Cold Snow: A Legal Thriller

by John Nicholas

  CHAPTER 19

  The Trans-Shield Express

  From the moment they saw the train, all they wanted to do was find a way in. They were all much the worse for wear, not to mention hungry and extremely exhausted. The four of them ascended the station steps, slowly, so that Hart and Sarah could help Anthony limp along beside them. Alex walked ahead with their remaining money clutched in his hand, and approached the ticket booth, trying not to look like a thirteen-year-old.

  "Hi," he said, dropping the bills on the counter. "Four one-way tickets, please."

  It was lucky that Hart had dug out his savings before they left, otherwise the tickets would have been beyond their reach. Alex looked at their remaining meager funds: a single twenty-dollar bill, and a pair of ones.

  The ticket attendant eyed them suspiciously. "Do you take me for an idiot?"

  "No," Alex said, drawing himself up in a confident manner. "I take you for an intelligent and attractive woman who is going to give me four one-way tickets."

  "We don't sell tickets to unaccompanied minors," the woman said. "Now go back home."

  Alex sighed deeply; he was in no shape to argue. He slammed the rest of their money in front of the small window. "Make something up," he said.

  Ordoñez and Levache, leaning against an opposite wall, each celebrated silently. Orson was playing into their hands--but they could only make an attempt when the train was isolated.

  Fifteen minutes later, Alex, Sarah, Anthony and Hart strolled into a cabin near the front of the train. It was small, but comfortable-looking: the walls were paneled in wood, the carpet was crimson, and six bunks were lined up along the walls under large windows. The room was lit by lamps on several tables by the bunks. Alex stretched, yawned, and dumped his backpack on a bunk, the others followed suit.

  "I'm going to look for the dining car," he said, and left the room, slamming the door behind him and making his way through the hallways, toward the back of the unmoving train.

  They went to eat at different times, Alex taking the longest and returning with Sarah. When they entered the cabin again, intending to sleep, they found Hart and Anthony lying in their own bunks and an unknown couple lying on the two left uninhabited. The woman looked surprised as they entered.

  "More of you? It's weird enough that they let one child onto the train. Are the standards relaxed now?"

  Alex did not particularly care what either of them had to say, but anybody calling him a child got to him easily. "Do you mind telling me who you are before you go around insulting me?"

  The woman was taken aback. "I'm not trying to insult you! What made you think that?"

  "I am not a child. I happen to look like one."

  The man and the woman exchanged odd glances and evidently decided to forget the whole exchange. "I'm Melissa Owen," she said brightly, "and this is my husband, Fred."

  The man inclined his head and returned to the book he was reading.

  "I'm Stephen Jerome," Alex said, and cut across Sarah before she could protest, "and this is my sister Anna."

  "What brings you to this train?" inquired Fred Owen.

  "It's a very long story," Alex replied, "but suffice it to say that it was Xavier here," he gestured toward Anthony, "that suggested we come here after we were...wandering...for maybe a month."

  Fred and Melissa looked very suspicious but saw from Alex's demeanor that they weren't going to get anything else from him.

  "Xavier!?" Sarah mouthed incredulously.

  "How about you?" Alex asked.

  "We're railroad enthusiasts," said Melissa. "Trying to hit all the major ones. We just got off the Trans-Siberian a few weeks ago. Did you know that the TSE uses the same cars and track it did seventy years ago?"

  "I didn't."

  "It means some of the systems are fairly old…and I'm surprised the links between the cars haven't given out. But did you also know that a mechanism on this train automatically locks all the doors a minute after a fire is alerted? For containment, see."

  "That's very interesting."

  "That's nothing! When the original train was built in 1919, they were on a rigidly strict deadline."

  "That's not good."

  "It definitely wasn't! They really rushed some of it...in fact, in an emergency, it's almost impossible to stop the train due to some of the cheap crap they loaded into the brakes and engine."

  Alex raised his eyebrows. With what they were going through it seemed impossible that anybody could enjoy traveling.

  Alex lay awake all that night, partly because Anthony's infamous snores had blended with Fred Owen's to create a masterful nighttime cacophony. When he finally did get to sleep, he slept quite late. He awoke in the midmorning around what he judged to be eight o'clock; everybody else was asleep.

  The train had started to move. The wild mountains, forests, lakes, and rivers were now moving past the window at a steady pace, and a light snow was beginning to fall.

  He got himself slowly out of bed, glad that he didn't have to change--he had become accustomed to sleeping in his clothes, as had all of them. He decided he would go to the bathroom and then go to the dining car for breakfast.

  In the hallway, he had to pause several times to steady himself against the shaking of the train, at one point almost bumping into two men moving quickly in the opposite direction. He turned to apologize, but they were already gone.

  While in the bathroom nearest to his cabin he realized that he had left in his pocket the lighter he had been using to start fires. He didn't mind; it was just a reminder of the fact that he'd once had to crawl along highways and live by campfires.

