CHAPTER 17
At four o’clock in the morning, Grand Central Station had the feeling of an archeological dig site excavating an ancient lost city: vast, majestic, for the most part deserted and deathly quiet, and yet in a remote corner of the site where something exciting had just been unearthed, everything was abuzz with voices echoing orders and workers running about like ants in a nest.
Such was the case on the platform that housed The Millennium Express .
From across the cavernous, empty main concourse of the station, Mamma, Bugsy, Stella and I watched shadows running back and forth on the distant platform. We heard the shouts and commands in German, and the chuff of a train getting ready to embark on its journey.
In front of us were two baggage trolleys, a large crate on each.
I looked at my parents, both of whom were dressed in the uniforms of train baggage handlers, my mother’s hair tucked under her porter’s hat. I didn’t ask them where they got the uniforms from; quite frankly, I didn’t want to know. All I knew was that Harry was somewhere on board that train, and I needed to find him .
“So, kiddo, you ready?” asked Bugsy.
I took a deep breath. “As I’ll ever be… I guess. How about you, Stella?”
Stella put up her dukes. “I’m ready to kick some Nazi ass. Or if they’re too tall for me to reach, I’ll at least sock ’em in the balls. Either way, let me at ’em.”
Quite unexpectedly, Bugsy gave me an awkward hug and Mamma kissed me on the cheek.
“Good luck, you two,” she said. “We’ll try to follow you, but who knows where that train is headed.”
Bugsy pried open the lid of the crates with a crowbar.
I lifted Stella into the crate on the trolley that Mamma was about to push.
I climbed into the one on Bugsy’s trolley, glancing at the shotgun that was already inside. “For protection,” Bugsy had insisted. He’d also made sure I filled my pockets with enough ammunition to sink me to the bottom of the sea.
Once I was in, Bugsy handed me the crowbar then replaced the lids on the crates, using a hammer to seal us inside.
With a heave, Mamma and Bugsy pushed the trolleys toward the platform.
The sound of German orders and the busy shuffling of boots grew louder, as did the low thrum of the train getting ready to depart, until the ominous thrum of it was right beside us.
We came to a halt, and I heard Bugsy say to someone, “Late delivery. Herr Bockenheimer insisted these be added to the cargo immediately.”
He must have sounded convincing, because before I knew it, I heard several men grunting as they picked up the crate I was in and slid it onto the train. I heard Stella’s crate being loaded beside mine, followed by the sliding and slamming of the train’s cargo-hold door.
In the next moment, the train whistle screamed.
The train lurched into motion.
And slowly but surely—without the crowds or fanfare that Howard Hart had planned— The Millennium Express launched itself into the history books.
From inside, I used the crowbar to prise the lid off my crate. I peered outside to make sure there were no guards around. The rocking car was empty but for crates everywhere.
I climbed out of mine, then levered the lid off Stella’s.
She was frantically gasping for air. “Oh my God, I thought I was gonna suffocate in there! Is that what it feels like to be buried in a coffin? Oh God, don’t ever put me in a coffin, Buck. Cremate me, put me on a Viking ship and push me out to sea, feed me to the goddamn vultures if you like. Just please don’t bury me when I’m dead, otherwise I’ll have a panic attack and die!”
“Pull yourself together, would ya?” I yanked her out of the crate and put her down. “We need to figure out how to get to Harry.”
I pulled the shotgun out of my crate then scanned the carriage. It was made not of wood, but solid iron, each panel and beam thick and sturdy. In the middle of the car was a steel ladder leading up to a hatch with a wheel lock on it, while along the walls were a dozen portholes. I peered out through one to see the outskirts of Wilde City passing by, the pale light of dawn casting a sleepy blue haze over the skyscrapers as they drifted farther and farther away.
“What the hell do you think is in the rest of these boxes?” Stella asked as she moved from crate to crate. “God, I hope there ain’t any people inside. They’d be dead by now, for sure.”
“I guess we’re about to find out.” I scooped up the crowbar and stepped up to the longest crate in the car.
I jammed the end of the bar under the lid and jimmied the crate open.
Carefully, I slid the lid aside, then picked Stella up and sat her on the edge of the crate so we could both see the contents .
On top was nothing but straw to cushion whatever was inside.
I pushed it aside to find myself staring at a long metallic cylinder, at least three-feet wide, and if the crate was anything to measure it by, no less than eight-feet long.
Set into the body of it was a clock with wires, only it wasn’t a normal clock.
“What is that gizmo?” Stella asked.
“I have no idea, but it looks like some sort of timer.” I pushed more straw aside to uncover the two ends of the cylinder. One end had fins and a propellor, the other end looked like a large drill, sparkling with diamonds.
Their reflection shimmered in Stella’s eyes. “Jesus, are those what I think they are?”
“Settle down, we’re on a hunt for Harry, not treasure.” I turned and saw an identical crate. “Looks like there’s two of these onboard.”
Looking around, I opened a different sized crate. Inside was a spiky black sphere. “That’s a goddamn mine.”
