Something changed in the air, and everyone fell silent, as if put under a spell. Ned’s heart stilled for a split second and in the moment’s silence he heard it—the panting of an upcoming train. His legs were heavy as if Tom had encased them in blocks of lead, and his chest ran hot like a furnace despite the invisible shards of ice piercing his skin every time he exhaled. Ready or not, he was about to become an outlaw.
The ground under their feet shook with tremors only he seemed to feel, but, guided by the growing noise, all the men took positions behind bushes and rocks, their repeaters and shoguns ready for action. If Ned didn’t manage his stunt, the firearms meant to intimidate passengers might as well turn against him.
A few yards away, scooting at Pearl and Tom’s side was Cole, who’d lost his jolly mood altogether, as if the earlier laughter had been just for show. But where Ned had expected him to be focused on the tracks leading straight into the death-trap of a bridge or the smoke rising from beyond the trees, Cole stared right back at him.
Was Cole nervous about what might happen if Ned failed at the execution of this crazy idea?
He nodded. Cole nodded back, and the silent exchange released the steel chains keeping Ned from breathing fully. This wasn’t the time to feel sorry for himself. He’d made a commitment to the Craigs and if he failed at executing the planned stunt, Cole would bear the consequences of their failure too.
Ned had to succeed. The air in his lungs burned like cheap whisky, and each time he inhaled, it was another swig to make his head spin. The nearby rocks resembled a squinting face, and when the train emerged from behind them, it resembled a rifle placed on the shoulder of a giant. The wind blew faster, sending black smoke into Ned’s face, but when the heavy clouds opened, as if God himself looked on from above to judge Ned’s soul, the steam engine became a bullet dashing for the cliff edge that had nearly consumed Cole and him just hours prior.
In the orange glow of the setting sun, the train’s hard body was the embodiment of force and man’s will to conquer, but with the viaduct still in place, it fell to Ned to break its will, no matter how ferociously it bucked.
Fire danced in his veins as he hopped on Nugget’s back and took hold of the reins. This was the moment that would make or break his bid for revenge. The Pinkertons had been left hanging in Iron Rail City last Monday, and without the means to alert them to his situation Ned needed to work out a way to prove himself to Tom, his gang, and Cole, so they’d keep him for another month.
Were one of the guards on board to spot him, he could die from a bullet, and he’d been close enough to the punishing force of the steam engine earlier to know what its wheels might do to him or Nugget if he missed his mark. But this was the path he’d chosen, and if the three men who’d destroyed his life were to hang, he needed to shed his fear like a snake did its old skin.
Cole’s eyes shone above the black bandana covering the lower half of his face. His body was full of tension, like a young wolf’s who was eager to sink his teeth into the elk before the rest of the pack could reach the fallen prey.
But there was something else in his gaze, an intensity that kept reappearing throughout the day in moments of silence, and for the blink of an eye Ned wasn’t sure whether he should stay or go. But Cole put his revolver against his temple in mock-salute, and Ned dug his heels into Nugget’s side, dashing from between the trees toward the steaming head of the iron rattlesnake that might be his death or salvation.
With only a short distance to cover across the grassy hilltop, Ned slapped Nugget’s rear and sank low over his neck as they dashed toward the rail track at top speed in an effort to reach the locomotive before it could pass. If he’d miscalculated and boarded one of the cars instead, he was at a much greater risk of walking head-first into someone’s gun. And even if he managed to traverse the cars and reach the engine that way, it would cost precious minutes and leave him without the aid of the Gotham Boys.
Could he force himself to point a revolver at a man’s head to make him pull the brake? Ned was positive he could, but that was one thing and threatening the women and children surely present in the passenger cars—quite another. That part of the job needed to be carried out by someone else, therefore the very success of his plan lay on a timely jump from Nugget’s back.