“So, what’s this idea of yours?” Nellie asked.
They were back in the lead coach car, the one that connected with the dining car. Nellie found herself on the bench, squeezed between Ian and her growing doubts. When they had first met, Nellie had found Ian to be a functioning lunatic. But even though they only knew each other for a few days now, Nellie had evolved towards him.
Nellie had a random memory of primary school, and the teacher talking about the Ancient Greek story of the prophetess Cassandra who was cursed never to be trusted. When Paris of Troy had brought home his beloved Helen, all of the Trojans welcomed her except for Cassandra. The prophetess had foreseen the tragedy that followed in the wake of Paris’ ship. But nobody ever believed her, not even when the Greeks came and laid siege to the city for ten years. A young Nellie had sighed and looked out the window and daydreamed during most of those lessons, but that one had stuck with her. And as she looked over at Ian, she knew that this was no different. She had to trust him, even when everything told her not to.
Ian was off in his own little world, and Nellie repeated her question. “What’s the plan?”
Ian snapped into focus. “Well, the idea is simple. Right now, there are seven people who are barricaded in the first-class car: four guards and three passengers. The last time I was in that car, I noted that the coal supply was running low. And that was some time ago. Odds are pointing to them running out of coal entirely and them now relying on the supply from the dining car. That too will run out any minute now, if my estimates are correct.”
Nellie reminded herself that she had to believe him. “And so what happens after that?”
“What everyone else has chosen to overlook is that there is a perfectly good bucket of coal sitting at the front of the car, right next to the door,” Ian said, pointing to the front. Nellie looked ahead and indeed there was a bucket sitting there, the lumps of coal peeking over the brim. “I saw it out of the corner of my eye when I was fleeing from the marshals for the second time.”
“Third time,” Nellie corrected him.
Ian smiled thinly. “Oh, my mother would be proud. Anyway, my guess is that one of the porters was walking with it when he decided to take a break in the dining car. And…well, you remember what happened in the dining car not too long ago. The porter must have forgotten about it in the fiasco that followed.”
“So what are you going to do with the coal? Are you going to pelt them with it when they walk through the door looking for fuel? Or are you going to squeeze into the bucket and jump out when they grab it?”
“Well, wait until I finish before you start telling me how ridiculous it all sounds,” Ian chastised her. “But seriously, the coal is the key. Did you wonder why I insisted on retrieving my satchel?”
“Well, not until you just asked me that question,” Nellie admitted. When they were making their way from the cattle car to the lead coach car, Ian had stopped at the restroom in that car. Nellie thought that he was going to relieve himself, but she was surprised when he emerged from the restroom with a rich leather satchel in hand. She didn’t know that he had the bag with him at the beginning of the trip, which he had stuffed into the crack between the sink and the wall. If it had been any other person, Nellie would have been curious. But again, she was choosing to accept Ian’s insanity as reasonable.
“So what’s in the bag, then?” Nellie asked, figuring that was the question that Ian wanted from her. Ian didn’t answer but instead opened the satchel. He leaned over and showed the inside of the bag to Nellie, and all she saw was just chaos. There were wrinkled papers and crumbling cigars and a yellowing book on botany and what looked like a riding crop. She also heard the crackling of broken glass at the foot of the bag. Nellie looked back at Ian. “Did you expect me to be surprised by all of that?”
Ian looked a little disappointed. “In a way, I was. But while it looks like a mess, it’s organized just the way I want it.” He suddenly reached into the bag. Without even fishing around, he yanked out a shiny object and held it up to Nellie. She peered at it, and even in the dim car, she could see the glint of gold.
“It’s a snuffbox,” Ian said as he cracked open the lid.
“It’s beautiful,” Nellie said, her eyes dazzled by the box’s gold skin and the deep purple stone planted in the lid.
Ian shrugged. “It’s just a box. As long as it can hold something, I don’t care what it looks like.”
He turned the little box over on its side and dumped its insides into the palm of his hand. Nellie saw that it was a cloth pouch, but before she could say anything, Ian said, “And this is my remaining supply of opium. This is my most prized possession.”
“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to respond to that.”
“It’s probably for the best that you don’t,” Ian said. “But anyway, this is the plan. I’m going to dump all of this opium in that bucket of coal, and we’re going to wait for the marshals to find it. What they won’t know while they’re dumping the coal into the fire is that they’re also dumping enough opium to knock out an elephant. From there, we just have to wait for the fumes to circulate through the car and put everyone to sleep. Then we walk in and drag out the unconscious Mr. Davis. He’s going to have quite the nightmare when he wakes up.” Ian finished, looking rather triumphant with himself, and then looked at Nellie. He frowned. “Why do you look so nervous, Nellie?”
“Does it show?” Nellie laughed. “I’m with you, of course. I just want you to acknowledge that what you’re asking is absolutely insane, something that anyone else would refuse to go along with. I want to hear you say that you’re asking too much of me.”
Ian looked at her for a few moments. Finally, he said, with some effort, “I’m asking a lot of you, and I’m sorry for that…” He stopped in mid-sentence and stood up and walked to the front of the car. Nellie looked down the aisle and watched as he discreetly poured the entire bag of opium into the bucket. He walked back, a strut flickering in his stride, and took his seat next to Nellie. Ian looked at her and added happily, “But there’s nothing you can do about it, because you want to know how the story ends.”
“Maybe, but I don’t want to end before the story does,” Nellie said.
“Don’t forget your speech back in the cattle car, about being true to your past. I thought all of you reporters were driven by a good story.”
“We are, but we also like surviving long enough to write about it.”
