Living History by Ben Essex (best motivational books of all time .txt) 📕

At some point, I’d get off the train and continue on my way.

Betraying everybody equally-the one thing Benjamin Franklin certainly wouldn’t have done.

It was a simple plan.

As far as I was aware.

White and I waited together at Louisian Saint Train Station. I don’t know where the “Saint,” part comes from. It’s just there.

I checked my watch. Eleven O’clock.

It was dark and cold. The moon was heavy, pouring silver down on the wooden platform and its little snake of rusty tracks. There were a couple of other passengers nearby, cradling luggage-they weren’t with us. White’s people were already aboard, waiting. White himself was carrying a suitcase, presumably to help him blend in.

I checked my watch again. The time was still the same.

White cleared his throat. ‘You know,’ he said, ‘I really do find this whole business distasteful.’

‘I’m sure.’

A thunderous roar grew in the night; metal screeching and scratching. Twin lights in the distance, getting rapidly closer. A great steel snake pulling into view, all black and blue and green. It was made up to look as much like an old-fashioned steam train as possible.

The engine hissed, the train stopped. Doors cracked open, and conductors waited patiently to be shown tickets.

White looked at me. ‘All aboard,’ he said.

The train’s interior was rickety. The walls rattled, and the windows let cold air in. Everything did it’s best to give the impression of being made from mahogany and padded leather. The train tried for baroque, and ended up looking antique.

Carriage after carriage split into isle after isle of uncomfortable, shell-like seat. The back half of the train was filled with private cabins-theoretically for the richer crowd. Since the train was mostly empty, White and I helped ourselves to one such cabin.

We slid the door shut and sat. The train lurched on.

‘I didn’t see many of your people about,’ I said to White.

‘They’re mostly hidden in the front and back carriages,’ he replied.

‘And the driver’s seat?’

White nodded. Reaching into his pockets, he extracted what seemed to be a small sandwich. I watched with mild disgust as he greedily (not to mention messily) tucked in.

‘It’s going to be a long journey.’ White said defensively, off my expression. ‘Would you like some?’ He offered a morsel.

‘…No. Thank you.’ I stood. ‘I think I’m going to try and find the bathroom.’

‘Suit yourself,’ White shrugged.

I made my way to the front of the train, occasionally stumbling as the whole thing juddered. Landscape raced by the windows, shrouded in darkness.

I wasn’t looking for a bathroom. I headed straight for the front of the train, the cockpit-the driver’s den. On the way, I did pass an increasing number of individuals I recognised from Daniel’s hideout.

Every door on the train was unlocked-locks out of service, I guess-and there in the driver’s seat, I found Daniel himself.

The cockpit was small and cramped with consoles. There were levers, knobs and blinking lights everywhere. Daniel sat buried by the lights, occasionally pressing things. An unconscious man lay beside him, tied up half-naked on the floor. Daniel was wearing an ill-fitting train-conductor’s uniform.

‘Hello, Mr. Franklin,’ he greeted me cheerfully.

‘Daniel,’ I raised a brow. ‘I didn’t know you could drive a train.’

‘I can’t, but the computer can.’ Daniel said. ‘Mr. White said he’d feel better with one of us in the pilot’s chair. I can always shake the driver awake in a real emergency.’

Unless that emergency is coming towards you at several hundred miles an hour and you don’t notice until there’s nothing to be done about it…

‘Yes, well,’ I smiled thinly. ‘Carry on.’

With a grinding din, the train slowed to a temporary halt. Stop one, I supposed. That was fast.

‘Don’t worry, Mr. Franklin,’ Daniel said. ‘I can handle things up here.’

I took that as a polite dismissal, and worked my way out of the cockpit just as the train began to move again.

Abraham Lincoln was sitting in a seat.

He was surrounded by ordinary-looking people with ordinary-looking expressions wearing ordinary-looking clothes. In fact these people seemed so ordinary that I knew they just had to be cops.

Lincoln was reading a book, apparently engrossed. He didn’t see me. I darted past as quickly as possible, keeping my head firmly down. A couple of those ordinary folks tossed me glances, but they didn’t say anything. Presumably they wanted to maintain the pretext of disguise.

‘Lincoln’s here,’ I said to White, as soon as I found our cabin. ‘Now.’

‘Hmm?’ White looked up.

‘Lincoln’s here.’

‘Oh.’ White checked his watch. ‘That is rather ahead of schedule.’

‘Aren’t you going to do something?’ I demanded. White was altogether too calm.

‘No.’

‘No?!’

White’s expression became one of strained tolerance. ‘If they came aboard ahead of schedule, it implies a change to their plan-a change you weren’t told about.’ White crossed his arms. ‘Apparently their trust in you isn’t complete.’

‘Something unforeseen must’ve happened.’

‘Or they are simply being prudent. There’s really no way for me to know, and I certainly don’t want to act without a better idea of the situation.’ White bit his lip, thinking. ‘They haven’t come for me yet, so they’re being just as cautious as I.’

‘We should try to take them now,’ I said, firmly. White just stared.

‘Go and talk to them,’ he said. ‘Find out what you can and report back here.’

I bristled. ‘You’re giving me orders now?’

‘I have been for some time. You’ve only just noticed that they weren’t suggestions.’

I couldn’t think of any witty retorts. ‘I’ll find out what the problem is,’ I mumbled instead, leaving the cabin.

A sonic boom struck through the train as it hit a tunnel. Darkness followed greater darkness, and emerged on the other side as moonlight.

I reached Lincoln’s seat. A dozen undercover cops fried me with their collective gaze.

