The Derring-Do Club and the Empire of the Dead

by David Wake

  This coach had luggage like the rear baggage coach, trunks, cases and even a set of golf clubs, but it also seemed to be full of chickens in cages and there was even a pig snorting around in a pen.

  “This is hopeless,” Georgina said.

  Earnestine thought so too, but it was her responsibility to put a brave face on it all, so she told Georgina off and jostled her forward. They reached the next gap and stopped. It was a dead end.

  “Now what!?” Georgina shouted above the clatter.

  In front of them was a black steel wall, the back of the tender, so there was nothing ahead, except tons of coal and then the engine. Glancing around: a ladder up to the tender, sky, the landscape rushing past at fifty miles an hour on either side, the rails whizzing past alarmingly below the coupling, and behind her seven coaches. Somewhere inside the carriages were three soldiers working forward towards them. She leant against another metal ladder on this coach and realised that there was nothing else for it.

  “We jump,” she said.

  “Jump!?!”

  “We must get off the train.”

  “You’re gulling me!” Georgina shrieked. “We’re travelling at a simply astonishing speed. We’ll be smashed to pieces by the air rushing past the train, never mind what would happen to us when we hit the ground. Have you any idea how much faster this is compared to a horse and carriage?”

  “We must try.”

  “Can we slow the train down first?”

  “I doubt pulling the cord would do much,” said Earnestine. She was becoming rather fed up with Georgina’s constant complaining.

  “We could surrender?”

  “Oh for heaven’s sake,” Earnestine chided. “They killed that Princess because they thought she was a stowaway. What do you think they’ll do to young ladies who are spies – offer us tea and muffins? And besides, we’re British.”

  “They can’t be far behind.”

  “We climb up here and go along the roof.”

  Georgina’s expression made it clear what she thought of that idea.

  “Don’t be a baby,” Earnestine said. She gripped the rung at her head and pulled herself up. The wedge–shaped gap between the toes and heel of her boots fitted neatly almost locking her feet into position, so it was easy to ascend.

  Above the edge of the roof, the setting sun was in her eyes, but she could still see well enough. The carriages gently curved to her right as the train navigated a gentle bend, and–

  The blast of air threw her against the lip of the coach. Steam and sparks cascading on either side of her. She nearly fell.

  “Come on!” she yelled to Georgina, and she hauled herself through the fiery gale and onto the top of the coach.

  She began to crawl along but the wind caught the hem of her skirts, lifted them and inflated them like a balloon. She took off into the air, her fingers desperately scrabbled for purchase and she just managed to clasp the strengthening metal strut that spanned the length of the coach. She rose, upside down, and then the wind struck her from the side, squashed the balloon of her dress and dashed her against the roof.

  “Gina, be careful!” she shouted, but the same wind that had blown her head–over–heels caught her words and swooshed them down the length of the train.

  Georgina rose above the edge of the roof: her face white with fear and her brown hair swirling around her like waves churned by a white froth of smoke and fire from the engine. She crawled up.

  “Gina! Your dress!”

  Georgina risked a glance at Earnestine.

  “Gina!”

  “I – – –don?”

  Just then, Georgina’s dress blew up into a huge bell shape too. She took off, flying right away from the roof. Earnestine knelt up and caught hold, wrenching her arms in their sockets as she herself was pulled up and over, and then, inevitably, the wind caught her own skirts and up she went again. Georgina somersaulted and then the force of the air flattened her skirts: she turned from a balloon into a stone instantly, and a moment later Earnestine also lost her aerial abilities.

  They landed in an undignified heap. Anyone in the cabin below would have heard the impact.

  Earnestine pushed her head right up against Georgina’s: “Be careful.”

  Georgina reply was punctuated by her jerking breaths and the rushing gale seemed to snatch most of it away: “I was –ing care–, so – – and – – up!”

  “Don’t swear.”

  “–”

  “I’ll get soap.”