You mean to tell me that you’ve traveled around the world and seen what humanity is capable of, and now you’re afraid of what might happen?”
“And you aren’t?” Nellie asked.
“I’ve already died, and frankly I can’t tell the difference between Earth and Hell. There’s nothing left for me to be afraid of. One of these days you’re going to learn that same lesson. Who knows? Today might be that day for you.”
The second that Ian finished talking, the door ahead creaked open. Both Ian and Nellie turned and watched as one of the marshals slipped into the dark car and looked around. Spotting the tempting bucket of coal, the marshal stooped down and took it by the handle. Ian noticed that the marshal was being careful not to attract attention. Although the car was returning back to its slumber, all it took was the slightest noise to break the truce.
“This better work,” Ian said. “Don’t tell me I wasted the rest of my opium for nothing.”
Ian got up once more, dragging Nellie by the arm behind him. As they made their way to the door, Ian had a horrible thought: what if they blockaded the doors? He had no idea how long the effects of the stupor would last, and he couldn’t risk the marshals waking up before he could get into the room and capture Davis.
The door to the dining car opened easily, almost too easily. As the light from the car peeked out, Ian glanced inside. The marshal was walking quickly, already closing the door at the far end of the car behind him. For the first time during the trip, the
dining car was starved of motion. As the pair walked through the empty car, Ian could feel the pinpricks of hair on the back of his neck. His heart beat faster as he wondered what was on the other side of the door. Whatever it was, he was ready – he had to be.
When they reached the next door, Ian pressed his ear to the wood and listened for a few moments. Confident that there was no one out on the vestibule, they opened the door and stepped out onto the platform. Ian softly closed the door behind them and gestured to Nellie to keep quiet. He suspected, and rightly so, that the marshals in the next car would blast them apart if they heard even a sound out on the platform.
Ian crept to the platform of the next car and repeated the same process of eavesdropping through the door. This time, he could hear voices – they were indistinct and murmuring through the wood, but he could hear them nevertheless. Already, Nellie was shivering, the cold that seeped through the vestibule getting to her. But Ian wasn’t paying enough attention to be cold. His ear pressed to the door was as steady as it would ever be.
After what felt like forever but was barely a minute, Nellie wanted to ask Ian if she could sit in the dining car and wait to be called into action. But before she could, Ian snapped to attention and twisted the door handle in his grip. He was so quick that he was already in the room before the door could swing open and clatter against the wall. As Ian vanished into the room, Nellie followed close behind. At least, she followed for a few steps before coming to a halt.
She was amazed by what she saw. There was the dour marshal who had gone to fetch the coal – he was passed out in front of the stove. The other marshals were a few feet away, also sprawled out on the floor. In spite of the circumstances, Nellie almost burst out laughing at the marshal who looked like a weasel. Haley had fallen backwards in his chair, and his arms were stretched out – he looked peacefully asleep, in spite of how much that fall backwards must have hurt.
Suddenly, Nellie felt a bit intoxicated. Without warning, her legs wobbled, and for a moment, Nellie thought that she was going to fall. It wasn’t until she found herself being dragged out of the car and onto the platform by Ian that she realized she had fallen after all. “Stay here,” Ian said, feeling sheepish. He thought that the open door would provide enough ventilation to water down the opium in the air. He had miscalculated, though. As Ian made his way back into the car, Nellie called out lazily after him, “Watch out for that first step.”
While the others were feeling the effects of the opium, Ian could only feel a tingling sensation. For once, Ian was glad that he had built up a thick resistance to the drug over the years. “And they told me I had a problem,” Ian muttered. “All this time, I had a solution.”
The sleeping compartment reserved for Davis was in the middle of the car. There was a marshal asleep on the floor in front of the compartment door, and Ian grunted to push him out of the way. He tried the doorknob – it was loose in his hands. And so he took a deep breath and forced the door open.
The first thing he felt was a clumsy fist smashing into the side of his face. Surprised, Ian stumbled backwards, tripping over the fallen marshal as he did so. As Ian fell to the floor, he looked up to see Carson Price, the bodyguard, looming over him. The man had a wet cloth pressed firmly to his face, acting as a hasty mask. Ian could see that the opium had managed to take its toll, though. Any other day, the bodyguard would have been a challenge. But he swung slow with his fists, and Ian saw a stagger in the man’s walk.
Ian scrambled to his feet as Price advanced. Price threw another punch, but this time, Ian was more than ready. He ducked the bodyguard’s left fist and saw his opportunity open up. Ian put all of his weight into his punch and landed it on the left side of Price’s ribcage, just below his armpit. Price gasped and fell to the side. He writhed on the floor, gasping until he too was infected by the opium.
“A man is only as strong as his spleen,” Ian slurred, the fumes finally getting to him. That was when he heard a thud, followed by what he thought at first was an explosion. He glanced back at the sleeping compartment and saw Davis perched in the open window, about to jump out. The explosion he heard was the sound of the wind rushing in, like an invisible lion roaring through the tall grass.
Davis looked at him as if he wanted to scream out in frustration. But instead, Davis turned and leapt out of the window. Ian rushed to the windowsill and looked out. He could only see a swirling darkness. In his mind, though, he could see Davis in the snow, trying to find a way back into the train. While Davis was surely concerned about getting back on the train, Ian was afraid he wouldn’t. The night was dark, and it wouldn’t take much for someone to become disoriented and walk off in the wrong direction. Ian needed Davis alive – the mystery would only end with his confession.
Without another second of hesitation, Ian ran to the window and jumped out.
Chapter 14