead of using the poles, Bond and the workman sat on the front edge of the platform and used their legs and feet to propel it. In a relatively short time, we actually began to pick up quite a nice bit of speed; I looked at Kipp and realized he was enjoying the thrill of the ride.
"I might have to figure out some way to get you on a roller coaster," I said, winking at him. His tongue lolled out in response. Elani stayed quiet, her worry palpable to us.
We were passing through dense, rocky terrain at times, and I marveled at how efficient the engineers had been in terms of laying out this path. In those days, construction was done the hard way. The trees, which had been cut back from the track, set up a thick barrier at the edge of old forests. Huge long leafed pine trees, dark and intimidating, intermixed with oaks, beech and poplars. Since it was early April, the new growth was bright green, only slightly darkened by the rain which had drenched the foliage. Thankfully, the rainfall, which had abated, remained on a momentary break; I crouched down on the pole car, trying to keep my balance as it rocked from side to side. Elaini lay flat while Kipp stood, splaying his feet out, his head pointed into the wind.
"Whoa," Murphy called out. The men immediately stopped their propulsion, letting their feet scrape along the ground like Fred Flintstone braking his Stone Age car. Murphy, his handsome face dark with exertion and stress, glanced back at Cain and Fuller. "They've put cross ties across the track."
The raiders not only had thrown ties on the track to slow down pursuers but also had cut the telegraph line. The pole car ground to a halt, and Fuller, Murphy and Bond jumped off and began to pull the ties to the side. Thinking I needed to make an appearance, I started to hop off the car but was stopped by a glance by Murphy, who was a tall man with dark eyes and brown hair worn unfashionably long for the day.
"I think your name is Samantha, not Sam," he said, smiling slightly. "And my poor dead father would roll in his grave if I were to let you try to lift these ties." His voice carried the lilting cadence of his Irish birth.
The other men stopped to stare at me; I could feel my face flush bright red. It must have been intuition on Murphy's part, since the others had not picked up on my disguise. Of course, Fuller had been so single-minded in his pursuit that he'd not have noticed if I'd disrobed and stood naked. And Cain was struggling, with his poor health, to just stay in the game. I smiled at Murphy and decided the disguise was at an end. While they continued to work, I removed my hat, unpinned my hair and quickly braided it, tying off the end with a piece of torn handkerchief. Murphy walked to me and tipped his rain flattened hat, smiling.
"How did you know?" I asked, looking up at him.
He smiled again, and tapped his finger at the side of his head. Wordlessly, he indicated he was just smart and perceptive. Actually, in an odd way, the fact I was female helped in the pursuit. The men were less likely to leave me abandoned in the wilderness and would feel obliged to help me find my brother. Yes, chivalry was alive and well on the tracks of the W&ARR.
The work of clearing the cross ties was not easy, since the raiders had piled at least twenty on the tracks, and it took sheer manpower to clear the way. The men hopped back on the swaying pole car, and Bond and his man used their legs and feet to push off. This time, Fuller and Murphy took a couple of the long poles and began to assist. It became clear that this was no simple abduction of the train, perhaps the work of deserters. And the pursuing men began to play with the notion that maybe the unknown gang ahead of us had more serious plans that included burning bridges. Just stealing a train would not cripple the movement of goods and troops; destroying bridges definitely would do so.
"You remind me of my wife, Adelia," Murphy said unexpectedly. "She has the same quiet ways about her, and there was something about the manner in which you carry yourself that told me you are not a man."
At the mention of his wife, I peeked into his mind and felt a wave of sentimental notions as well as his love for his bride. Looking at him, I appreciated she'd been drawn to his strength of character as well as his handsome face and robust build. He was wet and muddy like the rest of us, but he still held a dignity that was not touched by the weather or the adverse events.
"I'm glad that's over," Kipp said, sighing. "It was only a matter of time and now you don't have to try so hard to play a part. You can be yourself, uh, sort of."
