Hell Train by Christopher Fowler Read Free Book Online Page B

of war demand that we be taken prisoner and remain unhurt. No harm shall befall us.’
    ‘And that’s it, is it? Abject surrender? Begging for leniency?’ Miranda rounded on her husband. ‘I do not understand how you can say that, when you know perfectly well that the Central Powers are not honouring the code of conduct set out by the Allies. The newspapers have been full of nothing else, for all that they have been censored.’ Her husband’s pacifism was increasingly making her angry. The world was fast descending into a fiery pit, and all she heard was the damp drizzle of appeasement. Why did the weak always pin their hopes on compassion?
    But Thomas was no longer listening. She had seen him do this a hundred times before, closing his mind to anything he did not wish to hear. With each passing day of her marriage, she was becoming less and less pious. If God had chosen to speak through man, she was fairly sure He would not have picked Thomas to be his mouthpiece.
    Something pricked at Miranda’s ears. The rails were pinging, softly at first, then more clearly. ‘There’s something coming,’ she said.
     
     
    I SABELLA TRIED TO free herself from Ivan’s grip. Nicholas fought off his attackers, smashing the first man who touched him in the nose with a Marquis of Queensberry jab, only to be viciously kicked in return.
    Now another advanced on him with a flensing knife in his right fist. Nicholas brought up his knee and broke the farmhand’s arm with a sharp crack.
    Josef looked as if he had just realized he was required to fight for his fiancee. Physically imposing but held down by his bulk, he slowly advanced on the Englishman. Nicholas studied his solid gait, his thick arms and bull neck with dismay. He knew that one well-placed punch from the foundryman could render him unconscious. He desperately searched around for something he could use as a weapon.
    Too late. Josef attacked. Nicholas had been taught boxing skills at Cambridge, but was not afraid of playing dirty. He kneed Josef as hard as he could in the groin, sending him over, onto his back. Isabella screamed. Josef threw out a hand to grab his opponent. Nicholas was faster, but he slipped on the wet grass.
    Josef seized his chance and pinned Nicholas down on an overgrown grave-slab edged with iron railway spikes. Pressing his arm across the Englishman’s throat, he began to choke the life from him, bearing down with his full weight. Nicholas could pull his arms free, but this would not help his situation. He tried to bring Isabella into his line of vision, but could only hear her crying out. Josef pressed the advantage, pushing down harder.
    Lights danced before Nicholas’s burning eyes. His right hand gripped the grave’s iron corner spike, desperate for leverage, and he was shocked when it came away in his hand, rusted through.
    As Josef pushed down to break his neck, Nicholas stabbed at the soft flesh of his attacker’s throat with the sharp tip of the spike. The pain was enough to make Josef release his grip.Isabella pulled forward and tried to separate them, bringing Ivan with her. Josef rolled onto his back as Nicholas climbed to his feet and found Ivan running at him. He grabbed Ivan’s sleeve and spun him around, kicking away his legs to send him sprawling. The foundrymen were strong but slow.
    Nicholas grabbed at the sobbing Isabella and pulled her away, snatching up her bag, making a dash for it. He had lost his own valise in the fight, but had thankfully retained the wad of banknotes inside his breast pocket.
    The commotion had drawn the attention of the incoming soldiers, who were raising the alarm. More torches could be seen in the town’s streets, flickering against the walls, stretching shadows into monsters. It seemed their pursuers were uniting into a single lynch-mob.
    Isabella and Nicholas could only stumble to their feet and flee from the graveyard in the direction of the station, the fiery procession closing in behind them. Now