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[September 2021]   

Word Count: 2995

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Chapters: 1

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THE TRAIN

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by

Eleanor Ward

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Curry is worried his recurring nightmare is about to become a reality.

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“Kid! Kid, wake up!” Hannibal Heyes reached over to shake his partner awake, having been woken by his anguished yells.

 

Curry woke, abruptly, his breath coming in short gasps, a look of panic in his eyes.

 

Heyes placed a reassuring hand on his arm,  “Relax. It was just a bad dream.”

 

Curry pulled himself into a sitting position facing their camp fire, pulling his knees up and resting one elbow across them while he raked his other hand through his unruly curls as he tried to dispel the panic raised by the nightmare.

 

“Was it that same dream again?”  asked Heyes, eyeing his friend compassionately.

 

Curry nodded, “Yeah.”

 

He’d had this same nightmare several times over the past few weeks; Riding along a railway track he would spot what appeared to be a teenage boy, sitting on the track, some distance away, with his back to him, and then hear the whistle of an oncoming train.  Despite shouting, and firing a warning shot from his gun, the boy seemed oblivious. Kicking his horse into motion he would race towards him, arriving just as the train came around the bend.  It was then that he realized that the boy was deaf and couldn’t hear him or the train, and also that his foot had somehow become wedged between the tracks and he had been trying to free himself.

 

“You’ve had that dream a few times lately.” Heyes’ voice broke into his reverie.

 

“Yeah.” agreed Curry. In the dream he hadn’t managed to save the boy and he believed this was why the dream kept recurring, as his subconscious mind tried to change the ending.

 

“Want some coffee?” Heyes enquired.

 

Curry shook his head,  “What time is it?”

 

“Heyes pulled out his pocket watch,  “Just after two a.m.”

 

Curry grimaced,  “Sorry, I woke you.  Best try and get a few more hours sleep.”

 

Heyes nodded and they settled back down in their bedrolls.

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*    *    * 

 

A few days later found them in a small town a few days ride north east of Denver, where they stopped off for a couple of days relaxation – to enjoy the luxury of sleeping in a proper bed, instead of camping out on the trail, and, hopefully, to increase their finances at the local poker tables.

 

After checking in at the hotel they headed up to the bathhouse, for a long overdue bath, and then got their hair cut before heading over to the restaurant for an early supper.

 

Later, they adjourned to the saloon where Curry stationed himself at the bar, from where he could watch Heyes’ back while he played poker.

 

None of the patrons were particularly adept at poker and it wasn’t long before Heyes had amassed a decent sum of money in front of him.

 

He decided to quit, before he took all their money and have them turn against him, planning to play again the next evening when, hopefully, there would be some different players in the group.

 

After a couple more drinks, he and Curry returned to the hotel.

 

They slept late the following morning, before heading to the restaurant for a late breakfast-early lunch.

 

As they left the restaurant, they noticed a man, on the opposite side of the street, staring intently at them.

 

“Ever seen that guy before?” Curry asked, without showing any sign that he’d spotted the man watching them.

 

“No, but I get the distinct feeling that he’s seen us before.” replied Heyes.

 

Instead of going into the hotel, they walked past it and around the corner where, pressing themselves against the wall, they surreptitiously peered around the corner of the building to see where the man went, not surprised when they saw him hurrying across the street to the Sheriff’s office.

 

Exchanging anxious glances, Heyes said, “You pay the hotel bill, I’ll get our things.”

 

Curry nodded and they hurried into the hotel, Curry stopping at the front desk while Heyes took the stairs two at a time.

 

“Can you make up our bill, please.  We’re leaving.” Curry addressed the desk clerk.

 

“So soon?  You only arrived yesterday.  I trust the reason for your departure isn’t anything to do with our hotel?”

 

“No. The hotel is fine. How much we owe you?”

 

“Four dollars, sir.” the desk clerk smiled politely.

 

Curry put the money down on the desk, “Got a back door?”