"So do you and your brother always travel with your dogs?" Murphy asked.
He was curious and polite; Fuller scowled at him, not interested in my private life or that of my brother. It's not that Fuller was unpleasant; he was just single-mindedly focused on the job at hand. I harbored no ill will towards him for not showing interest in the new and unexpected fact of my femininity.
"Yes, we are very attached," I said. "This is Kipp, and that is Elani."
Murphy nodded and tried to keep a sociable conversation going as he dug the long pole into the mud and dirt by the side of the track to push us along. The pole car was small, and we were pretty jammed in together.
"I had a dog when I was a lad," Murphy said. "A terrier that helped herd the sheep. A smarter dog I've never seen. He'd snap at me when my mother made me comb the brambles from his rough coat. Never the one for the grooming was he."
Kipp rolled his eyes and looked at me, trying to get me to laugh. I knew he wanted to show off and act goofy, so I shook my head at him and tried to frown as I pursed my lips.
"Oh, come on," Kipp said. "You could have me do tricks, and it'll really impress him. He just thinks his dog was special. I could count, bark out the lyrics to a song... uh, any number of things."
I realized he was trying to lighten the mood for Elani's sake. She was worried and consumed with anxiety. Her face was pointed north, her ears swiveling constantly as if she was trying to hear the sound of the General. Peter's essence had been pinging, but the sensation was lessening due to the fact the General was lengthening its distance from us with every passing second. A few more minutes passed, and I saw a clearing ahead with another station, Ackworth, where several people clustered under a wooden shelter that extended out from a small station house. The pole car slid, shaking, to a halt; Fuller and Murphy jumped off and began explaining what had happened as well as gathering information.
"The General stopped, and a couple of men got off while the engineer took care of the engine," an old man said. His eyes narrowed as he turned to point north following the track. The man skillfully moved a wad of chewing tobacco from one cheek pouch to the other before speaking again. "They said they was on a special dispatch mission and in a hurry," he added. "Not much to say and not very sociable neither."
Fuller and Murphy began to canvass the few people present, gathering assistance as well as procuring a couple of old shotguns that looked as if they'd seen better days. The word spread quickly that a nefarious operation was in play, and excitement built in waves over the people present. Two volunteers, after grabbing their guns, jumped on board the extrem
ely crowded pole car. They looked at me in amazement before staring at Kipp and Elani.
"This is Mr. Stokely and Mr. Rainey," Murphy said, introducing them to me. No matter the situation, it seemed he needed to be mannerly and inclusive of his uninvited guests. "Gentlemen, this is Miss Samantha Keaton. Her brother has been kidnapped and is on board the General."
The men tried to not stare at my attire that was an odd choice for a lady in 1860's Georgia and managed to nod their heads politely. The two enormous lupines seemed to be more of an unexpected event than was I. The lupines and I tried to limit the square footage we occupied; I sat, my knees tucked under me with Kipp on one side and Elani on the other, my arms anchoring them as I pulled the lupines close to me. Elani, poor soul, was miserable over the loss of Peter, and I realized she was blaming herself but, of course, didn't pry deeply into her thoughts.
"It's not your fault," I said, kissing the top of her head, feeling the rub of wet, matted fur scrape against my chin. "We'll find him," I added emphatically, generating a positive emotion within myself that my words were not just an empty promise.
The little pole car rumbled dependably along the tracks and passed the Allatoona station. Another man, a fellow named Smith, joined the crew, and we wedged together tighter than ever. The rain started again, a fine mist, but just enough to make us more uncomfortable. I was glad to be ride of my drenched hat, the sodden brim of which kept dipping over my eyes. Having taken it off some miles back, I tucked it into my waistband, thinking I might need it later. We topped a hill, and the Etowah station was visible at the bottom of a steep grade. The men became excited because there was a working steam engine, the Yonah, at that station. From our vantage point, I could see smoke coming from its stack, meaning it had a boiler full of steam, as it sat, almost as if it anticipated our arrival.
