The engine reached solid ground and Carl gave the throttle a little power, feeling the shunt forward at the same time as a sway to the side from the driving wind. Rain began to pummel down at a low angle and it was hard to keep clear of it in the cab, Amos threw more coal on the fire as directed and Carl urged his pet further off the first bridge. The tracks ahead seemed to disappear in the dense sheet of rain and he had to slow again for fear of entering the second bridge at too high a speed.

A stand of trees provided enough of a skimpy shelter as they rounded the shallow curve and Carl saw the wooden braces for the entrance to the bridge. He considered stopping and waiting to see if it let up but the gusts were so strong he worried some of the trees might crash down on the tracks or worse still, the train.

The option of stopping the train between bridges was tempting in spite of the beating the wind was giving it but Carl reasoned that if something happened to the bridges there would be no way off the mountain; even in the best of weather hiking out would be extremely dangerous. He teased the throttle and held his breath as the train rolled forward onto the second trestle.

Ryan reached the kitchen just as another blast of rain hit and a gust of wet wind tore into the kitchen as he jumped through the door. Stanley had all the oil lamps lit and seemed to be enjoying the whole thing like some kid a t a party. He grinned and shook his head at the sight of Ryan shoving the door closed.

"Ain't this something'?"

"More than I want to have anything' to do with." Deke yelled over the roar of the wind outside. "I bin on trains a long time and this is the worst I've seen."

"Five years, Deke. Don't make yerself out such an old pro." Stanley chided. Ryan dried his face on a towel and asked about the deputies. "All fed and watered as ordered, Marshal... at least they was when I left."

"Yeah. I better check again." He grabbed the counter and stumbled against Stanley as the train rocked on the tracks from another gust.

Pots and pans rattled onto the floor and Deke hurried to rescue his tools as Ryan slipped into the prison car and had a word with his men then took a peek at Devlin who was huddled in the corner with his hands between his legs, shivering.

"He okay?"

Jigger smiled and nodded. "Guess so. He ain't said nuthin' for a while."

"Just keep a good watch. This storm could cause all kinds of grief and we don't need to be frettin' about him."

"We got it covered, boss," Harlan said, dealing another hand of cards to his partner.

Ryan left, crossed back through the kitchen where Deke and Stanley were cleaning up the mess and stepped through into the dining car. The first thing he saw was Cybil Marsh leaning against a window and staring out into the blackness.

"I was just down there to make sure everybody was in their compartments. That includes the press, Miss Marsh. Did I say come on out?"

"I get paid to write stories about things like this, Marshal. It's what I do." She stood up and faced his angry glare.

"And I get paid to see everyone on this train reaches Judgement safe and sound so just get your pretty- your notebook back to your compartment." He took her elbow and turned her around, guiding her quickly down the car.

Carl felt the engine come out of the protection of the trees and as it rolled onto the bridge a bolt of lightening lit the scene exposing the shattered supports on one side of the structure.

"Oh my God!"

"What!" Amos stood and peered over Carl's shoulder.

"The storm has ripped part of the bridge support away."

"We gotta go back!"

The engine was nearing the middle and while he had lessened the speed they had gone too far to stop and reverse. "No can do, Amos. If we stop and try to reverse the vibration could- well we just can't do it. We gotta keep goin'." The bridge gave a frightening shriek and leaned precariously to one side. The engine skidded on the wet rails and Carl fought the throttle and the brake with surgical precision, keeping the forward momentum as stable as possible.

More wind and lightening cracked and crashed about them and both men were getting soaked to the skin. Along with the driving rain broken branches and leaves flew horizontally through the air, slamming hard against the train with frightening cracks. Amos signed the cross on his chest and squeezed his shovel tight.

Half way down the lounge the train reeled again and Cybil lost her balance falling with Ryan behind one of the tables. The accident proved not only awkward but also embarrassing as Cybil's skirt caught beneath his knee and tore open to the hip. Ryan struggled to stand, pulling her after him and they both looked at the exposed, colourful knickers that she wore underneath.

"You ah- you okay?" Ryan turned away but it was an obvious move and Cybil actually laughed at him.

"Guess my secret is out, eh Marshal? Cybil Marsh secretly loves bright knickers. Quite a headline, eh?"

"Only if you write it I suppose." He took her arm and slid open the platform door. "Wait here. I'll cross and open the other door then you give me your hand and I'll haul you across. This is exactly why I wanted you all in your rooms."

"I'd prefer to be helped than hauled, Marshal." She teased, holding her skirt together with her free hand.

"And I'd prefer to have passengers that do as they're told."

The train crawled over the shifting bridge at an agonizing pace. A section of wooden support tore loose and crashed down on the engine sending Amos into a chattering panic. Carl gave him a swipe with his glove and yelled an obscenity that blew away in the wind. The bridge swayed again and the engine scraped against the side supports, tearing away yet another piece.

"We're done, Carl. We'll never make it!"

"Take a look you idiot, we're almost across."

"That's just the engine, Carl! The rest of the train is still out there!"

"We'll make it." He said doggedly. His vision allowed for only a few yards ahead of the engine but he could make out the rocks along the edge of the track and he knew the engine was gaining solid ground once again. This was Carl's world and he was going to prove it.

James Howden heard Ryan and Cybil in the corridor and opened his door to see what was wrong.

"Just seein' Miss Marsh safely to her room. You alright in there?" Howden nodded, casting a suspicious eye over Cybil's dress then framing his mouth for a comment. "Okay then, just stay put. I'm checkin' on everybody." He pulled Cybil down the corridor and closed her door after she entered, testing the lock and satisfied himself she was in to stay.

Peter Soughton was curled up in his bunk with a pillow clutched to his chest. Ryan closed the door and leaned over him.

"You okay, doc?"

"No. Storms terrify me. I could sure use some of Miss Hatchers laudanum now."

"You'll be fine just stay here and take it easy. We might need your services the way this thing is bangin' about. Your back okay now?"

"It's tender but that's not my problem now." He glanced at the blackness beyond his window. "I won't be much help I'm afraid."

"If the time comes you'll do fine." He watched Peter draw his knees up to his chest.

Instead of going into their own cars, Judge Tumbler and Abner Wentworth stayed together in the Judge's compartment. The two men sat side by side on the bunk and passed a bottle of bourbon back and forth as they silently stared out the rain-marbled window into the impenetrable storm. When the knock came at the door neither man moved, they just redirected their attention and waited.

"Judge! You in there?" Ryan tried the door and found it open. "Oh, both of you together. Okay. I'm just doin' a check on everybody. Found Miss Marsh in the dining car," he complained. "Some folks just can't follow orders."

"We ain't movin', son," the Judge allowed, waving the half-empty bottle. "Nearly spilled this with that last blow."

"Better cut back on that fellas in case we need help with anything."

"Don't fret about us, Marshal," Abner chimed in. "You need us, we'll be there." They waved him out and returned to their vigil out the window.

Ryan was about to knock on the Dingwall's door when the train gave a sudden mighty lurch and jerked to a halt. He lost his balance, reaching forward for support and fell forward down the corridor, banging his head on the wall on the way down. The night seemed to come through the glass and envelop him in a murky cloak.