I opened another. “This one’s packed with TNT.”
I opened another. “This one’s full of grenades. Jesus, this place is a fireworks factory just waiting to blow sky high.”
“Maybe you should be a little careful with that rifle then,” Stella pointed out. “Shoot one of these boxes and it’ll be curtains for you, me, and everyone else on this train.”
Suddenly we heard the sound of latches moving and deadbolts sliding.
I looked to the door leading to the next car.
It was solid iron with a series of locks running down one side, not to mention a door-lock wheel in the center that began to turn as we watched.
“We got company. Quick, help me get these lids back on.”
Hastily we replaced the lids I’d pried off the crates, then I scooped Stella up, dropped her into the crate I was carried in on, and jumped in after her, pulling the lid loosely over us.
Leaving enough of a gap to peer out, I watched as the door between the carriages opened and a dozen German soldiers entered.
One of them barked orders, and four men promptly lifted one of the crates containing the rocket missile, while another four men lifted the other.
As the train pitched and swayed, the soldiers carted the two crates out through the door from which they came, leaving four of the men behind.
They were about to leave, when the soldier barking the orders noticed the lid to the crate containing the grenades slightly ajar.
At the same time, I could hear Stella begin to wheeze and panic. “Buck, I can’t breathe,” she whispered.
The German glanced around to see another lid askew.
Silently he signaled to his men, pointing at the other crates for them to search the boxes.
“Buck!” Stella panted quietly.
“Sshhh! They’ll hear you.”
The soldiers stepped closer.
Stella began to hyperventilate. “But I can’t breathe in here.”
I reached for her mouth, trying to stop the noise but she slapped my hands away.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Trying to cover your big fat mouth.”
“That ain’t gonna help! I said I couldn’t breathe. What are you trying to do, finish me off?”
I peered through the gap and saw all four of the soldiers homing in on our crate now.
Stella was in such a state she began to squawk like a dying parrot.
The Germans rushed toward our crate.
“Ah, fuck it,” I muttered .
In the next moment I threw the lid off our crate, jumped up like a fucking Jack-in-the-box, aimed the shotgun, and stopped the four Germans in their tracks.
Instantly they raised their hands in the air, all of them shouting, “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!”
“Come another step closer and I will.”
The leader pointed to the crates surrounding us. “If you shoot, you’ll hit the bombs.”
“Not if I hit you first,” I warned. “Now back up.” I nudged Stella with my foot, and she came up heaving for air. “Stella, get to the ladder, now.”
“The ladder?”
“Uh-huh. If we wanna get out of here, the quickest way is up.”
“You wanna go up? Onto the roof of a moving train? Suddenly staying inside the crate don’t seem so bad.”
“Just move it, would ya!”
As Stella hauled herself out of the crate and hurried to the ladder leading to the hatch in the ceiling, one of the Germans made a move toward me, about to snatch my rifle.
I cocked the weapon. “You think I’m afraid to use this?” I swung the shotgun toward one of the portholes, fired a bullet through the glass, then aimed it back at the Germans. “Think again.”
I reloaded so swiftly my folks woulda been proud.
The rumble of the train now competed with the whistle of air blowing in through the crack in the porthole.
A panicked look was exchanged between the soldiers.
All I cared about was me and Stella getting the hell up that ladder.
When she reached the top I lifted my legs over the edge of the crate, my weapon still trained on the Germans.
With a grunt, Stella managed to turn the wheel lock on the hatch.
I started climbing up after her, one hand on the ladder, the other still aiming the gun.
Stella grunted again as she shoved the hatch open. Wind blew wildly through the carriage, sending straw into the air as Stella clambered out through the hole.
I gave the Germans one last warning—“Stay back!”—then swiftly pulled myself up onto the roof of the fast-moving train, slamming the hatch and spinning the wheel lock, sealing it as tight as I could.
“That’s not gonna hold them for long. We need to get outta here.”
“And go where?” Stella shouted over the roar of the wind.
“Get to the front carriages. Harry’s gotta be up there somewhere.” The wheel lock started to turn. I grabbed it, trying to hold the Germans back as I yelled to Stella, “Run! Run now!”
Her heels clacking frantically, Stella raced along the roof of the train. She reached the passage between the cargo car and the next carriage, balanced her way across the roof, then continued running across the next car.
Dawn spilled over the horizon. Wilde City was far behind us now as the train raced along a set of tracks that seemed to lead all the way to the distant sea. Beside the train line was a dirt track, no doubt used as an access road for the trucks and railroad workers needed to build Hart’s railroad.
Suddenly the wheel lock started to turn with more force.
I couldn’t hold the Germans back any longer.
Letting go of the wheel, I jumped to my feet, shotgun in hand, and raced after Stella. With a glance behind me I saw the hatch on the cargo car open.
“Run, Stella! Run!”
“Whaddaya think I’m doing, the chantoozie?”
The four Germans sprang out of the hatch, one at a time, not afraid to draw their own pistols now.
I spun about, fired off a shot that missed but at least made them all drop to their knees, then reloaded and kept charging after Stella.