The men pushing the car lifted their legs, and the others, our speed building with momentum, dropped their poles, which would not be needed for propulsion. We started down the grade, faster and faster. Kipp stood, bracing himself, his face in the wind. The temptation was too great for him to not enjoy this free fall, just as if he were hanging his head out of my car window.
"Wheeeee!" he said, hoping beyond hope that we'd go faster.
At that moment, the men up front spied a break in the rail line, and their alarmed thoughts banged inside my head as if they'd hit me with a mallet. But it was too late to stop or do anything other than prepare. The next thing I knew, all of us, eight men, one humanoid symbiont and two lupines–waterlogged and sodden through and through—were airborne, our bodies twisting in the air as we were flung from the relative safety of the pole car into a muddy ditch. Kipp and Elani fared best since their instincts helped them to adapt midair, twisting adroitly to land on their feet. I landed on the far side of the ditch and came to a rolling stop, my face down in a wad of wet grass. Kipp immediately bounded over to me, followed by Elani.
"Petra, are you okay?" he asked, worried, as he hovered over my prone body.
That was one of those times when I really wondered if I was entirely too old to be traveling. My body felt as if someone had run over it with a Mack truck and everything hurt simultaneously. But, after a quick inventory, I realized I was unharmed. Murphy, who also took a similarly bad roll, clambered to his feet and came over to reach down and assist me to stand, his hand on my elbow.
"Miss Sam, are you unharmed?" he asked, his face creased with concern.
I nodded my head, unable to speak. The hit had knocked me breathless, and it would take me a few minutes to recover. As I tried to take a few deep breaths, the men pulled the little pole car up and placed it on the other sides of the broken tracks; we continued our glide down the hill, across the bridge, and coasted to a gentle stop in the Etowah station. The pursuit would now take on a different flavor since our party had the option of a steam engine, the Yonah, and would no longer be bound by the slow and dangerous pole car.
"We'll be able to catch him now," Kipp said confidently.
Yes, unless the arc of history had changed, the party with whom I travelled eventually would catch the General. But our journey would prove to be long and complicated.
Chapter 18
The Yonah was an older engine than the General but of the same 4-4-0 gauge. She had been removed from service from the Western and Atlantic Railroad previously and put into use transporting coal and iron for a privately owned mining company. She lacked the beauty and flash of the General but was, nonetheless, an iron horse, and she could run.
As the pole car rolled into the Etowah station, the Yonah was resting on the turntable. The men jumped off the pole car, and I followed. I knew I'd have to be insistent or Fuller would leave me behind at the first convenient moment. Kipp could execute another persuasive mind invasion as he'd done previously on the resolute conductor, if needed. The initial suggestion was made before he found out I was a female, and his doubts as to the appropriateness of my being present had grown since that jaw dropping revelation.
I looked down at Kipp. He stared back and began to wag his tail. I think it was his eternal optimism that fueled his energy; there was no doubt in his mind that we would find Peter. The ride on the pole car had helped dry his fur although mud and dirt was clinging to his undercarriage. Poor Elani was forlorn looking, her ears drooping with misery. It was then Kipp took things in hand with inspirational energy.
"Listen, Elani. You have to change your attitude. Things happen in this business. In case you didn't get the memo, this is a dangerous line of work. You need to man up, get your game face on, and help focus on Peter. We will find him, and we won't stop until we do."
I'm not sure where Kipp was acquiring his impressive store of slang expressions and fashionable phrases, but I considered that we might want to have less television on at the house. I recalled his uttering things such as "Talk to the paw", "I've got your back", and more recently, "Do you feel me?". Yes, time to read more and watch less television.
"Kipp, be prepared to plant another suggestion if the men decide to leave us behind," I said, cutting into his kick butt speech to Elani. "And you might want to read about a man named George Patton," I added.
"Sure, boss," he replied. "And who is George Patton?" Kipp asked, looking up at me.
