[DL] Rail Wars II (fiction)

[Brom Clancy <spleen23@webtrolls.com>]

RAIL WARS: Part II “Lost in the desert”

The sun burns down from a cloudless sky with a harsh 
heat that can dry the life out of a man, turning his 
skin to leather and his mind to distraction. Under 
the light of the cruel sun can be seen a long trail 
of foot steps in the sand leading up to the stumbling 
figure of Arty dainty.

Arty is much the worst for a day spent under the sun, 
his normally animated grinning features are sun burnt 
and haggarred as he finally stumbles into the shade 
of a large rocks that line a narrow passage though 
the cliffs ahead of him. Arty pauses to lean against 
the rock only long enough to catch his breath before 
he continues his determined march onward. Arty had 
been glad when he met Ms King two years ago, she was 
the first person who had treated him as a person 
rather then some dim witted freak. Ms. King had paid 
him to spy on people for her, and when that ended up 
getting him into hot water she had hired him on 
permanent. Since then Arty had done his very best to 
help Ms King out, even when he found out that she was 
more then just a reporter. Arty owed Ms King, she had 
learned how to speak the sign language just so she 
could teach him, and had encouraged his talents with 
mechanical devices to the point of him becoming her 
assistant in both of her professions.
Ms King had stayed behind on the train so that Kang’s 
men would look no further for the packet of paper she 
had trusted him with, sacrificing her freedom and 
possible her life to see that the papers got to her 
contact in the area, and come Hell or High water, 
Arty was going to see that they got their. So with a 
deep breath, Arty dusted his suit, tipped his bowler, 
and strode onward into the cool shadows of the 
passage between the rocks. 

As Arty walks along he begins to feel, twitchy, as if 
someone was watching him. He slowly turns his eyes 
from side to side as he tries to see if he is alone, 
only to stop and look down with mild surprise as a 
stone skips and rolls down from above to land at his 
feet. With a scattering of loose gravel Arty is off 
at a surprising speed, his short legs flashing as he 
runs for cover only to slip and fall at the sandaled 
feet of a large raggedly dressed Mexican. Arty looks 
up to give a friendly smile and raises his hand in a 
feeble wave, the Mexican returns a happy gap toothed 
smile just before he smashes the stock of his shotgun 
into Arty’s head, and Arty into unconsciousness. 

Miles away and a short time later, Theodore Peel 
stops with a stumbling step in the loose sand at the 
top of a dune to adjust the white handkerchief tied 
at the corners that cover his head in a vain attempt 
to ward of the heat of the sun. Keeping his hand 
raised and held flat above his eyes, Theo slowly 
scans his sight across the horizon seeing only more 
sun heated stone and lifeless sand. With a sigh Theo 
sinks down to sit at the peak of the dune and rests 
his head against his knees, only to raise his head in 
surprise at the sound of horses in the far off 
distance. “Hallooo, over here” Jumping to his feet 
Theo begins to shout and wave his arms overhead to 
attract the attention of the far off wagon just now 
coming into his view. Seeing the wagon turn in his 
direction Theo quickly stumbles through the loose 
sand to make his way down the dune in order to meet 
the wagon on flat ground. Busy adjusting and dusting 
his clothing in order to present himself in some 
dignity, Theo does not look at to examine the wagon 
and its drivers until they are already too close to 
flee.

Theo looks up at the sound of the advancing wagon 
with a smile that is swiftly replaced by questioning 
expression and a sinking feeling in his guts at the 
sight of the barred cage that fills the back of the 
stout wagon. As the wagon eases to a stop next to 
him, Theo focuses on the ruggedly dressed Mexican who 
gives his a gap toothed grin from his seat in the 
wagon before turning to speak in a guttural voice to 
the wagon’s driver,  “Eh Blanco, looks like we have 
caught another vagrant.”   Theo has time only to 
raise his one hand in protest before the shotgun 
stock flashes forward to strike him soundly in the 
temple. As Theo drifts from consciousness, he hears 
the driver speak in complaint “Why do you always have 
to hit them in the head, we just end up having to 
carry them….”

The Mexican unlocks the back of the cage and warns 
its inhabitant back from the door with a glare as his 
partner drags the long limp form of Theodore Peel to 
the back of the wagon. With a rough heave the two 
toss Theo into the cage to land in a awkward heap at 
the feet of Arty Dainty. Arty smiled sadly, thinking 
that at least they were together again.

The rest of the day passed by in a confused series of 
fragmented memories for Theo. The ride to town, the 
hours in a jail cell, and the trial. By the next 
morning Theo had recovered enough to understand that 
he had been convicted of vagrancy and would spend the 
next 30 days at labor for the local farmers as his 
sentence. “Oh just look the mess you’ve gotten us 
into now” complained Theo. At Arty’s hurt look, Theo 
went on “Of course I blame you. I only hope who ever 
we don’t end up working at the same place”.

Coming next week:

RAIL WARS: Part III “Bushwacked”