  Exiting the bathroom he was struck once again with an uninhibited happiness--it was over. They'd done it. Jake hadn't died in vain at all. A chime sounded overhead, and a voice began speaking on a PA system.

  "To all TSE passengers, this is your driver speaking. We've just passed over the Saskatchewan border, and will be traveling alongside the Saskatchewan River for some time until we reach Regina. After that we'll turn north and head for Yellowknife."

  Returning to the cabin, he stopped just outside the door, hearing some unfamiliar voices inside. He put his ear against it and listened.

  "He had to go to the bathroom right now…" a thick French accent was saying. "When the boy Alex comes back we will kill you all."

  Alex froze. After hearing these words he had no idea what to feel or believe. How had they been followed?

  "Look!" a voice was shouting which Alex recognized as Melissa Owen. "It doesn't matter what these drifters have done. We don't have anything to do with this. Let us go!"

  A pair of gunshots told Alex that the Owens would not be leaving anytime soon.

  Another voice spoke, an American accent with a slight Hispanic tinge. Alex felt the color rise to his face as his being filled with the deepest hatred.

  "We'd kill you three now as well…but I want Alex to see. I want your glorious leader to see how stupidly he's failed!"

  "You bastard," Sarah said.

  Her voice seemed to bring Alex back to his senses. He took stock of the situation and looked around to see if there was anything he could do to right this horrible turn of events. He began quickly looking around, still half-listening to Sarah. "I'll bet Alex knows you're here. He's not just going to walk in here and let you shoot him."

  "With all due respect, dear girl," said the Frenchman again, "Alexander has no choice in the matter. He will return and then you will all die."

  "Quite right, Levache," Ordoñez agreed heartily.

  Alex was frantically searching up and down the hallway, looking desperately for anything that could help them escape.

  Anthony spoke now. "I don't like Alex…" he said, "but you're disgusting."

  Ordoñez answered him without listening to what Anthony was saying. "Even if you do manage to get out…four of the people on this train are Moose Killers. Any one of those four could be trained to shoot you on sight. Got it?"

  The sounds from i
nside told him Anthony had no retort. Hart seemed to be remaining silent--it fit with what Alex knew of him.

  "I grow tired of waiting," sighed Levache. "The girl annoys me…she can go first."

  Alex did not have time to think. His heart was pounding and he was sweating profusely. On instinct, he ran for the opposite wall. Blindly he groped for something he knew was there, and at last found it: the red lever of the fire alarm.

  Instantly, fountains of water sprang from sprinklers in the ceiling. A wailing siren began issuing from every corner of the train. Alex had done it--he had exactly the cover he needed. He threw his shoulder against the door and it burst open. Without pausing, Alex threw himself into a large man's knees. He judged him to be Levache.

  The Frenchman buckled instantly; Ordoñez roared and lunged at Alex's throat. Water continued to surge down from the sprinkler as they grappled with each other, Alex using one hand to push away Ordoñez's claw and the other to motion for Sarah, Anthony and Hart to leave the room.

  With them safely gone, Alex directed his full attention to Ordoñez. Ordoñez pulled back his fist and prepared to strike. Alex had a fleeting vision of himself facing down Hart before he dodged out of the way and hurled his weight at the assassin. Ordoñez crashed backward into a table and Alex turned around just in time to see Levache rising, one hand around a cocked pistol he was pointing at Alex's chest.

  Alex aimed a kick at Levache's hand and the gun toppled out of it, landing underneath a bunk. Levache cursed and dove after it. Alex swung the backpack containing their weapons over his shoulder and saw that Hart had had the sense to grab the automatic rifle on his way out.

  He leapt over Levache, who was struggling to retrieve his pistol, and charged out the door, narrowly avoiding two shots fired wildly by Ordoñez. As he ran for the other end of the car, intending to look for his friends, he saw the two killers appear at the door of the cabin. The sprinklers had by now shut off and the alarm died away.

  He took both guns out of the bag and held them against his attackers, who paused, buying Alex some time to inch back toward the door. "Put your guns down."

  "Congratulations, Alex," Ordoñez said. "We've reached an impasse. Neither of us is going to drop our guns. So, we must consider. How can we work this out?"

  Alex glanced around, eyeing the door and a fire extinguisher near it. The tilting motion of the train threatened to throw him off balance.

  "That door is locked," Levache said. "Don't even try."

  "The easiest solution, of course," Ordoñez continued, "would be simply to allow your friends to leave."

  "They're already gone," Alex said, trying to sound confident, but noticing the unsettling note in Ordoñez's voice.

  "I'm sure you heard me talking about the four Moose Killers on this train. Right about now they should have hit one or two."

  Alex's heart sank. He knew their escape had been too simple.

  "We're in communication," Ordoñez said. "Drop your weapons and we'll let them know about our deal."

  "Why should I trust you?" Alex said, shifting his guns to one hand.

