The brake van followed it around the hairpin, again on the verge of overturning… before steadying and coming out of the turn. ‘How many more of these goddamn reverses are there?’ Nina complained rhetorically. The train was drawing away from them. ‘Take off the brakes, we need to catch up.’
Zane complied. Gravity took hold again, the van regaining speed. They had lost ground on the Nazis, but she calculated that they would be able to keep pace, and she felt a small surge of hope as she saw that there was no sign of Eddie on the ground beside the line. He was still aboard the train…
He was — and fighting for his life.
Eddie struggled to break the Nazi’s grip on his neck, but the young man’s tendons felt like coiled steel. He switched tactics, driving punches at the soldier’s face with as much force as he could muster from his awkward position. The man recoiled from the first blow, and the second, spitting blood, but if anything the attacks only made him squeeze harder. Another punch, but the Englishman was weakening…
Something moved through the edge of his vision. The loose rope from the earthenware jar, swinging back and forth as the train rocked—
He grabbed it — and whipped it into a loop around the Nazi’s neck.
The man’s triumphant snarl abruptly changed to a rictus of alarm as Eddie yanked the rope tight. He released one hand to pull at it—
Eddie took full advantage, again driving his fist at the other man’s jaw — this time without the Nazi’s arm obstructing the strike.
There was a sharp crack as the soldier’s front teeth snapped. The man screamed as exposed nerves were rasped by broken enamel. He jerked back — allowing Eddie to slam a knee into his side. The soldier hit the floor.
Eddie gripped the rope with both hands and pulled as hard as he could, at the same time twisting on his side to deliver a two-footed kick. The Nazi rolled away — and out of the door. He was dragged along by the train for a moment before his neck broke with a horrible crack.
Eddie released the line. The end snapped away, then fluttered limply in the wind as the body fell beside the track.
Wheezing, he got up. He needed to find the Andreas relic — but found himself facing the pithos. ‘Pith off,’ he said, managing a smile.
Kroll stared back at the burning ammunition truck, before remembering that there were much closer dangers. ‘Walther! Is the Englander dead?’
‘The men are climbing along both sides of the train,’ Walther replied. ‘They’ll get him.’
The Nazi leader leaned over to look down the train’s length. ‘They’d bet—’
Sudden horror choked off his words as he saw something emerge from the wagon behind. Something as tall as a man, engraved with ancient Greek text and topped with silver… ‘The jar!’ he managed to cry. ‘The water jar!’
The other Nazi leaders rushed to see — as the pithos was kicked out of the truck. It barrelled away down the slope, rolling faster and faster… until it hit a rock. The great jar exploded into a billion fragments, its precious contents splashing over the bleak hillside.
Rasche shook with anger. ‘The water…’ He rounded on Kroll. ‘That was all the fucking water! What the hell are we supposed to do now?’
Kroll struggled to control his own fury. ‘We carry on with the plan,’ he told the others, before adding to Rasche alone: ‘I think we’re committed to it now.’
Rasche glared at him, then went to a window to scream at the men clambering along the train’s side. ‘He’s in the treasure wagon! Kill that bastard! Come on, move!’
Eddie heard the enraged yelling even over the locomotive’s huff. He was about to have visitors.
Where was the relic? He had seen it being loaded, but one wooden box looked much like another. It had been amongst the last of the treasures put aboard, though, so it would be near the doors. Considering its importance, it would also have been put somewhere safe — or at least, he realised as he glanced at the ropes that had held the pithos, secure.
Only one crate was tied down. He was about to yank at the knots when more shouts prompted him to check outside. He peered out of the left-hand door — to see soldiers clambering along the train, holding the railings and guttering at the edge of the roof. A man reached across from the wagon behind to get a grip on the loot truck—
Eddie shot him in the stomach. The Nazi hit the ground with a crunch of bones. Another round took out the man behind him. The others following tried desperately to find cover, but by now the Yorkshireman had darted to the other side of the wagon to take out a third man less than two feet from the open door. The corpse flailed away down the hillside.
He darted back to the crate and released the ties. The lid had been nailed shut, but dashing the box apart on the floor took care of that. Crumpled paper spilled out — and amongst it, the dull gleam of bronze.
Eddie picked up the relic. It was too large to fit into any of his pockets. He still needed both hands, so he hoisted up the back of his leather jacket and shoved the artefact head first inside the waistband of his jeans, flat against his buttocks. ‘Can’t believe putting a fish in my pants is the least insane thing I’ve done today,’ he muttered. It was far from comfortable, and risked limiting his movements, but he shrugged the jacket back down over its protruding tail and went to the left-hand door.
Their comrades’ deaths had dissuaded the other soldiers from advancing along the train’s side. They could still come from above, though. If he was going to rescue Banna, he had to get on the roof before them.
He looked ahead — to see the driverless locomotive lurching into the next hairpin. ‘Oh, shite!’
The snaking effect was more violent as it rippled back along the train. Eddie grabbed the door frame to save himself from being thrown out. A truncated scream came from behind; he twisted to see a soldier — or rather, half a soldier — being spat out by the grinding wheels. The Nazi had taken cover between two of the trucks, only to be shaken loose on to the track.
Eddie clung on. If the train derailed here, the terrain was steep enough to kill everyone aboard when the wagons rolled over. He braced himself, ready to dive out and take his chances if the engine came off the tracks…
Somehow, all its wheels stayed on the rails. The rocking subsided as the locomotive clanked on to the next leg of the descent.
Eddie recognised what lay at its end — the extremely tight spiral loop that he had passed with Julieta on his way into the Enklave. There was no way the train would make it around at its current speed.
He pulled himself on to the roof. Smoke rose ahead where the burning ammo truck was wedged amongst the trees. Cracks and bangs warned him that bullets were still cooking off.
The brake van was freewheeling down the line above. He glimpsed Nina inside the bullet-pocked wagon. A wave to assure her that he was okay, then he narrowed his eyes against the hot smoke from the loco’s chimney and moved forward, wondering how the hell he was going to get Banna out of a carriage full of armed and angry Nazis.
‘He’s alive, Eddie’s alive!’ Nina cried, seeing her husband on the roof.
Zane pointed behind the Englishman. ‘So are they!’ The soldiers climbing along the train resumed their pursuit. ‘Get the brake!’
He brought up his sub-machine gun as Nina took the wheel. Zane aimed, waiting until he was sure that Eddie was beyond the MP5’s spread of fire — then pulled the trigger.