Terror at Glasgow Station: Chapter 7: "You've Got to Stop the Train!"

Aboard the Empire Builder, a bundle in the corner of the baggage car started wriggling.  A bulge moved up the side of it—then, a gloved hand suddenly stuck out on top.  It caught the edge of the packing blanket and pulled down—down, until a hooded parka was barely visible above the edge.  Then, another hand popped out, the blanket was shoved down, and Marilyn Dawson fell to the floor of the coach.

She gasped for breath, relieved at having made her escape from the station.  Then, she glanced at her watch. 

9:02!

Tensely, she waited in the darkness, breathing heavily.  What had Ed said earlier that day about number 77?  Starts up fine, but shuts straight down again after more than ten minutes.

Well, she wasn’t going to wait ten minutes, but she might as well wait a few.  She didn’t know exactly where her father’s train was, and she doubted that a diesel switcher would move as fast as the streamlined express.  However, if the Empire Builder  stopped too soon, Kane and his men would reach the train and figure out something was wrong.  She had to wait a few minutes…but how much time did she have?

Marilyn decided to give it seven minutes.  By the time three ticked past, she’d changed that to six.  When four minutes and forty-five seconds had elapsed, she decided she wasn’t waiting any longer.  She dodged her way through trunks and baggage until she found the front end of the car.  Swinging open the door, she stepped out into the cold air.

Ahead of her was the nose of 408C, thundering backwards through the driving winter snow.  In the dim light, it was difficult to see, but there were metal handholds on the engine, leading to the door.  Marilyn was relieved that she’d remembered to wear gloves—the stiff metal would be cold as ice on a night like this.  She swung her way along the train until she found the door.  Gripping the knob firmly with both hands, she put all her weight into—

The knob jerked down.  Marilyn let go of it with her left hand, gripping instead the bar next to the door.  With her right, she gave a ferocious tug.  The engine door swung open, just as a lurch by the train threatened to pitch her out into the snow.  The Empire Builder was picking up speed now—it must have been nearing eighty.  Quickly, Marilyn forced her way inside.

Staring up into the cab, she glanced warily from side to side.  This was the unused cab, positioned so that the consist could be put on another train without having to be turned around.  There was something haunting about the unattended controls in the fast-moving train…

Marilyn didn’t stop to think about that.  She turned away and darted into the bowels of the engine itself.  Narrow corridors ran the length of the engine, one on either side, past the powerful, humming diesel engines.

The vibrations made Marilyn feel as if her head might explode.  Had she been able to see better, she would have seen large warning notices—Danger: 600 Volts.  600 Volts doesn’t seem so dangerous, though, when compared to 20+ tons travelling at a high rate of speed straight towards you on the same track.  She had to hurry!

Fighting her way along the length of the train, Marilyn finally came to the backdoor.  When she let herself out, the air felt ten degrees colder than it had a moment ago—the interior of the engine was pretty warm.  Marilyn was only outside for a moment, though, before she was pushing her way forward, into the B unit.

This part of the train was all motors.  The corridors ran the length of the engine—no cab was to be found on either side.  Like 408C, 408B had an inordinate amount of sawdust scattered on the floor.  That would have been slippery enough in itself, but combined with the oil, getting over the metal floors was a real task.  Marilyn fell twice as she pushed her way through the engine, steadying herself on the left wall of the train for balance.

When she finally made it through, she plunged outside and paused, gasping for breath.  The vibrations were getting to her.  Two down, one to go, she thought to herself.  And if I’m too late, there’ll be no second chance…

She pulled open the door and darted into 408-A!

The roar of the motors was deafening.  Loud enough at the side of the tracks, inside the engine it threatened to rupture an eardrum.  Marilyn shouted ahead to the engineer and fireman, but her voice was lost in the noise.  She’d have to fight her way through once again!

Gritting her teeth, Marilyn worked her way around to the right side of the train and started alongside the motor.  The vibrations roared in her ears, and the great engine rocked from side to side as it found every bump in the line.  Railroad builders can only make the tracks so flat.  She called ahead twice more, but both times her voice went unheeded.  If the crew ahead even heard anything, it was only a squeak.

Thus, the crewmen didn’t notice her plunge into the cab.  “Stop the train!” she shouted.  What she did was very nearly stop the engineer’s heart.  He swiveled in his black leather chair, shocked at hearing a voice.

“What?  How the heck did you get in here?” he asked.  “Passengers don’t have permission to be—”

The fireman was staring at her.  “Hey, Lenny, that’s Jim Dawson’s daughter!  I’ve seen her before, a couple times.  She comes down to the station a lot to wait for her father.”

“You’ve got to stop the train, believe me!” shrieked Marilyn.  “A pack of gangsters came and held us hostage.  They want to wreck this train so they can kill somebody aboard—a gangster named Edgar Malone.  My father’s freight train is coming straight towards you on this track, and they’ve given it a green signal!”

“Lenny, we can count on her,” the fireman said.  “Jim’s kids would know better than to play pranks like that!”

Lenny eased off the throttle and quickly applied the brakes.

With a screeching, the passenger train slowly began to come to a halt.  It took a long time.  Several tons of metal travelling over seventy miles an hour doesn’t stop on a dime, particularly not on icy rails.  In fact, the train travelled over a mile before it fully came to a stop.  But stop it did, and when it did, it did so without running into a certain steam engine that was coming that way.

Lenny took a few deep breaths, then glanced at the fireman.  “Fire off the torpedoes,” he said.  “We’ve got to warn Dawson we’re on the line.”

The fireman pulled a lever, and the torpedoes fired.  These weren’t submarine torpedoes—you’d probably call them flares.  They burned brightly in the night, marking the trouble on the line behind.  A train coming straight for them wouldn’t be able to miss them.

Only, the Empire Builder had come to a stop on a curve.  The torpedoes had landed right at the beginning of the bend, and Marilyn had no idea how far their light would go.  Plus, Jim Dawson’s freight wouldn’t be able to stop quickly, either.  Even if only one of the trains was going at full speed, that would be enough to kill.

Marilyn turned to the engineer.  “You’d better go warn the passengers,” she said.  “There are four gangsters following this train in a diesel switcher pulling a caboose.  The switcher’s probably broken down by now—it was out of order—but it might not.  All four men will be dangerous.  Also, Edgar Malone’s aboard—”

“The gangster?” sputtered the fireman.  “I’ve heard of him.”

Lenny jerked his head backwards.  “There’s a couple FBI agents on board,” he said.  “We’ll go find them and tell them what’s up.”

“Before you go,” said Marilyn, “do either of you have a match?”  She grabbed a red lantern from the back of the cab.

The fireman pulled a book out of his pocket and tossed it to her.  “What do you need it for?” he asked.

Marilyn was already opening the door and climbing out of the train.  “Those flares won’t carry very far!” she yelled.  “I’ve got to signal Dad to stop!”

“Hey, wait a second!” shouted the engineer.  “It’s freezing out there, and it’s snowing!  You’ll get lost!  Better let someone else—”

The fireman put a hand on its shoulder.  “It’s her father, Lenny,” he said.  “Besides, if that’s Jim Dawson’s daughter, she can take care of herself.  Come on.  We’d better see what we can do about our pursuers.”

Quickly, the crewmen darted through the engines, in search of the G-Men.