  Earnestine slithered backwards until her foot reached the edge. She glanced behind her: the gap between the coaches was only about three feet.

  “We’ll have to jump across.”

  Georgina mouthed words at her, shouting: it could have been “pardon” or “excuse me” or indeed anything at all.

  Earnestine pushed herself onto all fours and then got her feet under her: she stood upright, her arms out for balance.

  “–u’re –plete– mad!” Georgina yelled, unhelpfully.

  Earnestine turned until she was standing with her feet apart facing the rear of the speeding train. She had a run up of three good paces. Now she was much closer, she could see that the train roof wasn’t smooth and the coach she was aiming for pitched alarmingly. The gap looked wider than three foot.

  She took a half step back and then went for it: one, two, three, flying.

  The wind caught her skirts, so she sailed – literally – through the air, which made it an extraordinarily long jump. She cleared the gap by three or four yards and then skittered along trying to keep her feet under her. Finally she fell and slid to a halt.

  Looking back, she saw Georgina shaking her head very, very slowly.

  Oh for heaven’s sake, Earnestine thought, and motioned angrily: come on, come on.

  Georgina gripped the hem of her skirt with her right hand, which was actually a good thought, and then jumped. The wind caught the free material of her outfit spinning her as she travelled. She landed on her feet, seemed to skate along and then fell into Earnestine’s waiting arms.

  The second carriage gap was the same, but with a greater degree of jitteriness. Somehow, the further from the engine, the more the chain of stepping stones jiggered and shifted.

  Earnestine jumped, fell again and realised that she wasn’t really jumping at all. It was the wind catching her and the train moved forward beneath her as she flew.

  She got to her feet and walked along the centre.

  On the third jump, she enjoyed it.

  “I didn’t fall over!” she said aloud.

  Georgina hit her in the back of her legs bowling her over. She bounced and rolled along the top of the roof. Georgina’s hand grabbed hers and they see–sawed, Earnestine coming up and Georgina falling, until Earnestine’s other hand grabbed the strut and her feet scrabbled to find some purchase.

  Georgina went over the edge!

  Earnestine just about held onto her sister above a dizzying drop as trees and telegraph poles zipped past.

  “Open your legs!” Earnestine shouted.

  “Wh–!”

  “Legs!”

  Georgina splayed out beneath her waist and her skirts caught the buffeting wind like a billowing sail, it was enough lift to swing her up onto the train roof.

  “We’re on the restaurant car,” Earnestine said.

  Georgina was still jerking breaths into her lungs and her eyes were wide and unfocused.

  “We’re on the restaur–”

  “I heard you! We– Oh, oh, oh, please.”

  “Go in?”

  “Yes, oh yes, yes, yes.”

  They crawled along and gingerly descended on the ladder to the footplates between coaches to stand holding each other shivering but relieved.

  “The soldiers?”

  Earnestine pointed forward into the restaurant coach and towards the forward coaches, where the soldiers were no doubt searching.

  “When the wind blew, I showed some ankle,” Georgina sniffed loudly, tr
ying to get a grip on the situation.

  “I think I showed some thigh,” said Earnestine, and they were both laughing.

  It was dangerous, not as dangerous as walking on top of a train travelling at an inconceivable speed of fifty miles an hour, but nonetheless two young ladies holding on to each other, while standing on an unstable metal platform laughing uncontrollably, wasn’t safe. And there were three soldiers on board searching for them.

  Earnestine pulled herself out of her sister’s embrace and checked the window into the restaurant car. Travellers were sitting at tables eating their meals, waiters were serving and… she thought she could detect the wake of a disturbance. Without being able to put her finger on why, she was sure the soldiers had moved forward. They’d had plenty of time during the excursion on top of the train.

  The note of the engine changed, less chugging and more whirring.

  “We just need to delay until we’re in France, then they’ve no jurisdiction.”

  Georgina nodded her understanding.

