The approaching train sent a low, rumbling echo through the valley, like the breathing of some great beast.
The disguised outlaw stood in the middle of the tracks, frantically waving the red cloth.
The train's driver saw him immediately, and also saw the obstruction on the tracks ahead. He yanked the handle for the air brake.
The entire 22-car train began to screech and shudder as the emergency brakes engaged. It slid for over 600 meters, finally coming to a halt a hundred meters from the abandoned wagon.
Everything was going according to plan.
Four outlaws immediately rushed the locomotive, holding the driver and his two engineers at gunpoint and tying their hands.
Dak-dak-dak-dak-dak!
The moment the train stopped, the Gatling gun on the hill opened up, pouring a stream of heavy-caliber rounds into the second-to-last car—the car carrying the guards.
Henry was jolted awake by the violent braking of the train. He immediately pulled on his boots, ran to the window on the left side of the car, and looked out. Nothing.
The train shuddered to a final stop. He ran back to the other side of his compartment and peered out the small, sealed window.
He saw it. On a small hill, a machine gun was spitting fire. It was a military-grade weapon, firing three or four hundred rounds a minute. Its target was the guards' car, right next to Consuelo's private car. Richard and Madeline's compartment was also in the line of fire.
The men in that car were trapped. They were going to be slaughtered.
His own angle of fire was too narrow to hit the gunner, and he didn't want to draw their attention.
He slammed his fist on the partitions on either side of his compartment. "Pete! Linda! Richard! Wake up! Open the partitions, get over to my compartment! We're being attacked! Richard, your position is the most dangerous, move now!"
They moved instantly. One by one, the partitions slid open.
Henry strapped the sheath of twelve throwing knives to his belt.
"Pete, get Conrad and Tom to open their partition as well. The outlaws will be boarding the train any second. I'll protect them. Go!"
Pete scrambled to the other side of his compartment. In truth, Tom and Conrad had already heard Henry's shouts. Within seconds, all the partitions in their section of the car were open, creating a single, long corridor. Thanks to Pete's stories, they all had an unshakable faith in Henry.
They knew the thin wooden walls of their compartments offered no protection. They were fish in a barrel.
The Gatling gun continued to roar for three solid minutes, pouring over a thousand rounds into the guards' car before its barrel finally overheated and it fell silent. The thin metal skin of the train car had been shredded like brittle paper, the wood behind it splintered into a thousand pieces.
The sides of the car were riddled with a dense pattern of bullet holes. Dark red blood seeped from the openings, trickling down the side of the car in gruesome rivulets, carrying with it the lives and souls of the men inside.
When the machine gun stopped, the main body of outlaws moved in. Three men stormed each end of the last four Pullman cars.
The men who entered the guards' car methodically executed the few who had miraculously survived the initial barrage.
In the other cars, the outlaws worked in teams of three. One held a large sack, while the other two held the terrified passengers at gunpoint. Anyone who didn't comply was brutally pistol-whipped.
Jesse and Frank James, along with a man named Charlie, entered Consuelo's private car from one end. Three of the Younger brothers entered from the other.
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," Jesse said, his voice calm and steady as he surveyed the terrified aristocrats. "We are the James brothers, and those gentlemen at the other end are the Youngers. You may have heard of us. We only want your money, not your lives. But that depends on your cooperation."
"Now," he said, his voice hardening, "put all of your jewelry, your watches, your wallets, and anything else of value into the bag. Now!"
Charlie grinned. "Come on now, be good. Everything in the bag. That's it."
Kaylee and Amanda quickly complied, dropping their belongings into the sack.
"Miss," Frank said, his voice impatient as he stared at Chris, "your necklace. Now. Do you think this is a bedtime story?"
"Please," Chris begged, her voice trembling, "you can have everything else. This necklace has been in my family for generations. Please, let me keep it."
Frank just laughed. "Charlie," he said, "the lady needs some persuasion."
Charlie stepped forward and, with a vicious swing, smashed the butt of his rifle into the young woman's cheek. She cried out in pain. He swung again, hitting the other side of her face.
Sobbing, Chris unclasped the sapphire necklace and dropped it into the bag. Frank immediately snatched it and stuffed it into his own pocket.
BANG!
A gunshot and a cry of pain from the other end of the car.
"The next one goes in your head," Cole Younger snarled. "All of you, hand over your guns." One of the young gentlemen, Dylan, had tried to draw his own pistol and had been shot through the hand for his trouble.
"Haha, you got guts, kid," Tom Younger taunted him. "If we weren't taking you with us, you'd be a dead man."
The passengers' faces went white. Kidnapped.
"You have your fathers and grandfathers to thank for this," Jesse said to Consuelo. "They're the ones who won't leave us in peace. Now, be good, and this will all be over sooner."