Seven Out of Hell Read Online Free Page B

crazy,” Beth said.
    Edge spat on to a tie. “Thirsty,” he corrected. “He ran out of whiskey.”
    “That’s no reason,” the woman responded angrily as Rose staggered out of the bank and waved cheerfully towards the trio before entering the saloon.
    The train came to a grinding halt, the big cow-catcher at the front of the locomotive nudging the dead roan mare.
    “Dry town’s no use to a man like him,” Edge said, and started along the side of the locomotive, noisy with pent-up power.
    “What’s going on here?” the engineer shouted, his sweating face purple with anger. “Who put that animal on the track?”
    Edge halted and stared up at the footplate, narrowing his eyes and curling back his lips. “I heard you didn’t figure to stop at Big Valley.”
    “Damn right,” the engineer shot back. “You coulda killed people.”
    Edge shifted the Winchester from his shoulder and held it across the front of his body, the gesture just short of a threat. “I ain’t lost the chance,” he said easily.
    “Hey, Lou, the whole town’s on fire!” the crewman yelled excitedly.
    As the two men stared around them, seeing smoke and flames billowing from the buildings on three sides of the plaza, Edge moved casually away, along the side of the train. Beth walked sedately behind him as Alvin struggled to keep up, panting from the strain of carrying the baggage.
    Cursing, half in anger and half in tear, the crewmen leapt down from the footplate and struggled to haul the dead horse off the track, A broad spectrum of expressions showed upon the faces of the passengers as they looked out through the car windows on to the trio seeking seats. They ranged from irritation at the delay of the unscheduled halt, through curiosity and indifference to a series of broad grins. These last decorated the round, sallow faces of about a dozen Chinese who occupied a car in the centre of the line.
    “Bye, folks!” Rose yelled from the front of the train as he came out of the depot amid a cloud of smoke. “Have yourselves a good trip.”
    “Utterly mad,” Beth muttered as Edge stepped up on to the car platform.
    “As a March Hare,” Alvin agreed, glaring at Edge’s back as he was forced to set down the valises in order to help the woman up the steps.
    Flames were supplementing the heat of the sun from all four sides of the plaza now and sparks, with no wind to carry them, began to float down over the train. The breathless crewmen had to concede defeat as the dead weight of the carcass refused to shift an inch.
    “Come on,” the engineer rasped at length. “Have to try and shunt the damn thing outta the way.”
    He raced back to the footplate and climbed aboard, the fireman hard at his heels.
    Back in the centre car, Edge lowered himself on to an aisle seat beside one grinning Chinese and facing two more. Alvin and Beth had to go to the far end of the car to locate two seats together. The train strained, jerked, rattled and inched forward. The dead horse was pushed along on the track for a few feet, then canted to the side and rolled clear. The train picked up speed and the passengers stared out in amazement at the raging flames which had now taken a strong grip on the tinder dry buildings.
    “Big Valley a good town to be leaving, sir.”
    Edge looked at the man sitting directly opposite him. Like all the other Chinese positioned throughout the car, he was in his mid-twenties, small of stature, with a smooth, clean-shaven face and blank eyes untouched by his smile. Also in common with his fellow countrymen, he wore a straw coolie hat and a loose-fitting, ankle-length robe the color of a thundercloud with capacious sleeves concealing his hands on his lap.
    “I think things get too hot for the gentleman,” the man beside Edge said.
    Laughter rattled in the throat of the third Oriental. Edge remained impassive.
    “Look, Miss Gertrude!” a man exclaimed in the seat behind Edge, pointing a trembling finger across the plaza.