Lincoln looked up. ‘Hello, Ben.’

‘You’re early,’ I said, trying to sound more surprised than accusational.

Lincoln shrugged. ‘Didn’t see the point in waiting.’

‘Apparently you do,’ I countered. ‘Since you’re just sitting here.’

A spark of annoyance lit Lincoln’s eyes; the smallest hint of Natalia’s Russian fire. I couldn’t help noticing the way he sat cross legged in his chair… just a tad feminine.

‘Maybe I wouldn’t be,’ he said. ‘If you hadn’t misinformed me.’

I looked as blank as possible. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘You said White would bring only a handful of men.’

‘I said roughly a handful.’

‘You failed to mention,’ Lincoln twitched, ‘the four or five dozen of his followers hidden at the front and back of this train.’

I adopted a dumbfounded expression. ‘That’s impossible,’ I said. ‘I saw him get aboard myself. He had only his private guards-I told you, he wants to make this quiet.’

‘Clearly he changed his mind,’ Lincoln said flatly. ‘And I don’t want to risk a fire fight with what appear to be horribly equal numbers.’

‘So what’re you going to do?’ I demanded. ‘Sit here and wait for him to die of natural causes?’

‘Obviously not,’ Lincoln snapped. ‘I have reinforcements waiting on the other side of the border. All I have to do is let this train reach its third stop.’

‘White knows you’re aboard. What if he strikes first?’

Natalia/Lincoln began fiddling with his/her top-hat. ‘Blood spills.’

‘All right,’ I nodded, starting to walk away. Absently, Lincoln gestured to one of the policemen. Burly hands restrained me.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’

‘Back to White,’ I protested. ‘To try and make sure blood isn’t spilled.’

‘You know, Ben,’ Lincoln said, ‘I’m really not sure why I should continue trusting you.’

‘Nata-‘ I caught my tongue. ‘I mean, please. I didn’t know about this, I swear. If I’m missing for too long, White’s going to realise something is up.’

‘All right.’ Lincoln reluctantly released me. I started to slink away.

‘That isn’t the way you came,’ one of the policemen observed.

‘I need to use the bathroom first,’ I shot back, quickly darting out of sight.

Once again, I chose the cockpit over the toilet.

‘Daniel!’ I hissed, slamming the door shut behind me. ‘Daniel!’

Daniel looked around, surprised by my urgency. ‘Yes sir, Mr. Franklin?’

‘Wake that driver up. You’re going to need to ask for his help. And by ask, I mean demand.’

*

I returned to White via Lincoln’s cold gaze.

‘Well?’ White asked.

‘They’re scared to move,’ I replied. ‘They see your extra forces.’

‘I thought so,’ White bit a lip. ‘Stalemate.’

‘I think you should attack now,’ I pressed. ‘It’s the best chance you’re going to get.’

White considered. ‘Maybe you’re right,’ he said. ‘But-‘

Suddenly, the entire train jerked. A metallic clang exploded in the air-the sound of snapping metal. The floor jumped, and for an instant everything felt lighter.

‘What the hell was that?’ I demanded.

White cocked his ears. ‘It came from the back of the train.’

We both bolted from the cabin, to the end of the carriage. There we found an open door, flapping in the breeze. And far, far away-lying still on the tracks-was the back of the train.

‘The rear carriages,’ White said, unnecessarily. ‘Somebody’s cut the rear carriages.’

In the distance we could see a handful of shadows slipping out onto the tracks, angrily gesturing at the train to come back.

‘Over half my men…’ White muttered.

I looked down, at what was now the end of our train. Scorch marks were strewn all over the hull-particularly at the joints which had once held the two carriages together.

‘These are Gauntlet marks,’ I said grimly. ‘Lincoln’s people did this.’

‘Then they’ll be heading for the front of the train,’ White said. ‘To get rid of the rest of my men.’

He started to rush off, presumably with mind to intercept. I held him back.

‘Can’t go that way.’

‘Why not?’

‘Lincoln’s people will be all over the inside of the train. Now they’ve got us flanked, they’re probably moving to find you.’

White paused. I could see the cogs turning as he calculated strategies… I got there first.

‘We can go around the outside,’ I said.

White raised a brow. ‘Wouldn’t that be extremely dangerous?’

‘So’s staying here.’

White took the point.

We pushed aside the flapping door.

Wind immediately lashed against us; the unstoppably hands of nature, slapping us around. Against the gale-level buffeting we crawled out onto the train’s exterior.

Fortunately, the hull was relatively climber friendly. Ribs, fins and flanges lined the hips of the beast-it was just about possible to clamber along. I gave a silent prayer of thanks to whoever decided that this thing ought to look like a steam-train.

My fingers felt in danger of freezing off. Everything was cold, in the most biting way possible. The dark made it hard to see more than centimetres ahead, and but for the streaks of starlight we would have been blind.

‘We need to go faster!’ White yelled. Easy for you to say, I thought. Your body’s flat_._ My belly was doing its best to overbalance me. I fought to hold on.

Don’t look down. Don’t look down. I could feel the thumping of the tracks.

The side of the train was getting smoother and smoother-soon there’d be no place left to hold on. The only way to go was-

‘Up!’ I yelled, wind stealing away half of my volume. Desperately clambering toward the top of the train, I came close to a window. Peering into the passenger compartment, I noticed about ten of Lincoln’s cops sweeping their way through the train’s interior. I was right. They were locking the place down.

I scrambled up with greater speed. The train’s narrow roof beckoned me, boasting of safety…

The roof lied. The moment I reached it, I