Letters from Josh
(A weekly update from Josh Urban’s adventures on the farm and in the city. #115)
Howdy, folks! Previously on Dr. Electro...The good guys prepare to depart their hiding place at the warehouse. Jimmy goes to make tea, and spots a suspicious truck. They bug out in a hurry, load into the truck, and head east to hop a train. Walter is still strangely absent. Back at the warehouse, a lone footstep is heard. “Somebody forgot their tea.”
The Return of Dr. Electro - #10: All Aboard!
The truck rattled and thrummed through the night with an ominous urgency - the sound of the die cast, or the spin of a great roulette wheel. Bet it all on black. Electro tugged his applejack hat lower as he bounced along. The feeling of being watched penetrated the absolute darkness of the cargo hold. None of the men talked, save an occasional cough or oath. A ping! of a stone on the roadway below, more rattling - rougher ground - and finally, the groaning of brakes.
Rutherford’s voice was hushed as he opened the gate. “Look sharp, my lads. Jimmy says an eastbound will be here any minute. Get ready to hop the ol’ smoker!”
A mist crept up a nearby riverbank, and hung low over the tracks. Fitful moonlight tried to punch through industrial-gray clouds. It failed. A switch tower brooded trackside, guarding the gleaming ribbons of steel. Beams of red, and a single blade of green stabbed through the fog from the signal, awaiting the promised eastbound train. Preacher broke the silence.
“Alright, boys! Let’s hide. When she stops for the crew change, find a ride and hop it.”
The trackside shrubbery wasn’t gracious or hospitable, but like lukewarm coffee, it would do. A whistle echoed in the distance, and Electro’s pulse quickened. Adventure called.
The eastbound freight rolled in, easing to a stop with a grinding, squealing roar for a new crew. A boxcar’s open door yawned. BUCKLE BUNNY GANG was scrawled on the side of the car. Only Electro noticed. The men jumped in. With a hiss of air, a clang of steel, and a mournful whistle, the train was underway again. As they were passing the signal tower, the upper window lit, then went dark, and then lit again. Electro’s eyes narrowed. Watchers?
***
To the East, Lady Wilkes settled down with her evening tea and a book. She kept losing her place. Emily Dickinson just didn’t make sense tonight. Nothing had been right since the theft. Where was that nice young man...Radford or Rutherford or something? He promised help, but then vanished. She gazed out through the lace curtains. The moon peeked back, half veiled in clouds. Was that someone running across the lawn? A teacup clattered. Emily Dickinson was alone. The chair sat empty. Lady Wilkes was on the hunt.
To be continued next week...