The Great Locomotive Chase, 1862

by T. L. B. Wood

  "Do you mind telling me, Miss Sam, why you are dressed like a gentleman and not like a lady?" He tried not to smile but failed. "I'm not trying to be impertinent or nothing like that."

  Symbionts lie with a practiced ease that is a necessary skill set for survival. When we do so, we have no attack of conscious, thinking that we're wrong to be deceptive. Well, I still felt nagging guilt over having to lie to Harrow, but in the end I told him as much as I could and not sound utterly unbelievable to his loving ears. Yes, I wore the pearls he'd given me beneath my masculine shirt with its stiff collar. Deception is just part of what we must do to blend effortlessly in the human society. Kipp turned to stare at me, curious as to what I would hatch. Even Elani's bedraggled head went up.

  "My brother and I hail from North Carolina," I began. "We lost our family home due to bad debt," I added, trying to look sad. It never hurt to try and get some compassion and pity going. "We managed to scrape up some money and came south with the plan of buying some land in Georgia, hoping to try our hand at cattle."

  "Do you know anything about cattle?" Murphy asked, tilting his head to the side.

  "Yes, our father raised cattle, and we grew up helping him," I lied.

  "But why Georgia?"

  "Land prices here are much cheaper than in North Carolina. Ever since the last governor was elected, the price of land has escalated dramatically," I said, making the story bigger as I talked. "Some people think it has to do with graft in his cabinet, but I don't know about that."

  "So why are you dressed as a gent?" Murphy persisted.

  "Mr. Murphy, have you ever had to ride for long distances on a train while wearing a hoop skirt?" I asked, opening my eyes wide and trying to look my most honest. "And, in any case, we thought it would be easier to do business if we were two brothers and not a brother and a sister." I didn't explain the last comment, and he didn't ask. In fact, he seemed happy with the hoop skirt remark.

  "Yeah, his wife has complained about the skirt thing, too," Kipp said, from his vantage point across the cab. "He's had to hear her whine about the difficulties of getting on and off a train while you have something that is shaped like the Liberty Bell hanging off your butt. And then there is the finding a seat that will accommodate the sheer yardage."

  Liberty Bell? I really wondered where Kipp was getting his ideas.

  "I read and watch television... that's where," Kipp answered sharply, in response to my thinly veiled criticism. "You might try and do the same. You know you can broaden your horizons with just a little effort," he added, sniffing dismissively.

  Murphy focused less on me and more on the cues from Fuller, who motioned a couple of times that we needed to stop and remove more ties from the tracks. The errant soldiers who'd hopped on board came in handy and jumped from the rear trailing flat car to help dislodge the heavy ties and load them onto the flat car. After all, the ties were W&ARR property, and Murphy was not going to let them sit forlornly off to the side of the tracks in a patch of overgrown weeds. We passed by two more stations, Rogers and Cass, pausing long enough to get information about the raiders and the General. It was necessary to top off our water supply and add additional wood to the tender, since the men had no way of knowing how long the Yonah would be in hot pursuit. I did know–in vague generalities—but didn't have the precise information of Peter, who had studied the event extensively.

  "See, I tell you that you need to read more, and you just blow me off," Kipp said, yawning.

  "Well, what do you know, Mr. Wizard?" I asked, tired of his running commentary on my too numerous to count shortcomings.

  "Well, Miss Smarty Pants, I know that we are about to arrive in Kingston and will change engines and leave on the William R. Smith," he replied.

  That was more than I knew, which was almost nothing. In retrospect, I realized that I should have prepared more extensively for this trip. There were many books about the Great Locomotive Chase, but I'd contented myself with allowing Peter to do the research while I'd watched the Disney movie starring handsome Fess Parker and the equally gorgeous Jeffrey Hunter.

