Free Spirit by J. P. Hightman Page A

“We have too much blood in here…. Help me…Help me…”
    Unable to trace the sound, Tess yelled in desperation, “DOES ANYONE KNOW THE NEAREST HOUSE?”
    There was no immediate answer, and Tess wandered toward another train car ahead, to be confronted by its horrors. At first in the shifting light of the snowfall, she could make out only arms and legs through the window, and she couldn’t make sense of what she was seeing…then amid the moving flesh she saw a man clawing his way over the pile of bodies, pulling himself out through a smashed window.
    Tess felt her heart shudder—the man had no legs; they were shorn off below the knee, but they were not bloody, as though burned off, cauterized. He crawled up, automatic, inhuman, clambering over people—
    Tess watched in shock as the legless man emerged—reaching out his hand to her, desperate.
    She couldn’t move. He pulled himself out, his ragged legs thrashing, as he tumbled atop her onto the snowy ground.
    He was pressing her down into the cold. He writhed, grunting, a mass of flesh and fear. She struggled, but he was heavy, and seemed to have no sense of what he was doing. His whole body was shuddering uncontrollably, and she felt as if she had hold of an immense fish that was losing strength with every moment in the air. The motion of her hand brushed past his severed limb, and then she grasped snow, trying to pull herself away. She thought she might be covered in his blood, but there was no blood. And then suddenly the bottom of his legs were there now—where jagged, useless stumps were a minute ago. Tess stared at him in horror. He couldn’t seem to believe it himself,his eyes stretched wide. She couldn’t speak. He collapsed in the snow.
    She untangled herself and pulled free of him. She was in shock, she told herself, and shock leads to hysterical visions. Calm, now. Calm. Calm.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    I nside the first ruined train car, Tobias was trying to find his seat. He sidestepped Sattler, who was helping several people out. Tobias raised his voice. “Those of you in here, listen. If you’re able-bodied”—he looked doubtfully at old Gil—“then help other people to get out. There may be a risk of fire now. We have one simple mission: survive until help comes. We can do that, can’t we?”
    Sattler was helping Annette. “Get my satchel over there,” he told her. “We might need those things.”
    Sattler’s concern for his bag caused Tobias to worry for his own beloved cello. As soon as the passengers were cleared out, he’d have to search for the instrument cases amid all the tossed-about baggage.
    In the meantime, Tobias ran his hand along the jagged metal and shards of glass that were stuck in his seat, all of which had narrowly missed him. It looked as if something had shielded him from the blows, and the debris had rained off in all directions around him. Remarkable, he thought. So it wasn’t Tess alone that had been helped to survive. But why ? His mind stayed on this puzzle, until he finally realized the need around him, jostled byMichael and Ned, who were assisting people off the train.
    Both had dazed expressions seeming to ask for guidance. “We need more help,” Tobias said. “Is there telephone service somewhere out here? Blackthorne boasts how modern it is; it seems possible…”
    Gil looked at Sattler. “Didn’t a doctor move back in the woods near here? He wanted them to bring the telephone lines along to his house, didn’t he?”
    â€œI’m not sure. I’ve been away at Harvard,” said Sattler. “I don’t know the area well…”
    â€œWe should start asking people,” said Tobias.
    â€œI’ll see to that.”
    Gil stopped Sattler. “We should also start some fires for warmth. Have all these boys go and help whoever they can, get blankets, and so