 

“Of course, sir, just down the corridor over there on the right.”  The desk clerk quickly picked up the money, still smiling politely and giving no indication of surprise at Curry’s question.

 

Curry turned away from the desk in time to see Heyes hurrying down the stairs with their belongings.

 

“This way.” Curry nodded towards the corridor the desk clerk had indicated.

 

“Have a safe journey, gentlemen. Next time you’re in town we hope you’ll consider staying with us again.” the desk clerk called after them, his smile still fixed on his face.

 

Heyes and Curry exchanged bemused expressions, at his words, before exiting the building through the back door.

 

Skirting around the back of the buildings, to keep out of sight, they headed to the livery where they quickly saddled their horses and headed out of town.

 

Over in the Sheriff’s office, the man was busily explaining that he had been on a train robbed by the Devil’s Hole Gang, a couple of years previously, and had recognized Heyes and Curry coming out of the town’s restaurant.

 

The Sheriff quickly organized a posse. After discovering two men answering their descriptions had recently departed the hotel, and then establishing from the liveryman the direction in which the two men had left town, they set off in pursuit of them.

 

 *    *    *

 

Some miles out of town, Curry glanced over his shoulder for any sign of pursuit as they galloped their horses.

 

“How far behind us do you reckon they are?” he shouted across to Heyes.

 

“Not far.”

 

“Maybe we should split up?” suggested Curry, “Might give us a better chance of one of us getting away?” But Heyes shook his head.

 

“Let’s head north and hope they won’t follow us over the state line.”

 

 

 

An hour or so later they came across a stream and stopped to give their horses a breather and drink.

 

Heyes re-filled their canteens while Curry scanned the horizon for any sign of pursuit, suddenly doing a double take.

 

“Look.” He pointed.

 

Heyes followed his gaze to see a dust cloud in the distance.

 

“Let’s get going.”  he said, swinging into the saddle and spurring his horse.

 

Curry ran to his own horse and took off after him.

 

They raced onwards, wondering how long their horses would be able to keep up the pace.

 

When they came to a bank of small hills, half an hour later, Curry held back, scanning the horizon from the highest point  to judge how far behind them the posse were.

 

“Come on!” yelled Heyes, carrying on riding.

 

“I’ll catch you up.” Curry yelled after him, shading his eyes against the afternoon sun as he scoured the horizon.

 

The dust cloud was still visible but seemed a little further away than it had done earlier.

 

Turning his horse, Curry galloped after Heyes who was now a good three hundred yards ahead of him.

 

Off to his right he spotted the railway line, which curved through the northern part of Colorado before veering off back into Nebraska and on towards Wyoming.

 

Ahead of him, Heyes was just about to cross the railway line unaware of a rattlesnake that lay on the tracks basking in the sun.

 

As his horse approached the line, the snake began to shake its rattle.

 

The horse, spooked by the snake, twisted away and then reared up pitching Heyes out of the saddle to land heavily on the track, slamming his head hard against the metal rail and whirling down into unconsciousness.

 

“Heyes!” Curry yelled, as he saw his partner pitch out of the saddle.

 

Just then, a train whistle pierced the air.

 

Turning, Curry saw the train, coming from the east.

 

He turned to look again at Heyes, hoping to see him get up and move off the tracks, but he remained motionless.

 

Curry urged his horse faster, praying he could get to him before the train did.

 

Suddenly, the nightmare he’d suffered these past few weeks pushed its way into his mind, causing his stomach to turn over.  He hadn’t been able to save the boy in the dream.  Would he be able to save Heyes?  Or had the dream been a premonition of this very event – of Heyes’ death?

 

Eyeing the rapidly approaching train he spurred his horse on, praying Heyes was still alive. He’d seen men break their necks in falls like that before now.

 

Pulling out his gun he fired into the air, in the vain hope of alerting the train driver of the danger ahead. But the train continued at speed.