  Thankfully, there was another break in the rain, and as we breezed along at the high rate of speed that rather surprised me for the times, my clothes, which were flapping in the wind, dried, as did my hair. I rejoined Jeff Cain on the tender and braided my hair, which had come loose in frizzy, wet strands giving me the appearance of a dandelion puff ball. Kipp stayed up in the engine cab with Murphy, his big head still stuck out the window. I was glad to see the talk Kipp had given to Elani seemed to help, and she seemed brighter and projected an optimism that had been lacking. Cain's finger combing of her, along with the wind had dried her coat and she looked halfway normal again. The tender was swaying from side to side on the tracks, and the clacking of the wheels could have nudged me to sleep if the situation had been different. We were in a heavily wooded part of the state and saw fewer cleared fields from our perspective on the Yonah. As we drew close to Kingston, Fuller returned to the cab from his precarious perch on the front of the engine. He was frowning and appeared agitated, as he removed his hat and ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

  "The line is jammed," he said, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the sounds of the locomotive.

  I stayed aboard the Yonah with the lupines while the men hopped down and began telling their story to all who gathered. At some point, Murphy ran in one direction, towards the locomotive New York, while Fuller darted towards the William R. Smith. I followed both men's thoughts and realized they had failed to communicate in the most basic way, and both of them were planning on proceeding with different locomotives.

  "Well, you read about this stuff," I said. "Which train do we take?"

  "Just too lazy to prepare," Kipp said, shaking his head. "We need to be on the William R. Smith, as I think I mentioned." The Kindle had obviously come in handy, and I had no good reply to his scathing assessment of my lack of knowledge.

  The lupines followed me as we left the Yonah and made our way across the siding to the William R. Smith. Fuller was in discussion with the engineer, Wiley Harbin. Cain and Fuller were explaining, in clipped, hurried tones what had happened, and without hesitation, Harbin disconnected the passenger coach, leaving the locomotive with only a tender and a baggage car. I trotted over to the engine and definitely made a sorry–and unexpectedly shocking—sight to the new player, Harbin. He was a youthful man, perhaps in his mid thirties, with a face sunburned from days of toil outside. Harbin stared at me, too startled to not gaze in a rude manner; my clothes were mud splattered, and my coat, so lovingly tailored by Suzanne, had a long tear on the right side and my tie was askew. Looking down, I noted with dismay that the pretty antique stickpin was gone. I'd probably left it in the ditch when we went airborne during the pole car adventure. Suzanne would hold me accountable for that loss, I thought, a grimace on my face.

  "She's with us," Fuller growled. But he obviously was confused as to why he continued to allow me to tag along like a happy puppy. All I could be was thankful that Kipp's planted mental suggestion seemed to have the half-life of uranium and was still potent.

  I took my place on the tender, along with Kipp and Elani, and felt a slight jerk as the William R. Smith began to move forward. Craning my neck, I looked for Murphy and saw him racing after us along the siding; at the last minute he jumped, grabbed the railing and pulled himself into the cab.

  "You sorry son of a..." Murphy's words drifted off as he turned to see me. "Uh, you could have waited, Fuller."

  The Irishman was furious but managed admirably to control his temper, and after a few minutes, the high color along his cheekbones began to return to a normal hue. I knew what he didn't and that was Fuller harbored no intention to deliberately leave him, Murphy, behind. It was just that Fuller was so single minded of purpose, he would have run over his own mother had she been tied to the railroad tracks by a dastardly Snidely Whiplash. Kipp enjoyed the cartoon reference and plumbed my tired brain fo
r all images of Snidely, Dudley Doright and the like.

  To make our journey northward more festive, we'd been joined at Kingston by a number of inebriated militia men who were drilling nearby. Or, at least, the working rumor was that they were practicing, but in their current state, one wondered to what end? When they heard of our pursuit of alleged traitors, spies or outright Northern soldiers, they crowded, whooping and hollering, into the baggage car. Kipp, after canvassing their thoughts, looked at me and frowned as only a lupine can.

  "They are drunk," he said. "And they are carrying weapons," Kipp added, for good measure. "That can't be a good combination."