"A very tough man, a general in World War 2," I replied. "He gave a lot of motivational speeches, some of which his troops regretted receiving. I met him once," I added, off-handedly.
Meanwhile, the men were maneuvering the Yonah onto the turntable, connecting the tender as well as a flat car. Murphy realized they needed to take repair items due to the nagging notion that the fugitives on the General would probably continue to damage the tracks up ahead of us. Some of our party left us at that point, and only Fuller, Murphy and Cain boarded the new train. There were some scattered Confederate soldiers loitering near the siding, who appeared to have nothing pressing, and they jumped aboard too, gathering on the open flat car that was hitched to the tender.
I ran towards the Yonah and put my hand on the railing to climb aboard, planning to sit on the front of the tender. Fuller stared at me, the notions of Kipp's implanted ideas having faded in the excitement of the chase. But oddly, Kipp had no need to intervene. Murphy stepped to the edge of the engine and held his hand out to me.
"You've earned the right to be here," he said.
Monitoring his thoughts, I knew he admired my courage and tenacity; for a man of his times, he appreciated strong women. Murphy's thoughts drifted to his mother, who'd raised a large family in the midst of poverty and survived the move to a new country and an uncertain destiny. Kipp and Elani, after getting a little running start, hopped on board just as the engine began to roll forward. We picked up speed quickly and soon were going at what I later figured to be close to sixty miles an hour, the countryside passing in a faded blur of color. Sometimes we would see cleared pastures with cattle grazing on green hillsides and small homesteads plopped down in the midst of nowhere; north Georgia was made up of s
uch versus the larger estates and plantations that might be found farther south. The encroaching forests were thick and at times looming, despite the fact they'd been trimmed back to accommodate the rail line.
Fuller climbed to the front of the train, clinging to the side rails, so that he could signal of obstructions where the raiders threw ties onto the tracks or even pulled up rails. Cain, who was fatigued from the stress of the day, sat at the front of the tender with me, his face pale and crumpled. He was only in his thirties but looked older, his frame thin, his face deeply lined. At one point, he managed a tremulous smile. Kipp was lying close to his feet, and the man reached down to gently pat Kipp's head.
"I had a big dog when I was a little boy," Cain said. "Once, a black bear came after me in the woods, and Big Mike took off after that old bear and chased him up a tree." He smiled at the memory. "We'll get to the General and find your brother, Miss Sam," he added softly, before ducking his eyes.
I moved forward into the cab of the Yonah and stood next to Murphy who was controlling the throttle of the engine. Kipp followed, leaving Elani to stay with Cain, who was gently finger combing her wet fur.
"So, Mr. Murphy, how did you get involved in the train business?" I asked. Symbionts are naturally curious, and I was no exception. Kipp managed to rear up, putting his front paws in the cab window so he could crane his neck and stick his head out into the wind. We managed to stay out of the way of one of the soldiers who was acting as fireman stoking the firebox, which, I might add, was very hard work. The man's face was beaded with sweat caused by the blistering heat from the firebox as well as the exertion of stoking. He was a hardworking young man but not very clean; in the confines of the cab, his body odor was oppressive. Kipp looked at me and blinked his eyes.
"Don't say it, Kipp," I warned him from the obvious.
"My father moved our family here from Ireland when I was a young lad," Murphy said, smiling. "He was in search of a better life, not willing to scrabble in the hard dirt for little to nothing." Murphy's handsome face was wistful. "I remember the look on his face when we were hungry despite the fact he'd worked an eighteen hour day." Murphy looked at me and shrugged his shoulders. "I went on to become a machinist's apprentice and managed to work my way up to become an engineer." He leaned forward a little. "And I'll tell you honestly, Miss Sam, that despite the fact I may have been promoted past that job, I always liked doing this best," he said, nodding at the throttle. We rode along for another minute or so before he turned to me again.
The Great Locomotive Chase, 1862 Page 18