 

Curry finally reached the line, pulling his horse to a skidding stop and leaping out of the saddle.

 

He raced across to Heyes, one eye on the train which looked dangerously close.

 

“Heyes?” he called, dropping to his knees at his side, but he received no response.

 

Quickly, he reached out two fingers and pressed them to Heyes’ neck, relieved to feel a pulse at least, although there was no knowing what kind of injury he may have sustained in the fall.

 

He looked again at the train.  It was now only moments away.

 

Grabbing hold of Heyes’ jacket, he dragged his unconscious form off the track, onto the dirt, seconds before the train thundered past sounding its whistle loudly at the obstruction on the line.

 

Curry sat down, heavily, leaning back on his elbows as he tried to get his breath and calm his pounding heart.  That had been close.  Too close.  A few seconds more and Heyes would have been dead, crushed by the wheels of the train.

 

The thought turned his stomach and he leaned over, fearing he was going to throw up.

 

It was several moments before the nausea passed.  He sat up, placing his elbows on his knees and holding his head in his hands as he tried to calm himself, his mind returning to the dream and its possible implications.  If he hadn’t hung back to check for the posse he would have been by Heyes’ side and would have been able to pull him away from danger in plenty of time. He chastised himself for falling behind, knowing that it could easily have cost his friend his life.

 

A groan from Heyes drew him from his reverie.  Scrambling to his knees he moved to Heyes’ side.

 

“Heyes?” he called, gently patting his cheek.

 

Heyes gave another groan and then his eyes fluttered open.  He stared up at Curry, obviously confused as to where he was and what had happened.

 

“Wh-what… happened…?” he croaked, reaching a hand up to touch the side of his head, which felt like someone had hit him with a rock.

 

“Your horse threw you, onto the track.  You must have hit your head on the rail line and knocked yourself out.”

 

Heyes stared up at the sky as he contemplated Curry’s words.

 

“Snake...” he muttered, presently, “on the line… Spooked the horse…”

 

Curry looked around him,  “I guess your horse must have spooked the snake too... it aint here no more.” he said, as he moved to help Heyes up into a sitting position, glad that he didn’t have a snake bite to contend with too.

 

“Ooh, my head…” muttered Heyes, holding his head in his hands as dizziness overcame him.

 

Presently, the dizziness subsided and he dropped his hands to see Curry staring at him with an anguished expression.

 

“I’m okay.” he said, interpreting Curry’s expression as concern for any possible injury, “Just let me rest a couple of minutes and I’ll be good to go.”

 

“Ha!” grunted Curry, as his pent up emotions burst out, “Heyes, do you know how close you just came to dying?” he yelled, his voice rising several pitches, “This much,” he held his finger and thumb fractionally apart, “that’s all.”

 

“Huh?” Heyes looked puzzled.

 

“After you got thrown, a train came down the line.  You were out cold, in the middle of the track, and I was way behind you. I didn’t think I’d reach you before the train did…”

 

“But you did.” said Heyes.

 

“Barely. When I got to you, the train was moments away.  I dragged you off the track with literally five seconds to spare…” Curry shook his head, still scarcely able to believe how close Heyes had come to being decimated by the train,  “If I’d been five seconds later, it would have been too late…” he trailed off, shaking his head to himself.

 

Heyes’ mouth formed an ‘O’ as the realization began to hit home.

 

Their eyes met and held, Curry’s full of the angst he’d just endured, Heyes’ of gratitude.

 

“Thank you.” he said presently.

 

“You’re welcome.” replied Curry, letting the tension out of his body in deep sigh, “Are you hurt anywhere else? Anything broke?”

 

Heyes gave himself a cursory examination before shaking his head and then wishing he hadn’t as it caused the pain in his head to increase,  “Oww.” he said, rubbing the area, just above his right ear.

 

Curry examined the spot, “There’s no cut.” he told him, “But you’re probably gonna have a headache for a while. You landed pretty hard.”  Then, remembering the posse, he said, “Think you can ride? That posse can’t be far behind us.”

