David Healey - Rebel Train

“Why don’t it seem like I’m married?”

Benjamin turned a deeper shade of red. “It just don’t, is all.”

“Well, I’m a schoolteacher,” Nellie said.

Flynn had to bite the insides of his cheeks to keep from laughing. He glanced at Nellie, but she had a perfectly straight face. The lass was a smooth liar, yes, she was. A schoolteacher! She was a whore, if ever he had seen one. A fancy whore, to be sure, but a whore nonetheless.

The boy appeared satisfied with her answer. He looked ready to ask another question, but the train began to slow. The drive wheels squealed as the engineer reversed direction. It was no small task to stop a hurtling train. Flynn, Nellie and Benjamin were nearly thrown off their feet.

“Why the hell are we stopping?” Flynn wondered out loud.

Benjamin ran to the windows, fighting to keep his balance as the train rocked and swayed.

“There’s a depot up ahead,” he reported. “Looks like we’re going to stop there.”

Flynn stood, drew the big Le Mat revolver, and checked the loads and priming caps.

“Trouble?” Nellie asked.

“Don’t know,” he said. “But if there’s no trouble on the tracks ahead, then it’s coming up behind us.”

“You’re right, Sergeant,” Benjamin said. “That other train ain’t far behind.”

“Come on, lad,” Flynn said. “Let’s see what all the ruckus is about.”

The train rolled to a stop at the depot. Within minutes, the lone station agent was tied up and locked inside his office.

The engineer, fireman and Willie Forbes hurried to resupply the locomotive from the water tower and wood pile.

“Hurry, boys!” Percy shouted. “There’s not much time.”

Every minute brought their pursuers closer. The trail of smoke grew ominously larger in the sky. Percy had no idea who was on the pursuing train or whether it carried any armed men. He was not about to let his own men be captured while they took on wood and water.

“Them Yankees are getting closer,” Pettibone drawled.

“All right, listen here,” Percy said. “We’re going to give those Yankees a surprise.”

Quickly, he outlined his plan. His men were soon working to pile railroad ties on the tracks just behind the train. There was a big stack of ties nearby and the men paired off and lugged the heavy timbers and laid them across the iron rails. At the very least, it would take their pursuers several minutes to clear the tracks.

On a siding, they discovered a boxcar loaded with rails and ties meant for repairs. Percy had the men push it into place behind Lincoln’s car. They coupled it to the train, then broke out a few boards at one end to make a front entrance. Percy claimed it might prove useful later.

Wilson was busy filling the water tank. It seemed to be taking forever. Forbes and Cunningham slung chunks of firewood into the tender as fast as they could. The tender was little more than a water tank on wheels, with high sides so that firewood could be piled on top.

“How much longer, Wilson?” Percy shouted toward the engine.

“Give us twenty minutes, Colonel, and we’ll have enough wood and water to run clear to Ohio if we want.”

“We don’t have twenty minutes,” Percy. “And we’re going to Virginia, not Ohio. You’ve got five minutes.”

“Wood’s wet, Colonel,” Forbes complained, nearly breathless from work. “They ain’t got no shed here to keep the wood dry.”

“It will burn once it gets in that firebox,” Percy said. “It’s hot as Hades in there.”

Percy looked over his shoulder. The other train was coming on fast. Too fast . He wasn’t sure now that he could even give Wilson the five minutes to finish refueling the Chesapeake . In any case, Percy didn’t want to be caught unprepared if the pursuers roared into Kearneysville with a train loaded with soldiers.

“Get ready for a fight, boys!” Percy shouted, running for the barricade. If it came to it, they would use their guns to buy a few more minutes for replenishing the train. Getting a head start on the Yankees wouldn’t do them a bit of good if they ran out of steam before the rendezvous point.

Percy deployed his men in pairs. Flynn and Benjamin took positions behind the stack of ties, just to one side of the tracks. Hazlett and Cook took the other side, behind the rough wooden building that served as the stationmaster’s office. Pettibone and Fletcher crawled beneath the boxcar, sheltering behind the iron wheels. For a hastily laid ambush, Percy decided, it wasn’t bad. The Rebels would be able to pour fire down either side of the train when it arrived. Any Yankees who jumped off would find themselves in the Confederates’s gunsights.

The train came on, sounding like a distant thunderstorm approaching.

“If those fool Yankees don’t slow down, they’re going to slam right into the back of the Chesapeake ,” Percy warned

“Get ready, lads!” Flynn shouted.

The rails hummed. Then, like a great, black beast spitting smoke and sparks, the pursuing locomotive swept into Kearneysville. Iron howled on iron as the Lord Baltimore reversed its drive wheels and struggled to stop in time. The locomotive barreled down on the raiders.

“Steady, boys!” Percy shouted from his own position beside the boxcar filled with rails and ties. He cocked the hammer of his Colt. “Keep hidden until I give the word.”

“Stop the train!” Greer cried as the locomotive bore down on the Chesapeake . “Do it now, Oscar, now!”

The Lord Baltimore hurtled toward Kearneysville station at almost seventy miles per hour. Greer had known they were hot on the raiders’s trail, but he hadn’t counted on finding the Chesapeake stopped dead ahead as they rushed around a bend in the tracks.

Schmidt swore in German. He and Greer had seen the Chesapeake in the same instant. Less experienced men might have panicked, but Schmidt’s body reacted purely on instinct. He threw the engine into neutral, then reversed the gears.

For a few sickening moments, it looked as if Schmidt still hadn’t reacted in time. The massive engine gave no sign of stopping, but slid relentlessly toward the rear cars of the Chesapeake , like a sledgehammer bearing down on a spike. Greer held his breath. The Rebels had thrown some ties across the rails and he was sure the Lord Baltimore would scatter the piled ties like so many matchsticks and ram the boxcar.

The driving wheels spun wildly, fighting the weight and inertia of the speeding train. Then the engine began to slow amid the scream of iron on iron. A great geyser of steam shot up. As the wheels gained traction, the locomotive slowed and crept to a halt with its huge “cow catcher” just short of the hastily erected barricade.

Greer let his breath out.

Then the shooting began.

“Let them have it, boys!” Percy shouted as he pulled the trigger and the Colt jumped in his hand.

He could see that the tender was swarming with blue-coated soldiers. The engine’s cab was also packed with men. There were just too many soldiers. Percy wanted to keep them pinned down. If the Yankees rushed the train, Percy knew his handful of raiders would be overwhelmed.

The first shots from Percy’s men struck two soldiers, who fell into the brown grass beside the tracks and sprawled there, unmoving. The rest took shelter inside the iron-sided tender and started to shoot back.

The raiders were outnumbered, but their revolvers enabled them to fire nearly forty shots within the space of a minute. The Yankees, armed with muzzle-loading Springfield rifles, returned fire at a much slower rate.