DisPLACEd: The Iron Horse

Chapter Fourteen

Ryan gulped down his ladle-full of water, going back for seconds and thirds. Rain would be coming within the next few days, and the humidity was high.

"You be'er slow down. Drink too fast an' you'll be sick." Jonathan appeared at Ryan's side, reaching forward to gather the remaining ladle. He poured the first lot over his head, his shoulders relaxing from the brief reprieve from the heat.

Ryan nodded and dropped the ladle back into the water. He leaned back against the table the bucket sat on, moving aside so the other workers could still reach it. "So, how long have you been working on the railroad?"

"Joined about a year ago. The 'cry of gold in California' an' all that."

"California? So why are you here?" Ryan asked.

"Me brother went along first. After ma and pa died, I went ta follow 'im. Didn't have money for the boat. Have ta work me way there."

A black-powder explosion sent a spray of dirt into the air, dropping a clump of soil at their feet. "Surely there are better ways to earn the money?"

Jonathan chuckled. "Me brother's making a name for himself, figured I'd do the same."

Ryan nodded and pushed himself off the table. He picked up his spike maul, slinging it over his shoulder before heading back to his station.

Jonathan followed, trying to catch up under the weight of his own tool. "What about you? What made you join the railroad?"

"The usual, I guess." Ryan shrugged, not in the mood to come up with a backstory.

Jonathan huffed, frustrated his sharing wasn't reciprocated. He wanted to trust these new faces, but so far he knew little about them except for their names.

Aadita struggled to keep the water from sloshing over the edge of the bucket. She held the handle with one hand, the other on the railing. The door slammed shut behind her.

"Wh-what have you done to me?" Dodge slurred his words, staggering off the bed.

Aadita dropped the bucket on the ground. It wobbled, threatening to topple, only to right itself in moments. She stepped past it and reached out, grabbing hold of Dodge before he hit the ground. "You have to get back into bed."

Dodge tried to push her away. "No. Let go of me."

"You are sick. You need to rest."

His brow was covered in sweat - much more than the day's heat could explain. She wrapped an arm around his waist and turned him back towards the bed. His strength started to fail him, and Aadita was able to push him down. She grabbed the chloroform soaked cloth and held it under his nose. Dodge's eyelids fluttered, before finally closing.

Reb stood hip to hip with Father Ivan in the food car of the train. Connected to the worker's sleeper car, there was little space for the line of tired and dirty workers to move. Reb placed chunks of beef and bread onto the outstretched plates, leaving Father Ivan to fill their cups with pitch black coffee. A worker mumbled a 'thank you' before moving off, letting the next in line step up.

"It's called 'Manifest Destiny'. Many believe it is the God-given right for us to settle the West," Father Ivan explained.

"And by 'settle', you mean?"

"Create civilised towns with roads, schools, everything it takes a community to thrive."

Reb turned to him, ignoring the hungry pleas of the man across the counter. "What about the Indians?"

Father Ivan sighed. "I do not envy their plight. Nor do I agree with their revenge attacks."

Reb dropped the meat onto the worker's plate, keeping her eyes fixed on the man beside her. "So why don't you stop them? Stop your people taking the land, and stop the killing?"

"My dear, it is Jesus that performed miracles, not I."

It was almost dark by the time they reached the survey site where they would spend the night. Their plans had had to change, with the initial location covered in water up to their ankles. Eric had questioned them, confused how the camp he had been at only days before had flooded so quickly when there had been no rain.

"It's the start of the thaw," Jack Casement had told him.

"But the mountains are all the way over there." Eric looked at the large mounds in the distance, their white peaks visible in the waning light.

"It will be dry by the time the railroad crew passes through," Jack answered.

Eric spotted something behind Jack's apparently untroubled facade. "But what about next year? The train could lose traction or the rail could wash out."

"My job, Mr Lee, is to get it built. Whether it lasts is not my problem." Jack turned and joined his fellow soldiers.

Eric couldn't believe it. How could something so vital as the stability of the track be overlooked? He looked around at the surrounding land, promising himself he would find another way.

Despite the lack of illumination, it was clear this place was stunning. They could no longer see the trees, the wide open plain spreading from end to end, occasionally dotted with bright surveyor flags. Most of the grass had died over the harsh winter but was already springing back to life.

"As you can see, Mr Ford, this beautiful landscape will attract many admirers." Durant led him away from the rest of the group who had begun assembling their camp. "Thanks to our railroad - with, we hope, your assistance - this great land of ours will be colonised in no time."

Mr Ford nodded, refraining from voicing his thoughts. Durant watched him, trying to read his expression.

"Anyway," Durant continued, "as you have seen, though we have accomplished much, there is still work needed to do."

"Excuse me, Mr Durant," Rourke called out. He sat on the edge of one of the carts, swinging his legs.

"Yes?" Durant turned his attention from Ford.

"If the Indians are no threat to your enterprise - as I'm assuming you are trying to show us with your friend over there," he gestured to Nakos, "why are the soldiers necessary?"

Durant clasped his hands behind his back. He gave a chuckle before answering. "Mr Rourke, you are very perceptive."

"It comes with the job," Rourke smirked.

"I can assure you it is merely a precaution. We are completely safe. Nikos-"

"Nakos," Jack corrected.

"Nakos has volunteered his services. He is eager to tell of his people's ways. Tonight he will regale us with some stories, and in the morning he has offered to display his hatchet-throwing abilities." Durant smiled over at Nakos, who sat hunched by the fire. The dying light hid his emotions well, with the flickering flames showing only glimpses of his thoughts.

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