  I heard a shout and then something that must have been an intoxicated rebel yell fueled by home brew. All I know is, the sound was loud enough and of a high enough pitch that it made both the lupines cringe. Oh, yes, the addition of the militia men was an excellent choice, I thought cynically.

  The William R. Smith was not as fast a train as the General, and in retrospect, the New York would have proven a more sound choice, but it was too late to change iron horses. We continued onward—six railroad men, including Harbin's fireman and brakeman, a humanoid symbiont who was female dressed as a male, two muddy and matted lupines and a train full of drunk and armed militia men. It seemed to be a pretty average day on the WA&RR.

  Fuller, taking up point again, carefully climbed along the running board of the moving engine so that he could warn of obstructions. Unfortunately, the locomotive rounded a curve at a high rate of speed and plowed into a huge pile of cross ties before the train could stop. The cowcatcher did its job and tossed the heavy ties into the air like matchsticks. Fuller took a moment to thank his lucky stars for an uncomfortably near miss by one of the heavy ties. At that point, the rain started again in earnest, and as I sat on the tender and watched the rain drip from the brim of my sodden hat, I almost became cross eyed as I tried to focus on the too near globules of water. Kipp looked up at me and smiled, his jaw dropping down.

  "This is great!" he exclaimed. "Everything a time shift should be."

  "Is that true?" Elani asked, looking to me for corroboration.

  I had the sense she was a little disappointed. The wonderful allure of the past and the romantic nature of the traveler was part of what drew our kind to the job. But here we sat, wet, anxious, hungry and unsettled. Elani's eyes met mine.

  "If you recall, I once said sometimes you land hard." I smiled at her. "These trips can be just plain old hard work, sweetheart."

  She wagged her tail at the endearment and turned her massive head to gaze out into the thick woods. Off to the right, a herd of white tailed deer flashed the warning sign of their flag-like tails and began to zig zag off into the forest. Both Elani and Kipp were superb hunters and could shift on their own when needed and food supplies were low. I felt their primal surge of natural instincts as they watched the deer in retreat.

  Fuller shouted out another warning, his words finding their way back to us despite the rain and wind from the movement of the engine. Harbin pulled back on the throttle and the engine slid gracefully to a halt. The raiders had destroyed a large section of rail, and there would be no way to repair it. The bunch of drunken militia men, feeling the momentum of the train had slowed, piled out of the baggage car, cheering and cursing simultaneously. Their agitation grew as they realized they would not be players in the final pursuit and would be left out in the middle of nowhere with nothing to do.

  Since the William R. Smith was of no further use, Fuller and Murphy decided they would begin to run again, and this decision propelled me into action. Leaping from the tender, followed by Kipp and Elani, I chased after them, easily catching up within the first minute. Jeff Cain, although resolute of heart, didn't possess the needed physical vigor and was left behind. Murphy smiled, amused by my dogged persistence. Fuller frowned; his common sense told him to be rid of me, but he still struggled against the thoughts Kipp had wedged in his brain. The rain intensified again, making the trip even more difficult with soaked woolen clothes that were made heavier and unpleasantly cumbersome by the water.

  "Fuller knows that we will run into the Texas, which is travelling south on this line," Kipp said. "And he's banking on that fact, knowing the Texas is fully a match for the General in terms of speed and function. The two engines were manufactured in the same factory, have the same specs and are pretty much identical, except for their outward appearances."

  "Thank you, Mr. Professor," I said sarcastically.

  "Don't take it out on me that you failed to do your homework," Kipp replied airily, as he yawned, showing every tooth in his head. "Elani knows more about this period than do you."

  His harshness stung but was accurate. I'd let my broken heartedness over Harrow and my new found attachment to Fitzhugh cloud my judgment. Kipp, following the tenor of my thoughts, was immediately contrite.

  "I'm sorry, Petra. That was unkind of me." He tried to nuzzle my hand as we ran along.

  "It's okay, Kipp. You are right in everything you said," I said. After all, I was supposed to be a mature leader, and it was time I acted like it.

