The maintenance engine was small, ugly, and built like a metal coffin.
Elias loved it immediately.
They found it beneath a wooden shed beside the abandoned quarry.
The boiler still held pressure from workers who had fled when Daniel approached earlier that day.
Elias climbed into the cab.
Mara stared at the machinery.
“This is a terrible horse.”
“It doesn’t bite.”
“It screams.”
“That’s personality.”
Daniel remained behind with the horses.
Before they left, Mara handed him her rifle.
“Return to the camp.”
He stared at her.
“You trust me with this?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because trust is not always given after someone deserves it.”
Daniel swallowed.
“Sometimes it is given so they have a chance to.”
Elias watched the words hit him.
Daniel nodded.
“I will bring it home.”
Mara climbed into the locomotive.
Elias opened the throttle.
The engine jerked so violently Mara nearly fell.
She caught a metal rail.
“You said you knew how!”
“I said a little!”
The locomotive crawled forward.
Then faster.
Steam screamed.
The wheels hammered over the rails.
They plunged into Coldwater Cut as sunset burned behind the mountains.
For nearly three hours, they raced east.
Night swallowed the desert.
The railway became a silver line in moonlight.
Brennan’s lights appeared near eleven.
Then Elias saw a lantern ahead.
Red.
He swore.
“What?”
“Track switch.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning somebody expects us.”
A freight wagon had been pushed across the rail.
Mara grabbed the cab wall.
“Can we stop?”
“Not in time.”
“Then what?”
Elias pulled the brake lever.
Metal screamed.
Sparks burst from the wheels.
The locomotive shuddered.
Too fast.
“Jump!”
They leapt.
Elias hit gravel and rolled.
Pain exploded through his shoulder.
Behind them the maintenance engine struck the wagon.
Wood shattered.
Iron shrieked.
The locomotive toppled sideways in a cloud of steam.
For several seconds Elias heard nothing but ringing.
Then—
“Mara!”
No answer.
He staggered upright.
“Mara!”
A shadow moved near the ditch.
“I am here.”
He reached her.
Blood marked her temple, but she was standing.
“You hurt?”
“Ask me tomorrow.”
Hoofbeats sounded.
Three riders emerged from the darkness.
Rourke had waited.
Elias drew.
Gunfire erupted.
He and Mara dove behind the wrecked wagon.
Bullets punched through wood.
“How many shots?” she asked.
“Six.”
“You have six?”
“Five.”
“Why five?”
“I shot a snake yesterday.”
She stared at him.
“You never told me.”
“You were asleep.”
Another shot struck the wagon.
Mara grabbed a broken piece of wood.
“What are you doing?”
“Being useful.”
“This isn’t a knife fight.”
“No.”
She pointed toward a lantern hanging from the overturned locomotive.
Oil spilled beneath it.
Elias understood.
“You are frightening.”
“Thank you.”
He fired twice toward the riders.
They scattered.
Mara threw the wood.
The lantern fell.
Flames rushed across the spilled oil.
The horses panicked.
One rider fled.
Another was thrown.
Rourke jumped from his saddle.
He came toward them on foot.
“Mercer!”
Elias emerged.
“You’re persistent, Silas.”
“Give me the satchel.”
“No.”
Rourke raised his revolver.
Mara appeared beside Elias.
Rourke laughed.
“You two really became partners.”
Mara said, “He is still being evaluated.”
Even then, Elias smiled.
Rourke did not.
“Last chance.”
Elias slowly removed the satchel.
He held it out.
Mara turned toward him.
“Elias.”
“Trust me.”
Rourke approached.
Elias tossed the bag.
It landed between them.
Rourke bent.
Elias kicked the revolver from his hand.
Rourke lunged.
They crashed into the dirt.
Rourke was bigger.
Stronger.
Elias was angrier.
Neither advantage proved decisive.
Rourke struck his injured ribs.
Elias lost his breath.
Rourke reached for the gun.
Mara stepped between them.
Her boot came down on the weapon.
Rourke froze.
She held no rifle.
No knife.
Only his gun beneath her foot.
“You planning to shoot me?” he asked.
“No.”
“Then move.”
“No.”
He stepped toward her.
Elias rose behind him.
Mara met Rourke’s stare.
“You confuse mercy with weakness.”
Sirens sounded in the distance.
Not police sirens.
Army bugles.
Riders approached from Brennan.
Rourke looked toward them.
Elias smiled.
“Judge Hollis travels with federal marshals.”
Rourke’s face emptied.
“You planned this.”
“No.”
Elias picked up the satchel.
“But I was hoping civilization might occasionally prove useful.”
Mara looked at him.
“Choose your words carefully.”
“Right.”
