Chapter 68 - The Viaduct Chasm
The pneumatic hoses between the cars snapped with the sound of cannon fire, whipping wildly against the iron gangway. The main locomotive surged forward into the dark mouth of the mountain tunnel, leaving our decoupled observation carriage coasting helplessly onto the high, single-track viaduct.
And the brakes weren't engaging. Cynthia hadn't just decoupled the carriage—she had severed the pneumatic brake lines entirely.
Ahead of us stretched the North Viaduct: a skeletal, century-old steel trestle bridge spanning a three-thousand-foot-wide gorge. Halfway across the bridge, a massive section of the guard rails and maintenance decking had completely collapsed during a recent winter blizzard, leaving only the bare, unsupported rails suspended over the frozen abyss.
Our carriage was coasting directly toward the void at forty miles an hour.
"The manual handbrake on the rear platform!" Clara shouted, rushing toward the rear of the car.
"It won't hold!" Cynthia laughed from the corner, slumping against her desk, her hand clutching a bleeding wound in her side where a stray bullet had caught her. "The carriage weighs forty tons! Without the air brakes, we will tear right through the severed spans! We die together, Julian! Just like your father died on this very bridge!"
I ignored the madwoman. I bolted to the rear of the car where Clara was desperately trying to turn the massive cast-iron brake wheel. The wheel was rusted, screeching in protest, moving only a fraction of an inch against decades of mountain corrosion.
"Lily, get down on the floor! Cover your head!" I roared, throwing my entire body weight into the iron wheel beside Clara.
Our combined strength forced the wheel around one full rotation. Two. Three.
Beneath the floorboards, the cast-iron brake shoes slammed against the spinning steel wheels. The carriage bucked violently, throwing us against the wall as smoke poured from the wheel wells. The smell of burning iron and boiling grease filled the cabin.
Through the forward windows, I could see the severed section of the viaduct rushing toward us. The tracks ended fifty yards ahead, hanging out over empty air like broken teeth.
*SCREEEEEECH!*
The carriage lurched sideways as the wheels locked into a dead slide. Sparks flew twenty feet into the freezing air. The vehicle fishtailed across the wet tracks, the rear platform swinging out into empty space over the abyss.
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With a final, terrifying groan of twisting steel, the observation car came to a dead halt.
The front two wheels were dangling six feet out over the edge of the shattered bridge.