  “Perhaps having searched the train they’ll give up?” Earnestine said, thinking aloud. Graf Zala knew she was on the train and he didn’t strike her as a man who would give up. No doubt he’d instilled that same zeal into his men.

  What was that whirring noise?

  Earnestine climbed the ladder. She hooked her arm around the top rung before sticking her head above the roof. Despite being buffeted about and deafened by the roar of the wind, she could hear a distinct mechanical noise. She’d heard it before.

  A light blinked at the front of the train. It was dusk now, so it was clear in the failing light: on/off… dot/dash/dash… Morse code: that was a ‘D’ and an ‘E’, ‘U’ – a jolt of the train caused her to lose focus for a moment – ‘T’… Who were they signalling to? No–one lived in the sky.

  Above!

  The dark sky was blotted with a massive lozenge shape. Why hadn’t she looked up?

  “Zeppelin,” she shouted down.

  “We could signal and tell them to go away,” Georgina shouted back.

  “Georgina!”

  “You’ve got your flashlight and you know Morse.”

  “Yes, but I don’t know German.”

  “Oh.”

  “Do try and think, Gina.”

  The Zeppelin flared into activity as searchlights came on, cast about and then fixed on the train. One scanned along and Earnestine was dazzled. She had to feel her way down. Georgina appeared smudged by an orange blur.

  “They saw me,” Earnestine said, blinking.

  “You’d be too far away.”

  “They’ll have binoculars.”

  “Oh my.”

  Above the noise of steam, airship and wind, there was a loud bang.

  “What was that?” Georgina asked.

  The percussion from the carriage’s wheels changed in pitch and tempo, and the weak light shifted. The train rushed past a section of trees suddenly billowing smoke, thick and yellow, which they had plenty of time to examine because–

  Earnestine realised: “We’re slowing down!”

  “Oh my.”

  “Gina, we have to get to the engine.”

  “I guess we’re still in Germany.”

  “Yes.”

  “What about the soldiers?”

  “We’ll have to gamble that they are coming back this way.”

  “But that’ll mean we’ll meet them… no, no… we’ll never make it over the roof going into the wind.”

  “Gina, don’t be a baby, the train is slowing down so it’ll be much easier.”

  “But we’ve only just–”

  Earnestine hoisted her sister up the ladder and pushed, following her as quickly as she could. The Zeppelin manoeuvred to straddle the railway line ahead, and then the giant airship tacked with its engines against the wind, losing altitude, to fly directly above the train.

  Even with the train slowing, the predominant air flow, highlighted with tiny sparks from the boiler, blew straight into their faces.

  Leading, Georgina lurched up onto her feet and, with a very strange gait, made her way forward. Earnestine pulled herself up too. Ahead there was another explosion. Earnestine shielded her eyes from the glare of the searchlights and could make out the gondola beneath the huge frame of the Zeppelin. She could almost see figures silhouetted in the windows. One of them appeared in a door frame and held something like a model of an airship.

  He dropped it.

  The object seemed to hesitate in the air staying horizontal, and then its fins came up, or rather the bulbous head dropped. It zinged, striking the head of the train somewhere between the dining carriage and the engine, and disappeared inside. Georgina threw herself flat giving Earnestine an uninterrupted view. When the expected explosion came, it was a damp squib: loud and full of smoke. The crump was followed by a hissing as it threw up a billow of yellow smoke spreading out of the windows ahead as if the front carriage was exhaling after a long draw on a good cigar.

  “It’s all right. It hit the train and didn’t damage anything,” Georgina yelled, the rushing air buffeting her words. “It’s just smoke.”

  Earnestine could see that: “Gina, don’t be so foolish! Why would they mark the train with smoke?”

  “It smells like… beef sandwiches.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “That yellow paste.”

  Earnestine could smell it too: “Mustard.”

  Georgina giggled.