 

“Sure.” said Heyes. His head hurt like hell and he would have liked to rest a while longer, but they couldn’t afford to linger here with that posse so close behind them so he pasted on a smile and held out his arm for Curry to help him to his feet, swaying dizzily as he did so.

 

“You O.K?” Curry looked concerned.

 

Heyes nodded, rubbing his painful head, while Curry retrieved his horse, which had wandered off to nibble on a patch of grass some yards away, and boosted him up into the saddle.

 

“This rail line crosses back into Nebraska not far from here.” Heyes said, as Curry mounted his own horse, “If we follow the line back into Nebraska, with luck the posse won’t follow us.  And then maybe we can catch up with the train when it makes a stop for water and perhaps hitch a ride?”

 

“Sounds like a plan.” said Curry.

 

With a glance over their shoulders, to make sure the posse wasn’t in sight, they set off at a gallop, following the train line.

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*    *    * 

 

Hours later, reclining in one of the box cars of the train, which they’d caught up with at a water stop, Curry was in reflective mood.

 

Heyes gave him a sidelong glance, “What’ya thinkin’?”

 

Curry shrugged,  “Just about what happened back on the railway line… You know, Heyes, that dream I’ve been having lately… I’m thinking it must have been some kind of premonition of what was going to happen today.”

 

Heyes eyed him curiously,  “But, in that dream, I thought you said the boy died?”

 

Curry nodded,  “He did. But…it seems odd that he was stuck on the train line and couldn’t hear me because he was deaf, and you were on the train line and couldn’t hear me because you were unconscious.”

 

“Coincidence.” said Heyes.

 

“I dunno… I have no idea what started that dream. It wasn’t like I’d read anything, or overheard any conversation that might have triggered it. It just started out of the blue.”

 

“Since you said the boy in the dream died, and I didn’t, I don’t think it was necessarily a premonition… perhaps more a case of your fears about not being able to protect me coming through in your dreams.  After all, we have been chased by a fair few posses this past few months, and come close to getting killed more than once. I think that’s more likely the trigger for it.”

 

Curry sighed,  “Maybe you’re right.  Still seems a bit odd though.” He shrugged, “Guess I’ll just have to wait and see if I have the dream again."

 

“Even if you do, it don’t necessarily mean it’s a premonition of any kind.  The trouble with you is you worry too much.  You need to relax more!” said Heyes, as he put his hat over his face in readiness to take a nap.

 

Curry gave him a withering look,  “Heyes, trying to keep you alive and out of trouble takes up all of my time and most of my energy.  The only way I’m ever gonna get the chance to relax is if I kill you myself!” he growled.

 

Heyes lifted up his hat and looked at Curry who was giving him his best gunman’s stare.

 

They held each other’s gaze for a moment before Curry’s face broke into a grin.

 

With a wry shake of his head, Heyes replaced his hat over his face while Curry sat studying him, his mind returning to the events of the afternoon and of how close Heyes had come to being killed. A shudder ran through him at the thought, and he found himself giving thanks, for his friend’s deliverance, to a God he no longer believed in.

 

Yes, keeping Heyes, and himself, alive was a full time job, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

Presently, with a rueful smile, he too lay back and put his hat over his face.

 

 

They jumped off the train a few hours later, just outside of Cheyenne, and after picking up a couple of horses they headed towards Porterville, having decided to pay a visit to Lom for an update on the status of their amnesty application.  Over time, the close call with the train faded from their immediate memories as other more pressing incidents and mishaps threatened them and their quest for amnesty. And Curry never did have the dream again.

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--oo00oo--

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The Train.jpg

With acknowledgement to BeeJay's  'Alias Smith & Jones Writers' forum who provided the theme for this story topic.

If you would like to read/participate in their monthly writing challenge visit:  asjfanfic .forumotion.com

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