Snippet #1368022

A long trail of black smoke drifted over the gently rolling hills of the northern Great Plains. The ground shook slightly, as a black locomotive hauled a line of green and red train cars down the lonely tracks. The rhythmic hiss of steam and clanking drowned out the buzzing of insects and the cries of hunting hawks. Mammals, large and small had already fled the area, leaving the surrounding countryside empty, save for swaying grass and scattered wild flowers.

Robert sat in a gently rocking train car, number five from the engine, staring towards the back. His blue-gray eyes slowly slid over the crowd of his fellow passengers, looking each face with care from behind the disks of glass, which where perched on his nose. He could feel he was close to his quarry. For the better part of the past two days, he and his posse of Pinkertons had been riding this train, closing on Twitchy Joe. They had slowly searched up through the train cars, getting off at very stop to watch the crowd and to move to a new car.

His eyes narrowed slightly, as he found a smallish man sitting in the middle of the car. Skinny and lanky, the man had a balding head of greasy black hair, which seemed to wobble slightly. The man looked just like the wanted poster, which was stuffed in the carpet bag, along with boxes of shells, his coach gun and some spare clothing, that was sitting next to the Pinkerton.

As Robert reached into the deep pocket of his duster, his fingers brushing over the grip of his Smith & Wesson Model 3 revolver, something unexpected started to happen. The train’s engineer stared down the tracks, at a shimmering patch of light, which had appeared above the tracks. The man didn’t reach for the break, knowing that it would be to late to slow the train and convinced that he was seeing some sort of heat mirage. However, it didn’t go away as the train raced towards it.

As the cowcatcher touched the patch of light, there was a blinding flash, which surged forwards, enveloping the entire train. Within a second, the steel wheels of the train met soil and grass. The engine shook side to side, almost tipping over several times, as it surged forwards. Finally, with the aid of a large rock, the locomotive flipped over on it’s left side and skidded to a halt, when the cars it had been pulling, smashed into it.

Robert groaned, as he opened his eyes. He could hear weeping, others groaning or moaning and what might be the crackle of flames. He couldn’t remember what happened. The last thing he could recall was standing up, getting ready to arrest Joe, when there had been a flash and then, nothing.