  Ordoñez raised his left hand. "Mooser's honor."

  "Which counts for nothing!" Alex tore the fire extinguisher off the wall and smashed it into the window with his free hand. He reached through the hole he made, released the handle and burst through.

  The antiquated clasp that Melissa had mentioned was swaying before him, and was decidedly unsafe. It was all that spanned a large chasm between the two cars. Alex dodged away from the window as two bullets blasted through, leaving holes.

  He jumped across to the opposite ledge, turned toward the window and blasted through it several times with both of his weapons before taking the fire extinguisher from the ground and smashing through the second door. This was a public car. The walls were lined with chairs and sofas, and large windows faced out on the passing scenery. Many people were muttering or shouting about the sprinklers.

  Alex cast his eyes around and found Sarah, Anthony and Hart sitting facing a window, the latter holding the rifle, all watching the scenery.

  Anthony breathed in and out slowly. "Think he's dead yet?"

  "Boo!" Alex shouted, making them all jump. "I am Alex's departed spirit, here to haunt you!"

  They all looked stunned for a moment, then collapsed. "How did you--" Sarah began.

  Alex silenced her with a wave of his hand. "They should be coming soon. Anthony, hold this..." He thrust the fire extinguisher into Anthony's arms.

  "We have to get off," he continued. "Before any of them find us...we need to split up again. Same teams, yes, Hart, you have to help Anthony walk. You guys try and make it to the back. Sarah and I...I don't know. I'll think of something."

  He threw the second pistol to Sarah. "Let's go."

  At that moment Ordoñez and Levache burst through the opposite door. Alex and Hart leveled their weapons instantly; Sarah took slightly longer. "Anthony, get the goddamn door open!" he shouted frantically.

  Obediently Anthony began bashing the fire extinguisher against the locked door. Ordoñez fired and Hart dove behind a chair; people were screaming, fleeing for both exits, toward the assassins--

  Levache took aim and Alex panicked, managing to shield himself with a table the moment before Levache fired. From behind the shield Alex fired twice, missing both shots. At his back a jubilant yell told him that Anthony had the door open; covering himself and hiding in the crowd, he moved for safety.

  A throng of terrified passengers had clumped at the exit. Alex pushed through them, leapt over the gap and joined the others in the next car. People squeezed through, shrieking and yelling, at last passing them and racing across the hallway toward the other end. "This is where we part ways," Alex said. "One of them will probably go for each pair of us."

  Hart and Anthony nodded and fled. Sarah looked at Alex, mostly angry but slightly confident. "Where to?"

  "Follow me," Alex said, grinning to hide his fear. Across the hall the crowd had passed the door. Alex ran after them and Sarah followed behind.

  Once out on the connection, Alex gritted his teeth and put the gun in his pocket. He stole himself, counted to three, and grabbed the iron ladder with all his might.

  Sarah was understandably dumbstruck, but she appeared to go through the same thought process as Alex, and began to climb after him.

  At the top of the ladder, Alex found a different world. The mountains and forest flew past, but cutting them was a great, winding swath of blue--the Saskatchewan River. Meanwhile, the ever-present fog was rolling in again, and the light snow was turning heavier.

  The roof was cold and steel, not built for standing on, and slightly icy due to its frequent proximity to Yellowknife, but Alex stepped out on it anyway. Instantly he was bowled over--had he not grabbed the ladder as he fell he would have fallen off. Growling in anger, he climbed back on, bending himself against the strong winds.

  Sarah followed his lead and soon the two of them were standing atop the car. "We have to get to the back!" he shouted over the wind. "Which way is that!?"

  "Over there!" Sarah yelled back, pointing toward the edge of the train.

  "Quite correct!" called Levache. "Like to try and get there? There's nothing stopping you!"

  They both turned and gaped. The large, imposing man was climbing up from a gap across from them.

  Sarah turned to flee, but stood up in her haste. The wind overpowered her, and she flew backwards, sliding toward the crevice where they had come from and lying still on the edge.

  Alex cursed and drew his pistol, but Levache was too fast. They stood that way, bent and fighting to keep their balance atop the swaying train, Alex's gun hanging loosely by his side, Levache aiming directly at his heart, the Canadian landscape and the Saskatchewan River zooming past.

  "It amuses me greatly, you know!" Levache shouted.

  "What?"

  "Your constant attempts to outwit me and outgun me when you know that neither is possible!"

  "Outwi
tting you is quite possible! I know several people who could outwit you! My baby sister, for example!"

  Levache screwed up his face. "It is too late for your wit to save you, Alex Orson!"

  Alex was more concerned with fighting to keep his balance than listening to the assassin. The wind and the noises of the train obscured Levache's speech.

  "I'm sure you know who I am? Ordoñez tells me you and your friends have been snooping around the Moose Killers!"

  Alex listened. This might be a good chance.

  "I'm still in the dark about what it is you actually do!"