  In a surprisingly short time, we heard the approach of the Texas as the loud chuffing sound of the steam engine reverberated in the air. Oddly, I could feel the vibrations it cast through its sheer weight in the ground beneath my feet. Fuller and Murphy began to swing their arms in attempt to slow and stop the Texas. Of course, all the W&ARR men knew one another, and the engineer of the Texas recognized both Fuller and Murphy from a distance. The engineer slowly reversed the engine and eased the locomotive to a halt.

  "Pete, we need your help!" Fuller cried out.

  We were, at that time, about two miles from the next station which was in Adairsville. With his knowledge of Fuller and Murphy, Peter Bracken, the engineer of the Texas, didn't question the credibility of their story. He looked at me, and a momentary expression of confusion crossed his pleasant features.

  "Miss Samantha Keaton," Murphy said, again acting as if he were introducing me at a fancy cotillion. Fuller glanced my way, his eyes narrowed, and once again searched his brain for a good reason why he had not objected to my presence.

  "Her brother was kidnapped by the scoundrels who stole the General. We fear for his safety and are assisting her in his recovery," Murphy concluded. The two and a half mile run had brought out the deep, rich color in his flesh, and his face was a nice, glowing shade of pink. We were fortunate that despite the ongoing rain, the temperatures were tolerable, and we were neither hot nor freezing. But we were miserable.

  Bracken showed the same discipline of the other railroad men I'd met, in that he was neatly dressed with carefully groomed facial hair and a precise nature. Kipp knew, from his studies, that both Murphy and Bracken hailed from the North. If I'd had the time and focus to plumb their minds, it would have been interesting to see how they viewed being transplanted Northerners in what was seen as an increasingly combative South as war threatened just outside of Chattanooga.

  Without delay, we climbed on board and Bracken reversed the locomotive, which had the capability to run in reverse at close to its maximum rate of speed, only stopping when we got to Adairsville. Murphy remained in the cab while Fuller climbed to the rear of the tender where he could shout out warnings in case the track had been sabotaged. Bracken skillfully dropped the long line of freight cars to a vacant siding, while managing to never completely stop the momentum of the engine during the process, and the Texas continued northward, following the trail of the General. Murphy stayed in the cab with Bracken, while Kipp, Elani and I perched on the tender, trying to keep out from under foot. Elani looked up at me, her eyes huge in the pretty blonde-gray mask of her face. I will admit, flying backwards at close to 60 miles an hour at times while riding on the tender of the Texas, was one of the more alarming things I've done. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. Kipp kept his head poked up, the wind flattening his ears.

  "At least, since we are moving in reverse, the smoke and cind
ers aren't hitting us in the face any more," Kipp remarked with a sigh, offering his optimistic assessment.

  Chapter 19

  At the Calhoun station, we slowed up enough to pick up a couple of more helpers. An engineer for a rival company happened to be passing through and jumped on our train to take over for the fireman. In addition, another locomotive, the Catoosa, was pressed into service by the coercion of one Captain W.J. Whitsitt, who convinced the reluctant engineer at gunpoint that the Catoosa needed to join the pursuit. Kipp looked up at me, questioning the entire transaction, but I just shook my head. Passions ran high, I suppose. This time, there was a contingent of thankfully sober infantry who boarded the Catoosa and followed us to assist. We'd only traveled a couple of miles when Fuller's exclamation traveled back to us. He's spied the General, which was stopped ahead, while its crew struggled to sabotage the rails. I never got a chance to speak with any of the Union soldiers who abducted the General, but I have to think their amazement at seeing the Texas appear in full speed reverse was profound. It must have thrown them off their game, because they quickly took off again, leaving a box car stranded on the tracks. We drew to a span of tracks where the spikes had been removed, but as Fuller carefully walked ahead of the engine, Bracken eased the Texas over the unsecured area. I'll admit, I held my breath, thinking of what would happen if the Texas tumbled off, since we were on a rather steeply banked grade. History told me that we would make the span safely, but I reminded myself that history could have been changed in unexpected ways simply with the addition of four misplaced symbionts.