  The train stopped, flinging Earnestine forward, and as she fell, the Zeppelin zoomed overhead. The airship’s propellers churned the smoke from the steam engine’s chimney. Winking lights appeared in the gondola and the train was raked with bullets. The top of the roof pinged and beams of light appeared shining up from the bullet holes in the roof.

  Earnestine screamed: “Go!”

  They shuffled along the roof going forward towards the nearest end as another volley went wide. The Zeppelin was closing again, dominating the view. Ropes fell from the gondola and figures readied themselves to abseil down. As Earnestine went down over the edge of the roof, a few bullets ricocheted around metalwork. They’d switched to snipers.

  Down on the metal platform at the other end of the restaurant coach, they were completely hidden by the yellow smoke billowing on either side and above.

  “It’s… strange,” said Georgina, coughing.

  “It’s just smoke.”

  A man appeared from the sleeping coach in front, his eyes streaming, and he barged into them before jumping from the stationary train.

  “Wait!” but Earnestine was too late and a couple of sniper shots cut him down.

  “Come on!” she said.

  In the corridor inside, there was another man who had fallen to the floor. He reached up to them, his face blistering as they watched; he screamed in French, writhing as he did so.

  “We don’t breathe the smoke,” Earnestine said.

  “We must help him,” Georgina pleaded.

  “In here!”

  Earnestine pulled her sister into the nearby cabin.

  Through the windows, the searchlights shifted as the Zeppelin came overhead.

  “He’s dying,” Georgina said.

  “If we can get the train moving, it’ll clear the smoke and they won’t be able to board us. We must get the train moving…”

  Earnestine grabbed her sister by her arm and shook her, trying to rattle some sense into her, and also to make her own brain work. She grabbed some material off a bunk bed, a nightdress, and ripped it, flinging the pieces into the washing bowl to soak them. She flung the first piece over Georgina and then did the same for herself. The cold shock sharpened her senses.

  “Don’t breathe or let it touch you!”

  “Absolutely.”

  She went to the door: “Ready.”

  “You look like a ghost,” Georgina said.

  Earnestine looked at her sister: “You look like a bride in a veil.”

  “Deep breaths, then run
as fast as you can.”

  “One… two…”

  “Three.”

  Earnestine opened the door.

  Miss Georgina

  Georgina followed Earnestine and they ran headlong into the yellow smog, jumping over the fat, and now dead, Frenchman. They should have saved him, tried at least. The damp linen against her face was suffocating, Georgina wanted to rip it off: she was drowning, falling deeper than ever into the cold waters of the Styx, and then she breathed, taking the air, moist from the damp cotton fabric, into her lungs.

  The gap between the coaches was far easier to cross now that the train was stationary.

  The smoke was worse, streaming out from a wrecked cabin half way along, and utterly terrifying. Earnestine stumbled, and Georgina was horrified to realise that her sister had stepped on someone. It was a solder in an Austro–Hungarian uniform: they’d killed their own people. Those plans they thought Earnestine had stolen must be important.

  “What killed them? Plague?” Georgina asked.

  “Or something. What disease would act that quickly?” Earnestine answered and her linen mask went in and out with every breath highlighting her face like a shroud.

  “Influenza takes hours, doesn’t it?” Georgina was scared.

  “We must get to the engine.”

  “Do you know how to drive a train?”

  “The steam engine is a British invention, so we ought to be naturals.”

  “You can’t just browbeat a machine into working.”

  “I’m sure with a little application we can manage.”

  Georgina and Earnestine, keeping low, moved out into the corridor. Wisps of yellow smoke swirled as their passing disturbed it.

  “It smells of garlic or Dijon,” said Georgina.

  “Don’t smell it,” Earnestine replied.

  They moved on, holding the material to their faces. The porter still moved, twitching and Georgina leant down to check his pulse, but Earnestine put her hand on her sister’s shoulder and shook her head. The man looked mottled, his face breaking out in blisters. His eyes snapped open, wide and unseeing, and he opened his mouth.