As the train rocked and rambled at top speed, I made the leap over the connecting passage between the two cars, regained my balance and kept running.
That’s when I glanced forward and saw that the track ahead didn’t simply veer straight toward the sea…
It ended at a cliff overlooking the water.
There was no more track once the train line reached the ocean.
Howard Hart’s vision was unfinished.
There was nowhere to go but the deep blue sea.
“What the fuck?” I whispered to myself.
Suddenly bullets were ricocheting off the roof all around me.
Behind me, the German soldiers had started firing their pistols.
I wanted to tell Stella to jump off the roof, to get out of the line of fire, but the train was moving way too fast.
I turned back to the Germans and fired off another shot.
They ducked again.
Suddenly a bullet flew past me, coming from the opposite direction—the front of the train.
I spun about again, and this time I saw the one-eyed German standing above a hatch on the roof of the carriage directly behind the engine.
Only he wasn’t alone.
In front of him stood Harry, a human shield, with one of Hammer’s arms locked around his neck.
In Hammer’s other hand was his pistol, and on his bruised and battered face was that damned evil grin of his.
He fired again, twice, one bullet aimed at me and one at Stella.
I ducked.
Stella screamed and took cover behind the wheel lock of the hatch on the middle car of the train, clinging to it for dear life.
I aimed my shotgun at Hammer, but he held Harry in front of him, making it impossible for me to get a clear shot.
From behind me, the soldiers fired more bullets that sent sparks flying off the iron roof of the train.
I was trapped.
Up ahead, the end of the line was coming up fast… and in that moment, I knew it was the end of the line for me too.
Until I heard someone yell—
“Hey assholes! You hungry? Cause I got somethin’ for ya… lead sandwiches!”
Me, Stella, Harry, Hammer, and all the Germans suddenly turned to see the black Anderson convertible come tearing up the access road alongside the speeding train.
Behind the wheel was Bugsy, driving like a lunatic, while standing up in back was Mamma, a Tommy gun in her hand and a smirk on her face.
“Mom! Pops!” I whispered, a grin spreading across my own lips.
In one moment, I saw Mamma give me a wink.
In the next, she opened fire, rattling off a barrage of bullets that sprayed the Germans behind me. The lead pierced their legs, and like falling dominoes they dropped one by one off the roof of the cargo car, screaming as they plunged from the speeding train.
Mamma then turned her Tommy gun on Hammer.
Hammer turned his pistol on her, but Harry seized his chance to elbow the German as hard as he could in the stomach.
Hammer doubled over and fired off a shot.
It missed Mamma, smashing a headlight on the car.
“Goddammit!” Bugsy yelled. “This thing just had a spit and polish!”
Harry scrambled himself free of Hammer’s grip and dropped onto the roof of the train.
I turned my shotgun on Hammer, just as Mamma aimed her Tommy gun at him .
But as we both fired, the one-eyed German leapt down the open hatch into the carriage below.
Taking his place, the eight soldiers who had carried the crates away from the cargo car suddenly sprang out of the hatch one by one, weapons blazing.
Their bullets didn’t stand a chance of hitting their targets as Mamma pumped the air with lead, the ratatatatatatatatatat of her Tommy gun sending every last soldier pitching and plummeting off the train.
As the last of them dropped from the locomotive, I raced across the roof of the train to Stella. “Are you okay?”
“I think so,” she nodded. “But you can bet your bottom dollar I won’t be booking a train trip anytime soon.”
Together we turned the wheel lock on the hatch before I helped her down the first steps of the ladder. “Get below. Hang on to something tight.”
“What for?”
I glanced at the cliff getting closer and closer. “We’re headed for a fall.”
I turned to Harry who was now running across the roof of the carriages toward me.
We charged into each other’s arms, his lips meeting mine, his hands holding my face close. “I was scared to death I’d never see you again,” he breathed.
I looked into his eyes. “You and me both.”
From the car speeding alongside us, Bugsy began blasting the horn.
Harry and I looked to see my father pointing to the cliff ahead. “Son! The train’s gonna crash! It’s headed straight for the sea! You need to jump!”
I looked to Harry then over the edge of the fast-moving locomotive. “We’ll never survive.”
Harry took my face firmly in his hand and locked eyes on me. “Buck, listen to me. This train isn’t a train at all.”
“Then what the hell is it?”
Harry gulped. “It’s a weapon.”
Bugsy kept blasting his horn. “Jump! Jump now!”
Up ahead I heard the hatch through which Hammer had disappeared slam shut, the wheel screwing tight.
From the cargo car, someone slammed that hatch tight as well.
I glanced at the track ahead, the end of the line rushing up to meet us, and beyond that the cliff overlooking the sea.
“We have to get inside now,” Harry said. “We have to get inside or we’re going to die.”
He squeezed my hand so tight there was no escaping his grip.
He pulled me down the last open hatch, into the train.
I lost my grip on the shotgun.
It clattered across the roof.
I tried to grab it, but I couldn’t reach.