Episode 2: The Train Heist

"But...but sir," my voice trembles, "I don't know the first thing about killing."

Ray Black eyes me suspiciously.  "You were a medic in the war and you don't know anything about killin'?  You sure been 'round a lot of death."

"I'm just a rancher, mister.  I have a family."

"The only way you can get back to your family is by helping me," Ray snarls.  I certainly can't let you go."

"Wh...why not?"  I whimper.

"Because you seen my face.  I can't risk you tellin' anybody where I am,"  Ray slyly glances toward his sidearm.  "You're in the shit now, son.  You do what I tell you, you go back home to your family."

Think about Mary, think about Sam.  What are their chances if you're dead?

"Yes, sir.  What happened between you and Charlie?"

Ray's voice lowers.  The shadows from the firelight cover Ray's eyes.  "Charlie used to be my best friend.  We grew up together in Tennessee.  When the war broke out, Charlie jumped at the chance to enlist.  Said he wanted to 'kill him some bluecoats.'  Charlie could sell water to a fish, boy could talk.  He somehow convinced me to enlist with him."

Ray lets out a wry smile.  For a second, he wasn't the terrifying man of his reputation.  "I mean, at the time, three solid meals and a paycheck was hard to turn down."

Then he looks up at me, his blue eyes pierce my soul.  He voice deepens.  "Killin' came easy to us, but Charlie was especially good at it.  He enjoyed inflicting pain.  We became quite efficient "

Ray's eyes soften.  "I lost a lot of friends, a lot of boys that grew up with nothin'.  But we survived.  After the war, the South was ravaged.  Poor boys sent to go die came home with nothing while the politicians that got us into the war didn't lose a damn thing.  That didn't sit right with Charlie and me.  We started with stage coaches, not a lot of pushback from the driver or the passengers.  Wave your gun around and they'll give you whatever you want."

He takes a pull from the bottle and wipes his mouth.  "Trains were the big score.  The more trains we knocked over, the more Charlie's...methods...became more violent.  After a while it was less about the money and more about doing the most damage.  All we wanted to do was even the score a little but Charlie's influence over the gang became absolute.  But we lost sight of who we were."

Ray lights a cigar and takes a long drag, blowing the cloud into the air.  "A few days ago, we got word of a government train leaving Chattanooga for Washington.  On board was hundreds of thousands of dollars seized from Southern banks.  This score would last us until our dyin' day.  We had it all planned out.  Before riding out, I told Charlie this would be my last job, that I was sick of the killin'.  With this score I could head out into the mountains and live out comfortably til my last breath."

Ray takes another drag of his cigar.  "Charlie didn't like that.  He said that we were a team and that only a coward would quit on his brothers.  But I told him nothing could change my mind, that I would help him one more time and that was it."

He crushes out his cigar.  "We couldn't have planned that job any better.  We got on the train, took our hostages, and relieved them of their coffers.  Everything went according to plan until one Pinkerton had to try and be a hero.  We were on our way out and one of the Pinkertons got the drop on me and pulled a small revolver.  Charlie turned that man's head into a canoe.  Then he shot everyone in the cars.  Passengers, Pinkertons, the bastard that shovels the coal, you name it.  Those boys killed every last person on that train.  Charlie, with a big grin on his face, turns to me."

'I thought a lot about what you said, Ray.  Here's your cut.  You're out.'

"I reach for the bag and everyone draws on me."

'But you know what I look like, what all of us here look like.  Can't rightfully let you go tellin' somebody what happened here.  It's a damn shame, we made a good team.  But you got soft.  Even when we was enlisted up you never had the stomach for this kind of thing."

"Charlie shoots.  Fire fills my chest.  Charlie stands over me, looking me in the eyes."

'Sorry, Ray, see you on the other side.'

"Everything goes black.  I wake up days later in the train car, surrounded by bodies of the poor souls unlucky enough to be on that train.  Parched and weak, I drag myself out of the car.  After walking for what feels like hours in the Tennessee sun, I find a small stream and drink from it before pressing on.  My wound steadily leaking blood, I settle down and manage to make a fire at dusk.  This is where you found me."

Ray throws his head back and finishes the bottle.  He lays back and tips his hat over his face.  "Get some rest, son, tomorrow we go into town.  That's where your job starts."


TO BE CONTINUED...