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FROM "ANGEL OF THE GOLD RUSH":
Kathleen
plunged forward, wild-eyed, leaving a trail of crimson in the snow. She was driving her body on pure rage, knife outstretched.
Red foam flecked her chin. Falling to her knees at the side of Two Moons, her waning consciousness barely registered the
devastation the buffalo gun had wreaked on his body. She saw terror in his eyes, heard his death wail pick up again. Kathleen
raised her arm high. "For Terry!" she said, driving the knife hard into his throat. The death wail stopped.
She sat
panting in the blood-spattered snow for a few seconds. A faint sound caused her to look up. She saw a young Paiute brave
on horseback a short distance away, his face contorted into a mask of anguish. Blind fury raging in her bones, she gripped
the knife hard and staggered to her feet. On shaking legs, she started toward him.
Paints His Face was terrified.
The white demon was coming for him. His father's arrow was sunk in her chest, and still she came, her wolf eyes on him.
The legend was true; she could not be killed. He shook himself free from shock and whirled his horse into the trees.
Kathleen
stood, blood dripping from her chin, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The knife fell from her hand. Slowly she sank to
her knees. Darkness crept in at the edge of her vision. Desperately, she groped for the cross around her neck. Her blood-slick
hand clutched at her dress, then fell to her side. The light faded from the incredible sky-blue eyes. As blackness overwhelmed
her, she moaned, "Christ, I come," and collapsed into the snow.
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FROM
"ANGEL'S DAUGHTER":
The instant 75 straightened out on the vally floor, Alex jerked the throttle wide open again. Seventy-five
erupted with fire and smoke and surged forward in pursuit.
"We need to catch him before he exits the valley!" Alex shouted
above the roar. "I don't fancy trying to do it on the curves that are sure to follow."
"How's our vital signs?" Megan
shouted in his ear.
Alex's eyes swept over the gauges. "Everything looks good. Plenty of water, steam pressure's good.
She's running at peak efficiency. I wonder how the Governor Stanford is doing?" Seventy-five thundered across the valley
floor, her red-spoked drive wheels flashing in the morning sunlight.
Leatherwood looked behind him with growing panic.
They were gaining! He turned on the engineer in frustration. "Can't you get any more speed out of this bucket?"
"No
way!" the engineer shouted. "She's full out now. But more'n that, we got a bigger problem." He tapped the glass tube indicating
boiler water. The water level barely registered. "We need water, bad. There's a water tower at the end of the valley.
We gotta stop there."
Leatherwood paled. "No time! That locomotive catches us, I'm a dead man."
"We''re both dead
men if we don't stop!" the engineer shouted. "We don't get some water soon, this engine's headed for Kingdom come!"
Leatherwood
shot a glance over his shoulder. Seventy-five was now only about two hundred yards back. He turned around and pointed the
derringer at the engineer's head. "I'll take my chances. You don't stop, got it?"
"An engine can't run without water!"
the engineer screamed. But Leatherwood's pistol didn't waver. The Governor Stanford sped across the valley floor, with 75
close behind.
"Not long now!" Alex shouted. They were closing fast.
"He doesn't seem inclined to stop and talk,"
Megan said.
"No."
"What are you going to do?"
"I really don't know at this point," Alex said grimly.
The gap between
the locomotives shrank rapidly. Seventy-five roared toward the back end of Leatherwood's luxury railcar. Only fifty yards
separated the trains.
Thirty yards.
Twenty.
Ten.
"Hang on!" Alex shouted. Seventy-five's cowcatcher surged forward
like a giant spear and smashed into the rear of the railcar just as the two locomotives flashed beneath the water tower.
.
. . Aboard Governor Stanford, Leatherwood fought a rising panic. The locomotive was beginning to make strange noises. The
boiler water level tube read empty. He looked back and could see Alex Daley making his way along the side of the trailing
locomotive, a murderous expression on his face. Leatherwood didn't know what to do. Then he realized the valise with his
sale agreement - the one he still needed two signatures on - was in his railcar. Frantically, he began to scramble back across
the coal tender.
The locomotives lurched around a sharp curve, still locked together. Leatherwood lost his balance and
fell into the coal pile. He got up, his expensive clothes marred by black coal dust. He lurched across the tender and fell
through the open doorway of his car.
The Governor Stanford exploded.
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FROM "LEGACY OF ANGELS":
Ben carried
Kathleen out through the assembled crowd to the Beacon Tree at the edge of the bluff. The waning sun cut a fiery path across
the water. Ben laid her gently down on the lounge chair facing the ocean. The soft offshore breeze played with her graying
hair. The Beacon Tree spread its branches above her.
No one talked. Kathleen's breathing became increasingly labored.
After a short while, Danielle said, "It's getting chilly. I'll go get our coats from the house." She walked off to do so.
They
stood for a minute or two more. The breeze died away to nothing. Megan knelt and rested her head on her mother's chest,
facing the sea. Kathleen turned her head and looked at Ben. He bent over near her face. She raised her right arm and put
it around his neck, pulling him to her lips. Into him she poured her last breath of life. Ben could feel her fading away
beneath his touch. He pulled back slightly as her eyes took on a faraway look. She whispered something only he could hear.
Then her arm fell from his neck and she was gone.
The essence of what Kathleen was rose up from the blufftop, leaving
her family below. Upward she went, through the clear evening air, through the scattered clouds far overhead.
Into the
brilliant sunlight above.
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