Team of Seven Heroes Short Tales 4 Chapter 3

3.

Junior

Young Abraham sat at the table in the Dining car enjoying the sandwich made for him made by the Normandy Slasher aka Madame Deauville. He was also given a feast of the Dunkirk tales from the whaling annual trips to Iceland waters to the pretty girls there. He enjoyed it all when the iced drink was served to him.

“We have this huge slab of ice kept in the cooler box. And we chip at it for the ice. Then we placed it in the jug filled with lemonade and sugar to taste.”

It was all wonderful and was better when Abraham saw the figures that stepped into Dining car. It was a squat framed figure dressed in some layers of cloth and had on a dark skirt but the twin swords tucked into the waist sash was not ornamental. The hair piece was unique with the swept back hair and knotted at the top but the expression was white with the stern looking eyes. The figure was followed by one other which was the focus of Abraham. It was a petite lady as was described by Madame Deauville, and was dressed in tightly wrapped dressing and wore sandals. Her hair piece was a well formed half fan design and her face was caked with some white powder and the pouted lips red.

“Bouiner young one (That’s Normandy slang for ‘do nothing young man’) and the lady stepped over to greet her new guests. Abraham heard the lady talking to the petite lady and they both laughed. So much for laughter for the stern looking guy was still in his unchanging expression.

“Oui, I will get it serve now. Ain’t a salmon unless it’s from my catch.” Madame Deauville then scots off and the two foreign guests took the next table with Abraham facing the stern figure. He averted away his look to the sweeping sand dunes.

Abraham then heard the lurched and the sound of the brakes applied by the locomotive. It was a jarring uncomfortable sound while the train slowed down to stop some distance ahead. Madame Deauville had then stepped out with the ‘plat de service’ which she balanced with her body while parading towards the foreign guests.

“Here, Cherie. Our very own fresh salmon as if it was from the morning catch.” Madame Deauville then pointed out the slices of lemon. “That may make it more palatable.”

“Thank you. I have my own condiments.” Abraham heard the other lady spoke and it was melody to his ears. He was to leave out of courtesy for privacy to the guests, when he saw the Train Master stepped in.

“Pardon me but we have a wee bit of problem on the tracks. We shall be underway soon.” The man struggled across the narrow aisle when he squeezed past Madame Deauville. Abraham could see it was intentional with the pair engaged in parting closure of breaths.

“Then we are to wait here.” The foreign lady voiced out and was replied with stern words that no one understand but the two foreigners.

“I shall speak in whatever language I want. I am no longer in Kyoto.” The lady replied to her older figure. “You will do your part to protect me, Taro-san. Those were the orders of my father.”

The older man turned away from his protected subject and saw Abraham looking at him. He sneered and then looked away but then Abraham had taken leave of the Dining car. He went past the passenger cars and saw many were disquiet then. He found their cabin and went in. His mother was still sleeping.  He took to his seat and nudged him into a comfortable posture. He had not settled in when he heard the sound of gunfire. He looked out the window and saw armed riders approaching the staled train.

“Young fool!” That was Abraham’s mother who was calling after the him when he grabbed his bag and left the cabin.

Abraham slung the bag across his chest and reached into grab the contents. He took out the belt that had the dagger on the right in the holster and then he grabbed the greaves for his left hand with the built-in metal three pronged hooks handed to him by his father. The righthanded greaves in his bag and told by his father that he was only to use it on the final task; a task which he was never told then.  

Abraham was ready.

He exited at the end of the carriage and grabbed railings to jump up onto the other carriage upper ridge there before he swung his right leg up. He was then over the ridge and on the carriage roof. He ran half crouched along it and saw the riders were at the cargoes cars. He counted twenty riders among the bandits that fired their guns to scare the train passengers. They were dressed in dark clothes covered from head to feet with only the face seen. They were armed with rifles and scimitars. Six of the riders have dismounted to approach the last carriage. He heard the roar of the heavy rifle and two of the approaching riders were down. The others returned fire and more firing came from the last carriage. That could had been the Train Master. His car was the last one. He was protecting the cargoes.

Then more shots came from the passenger cars.

Abraham saw the shots came from the car where the Foreign Legionnaires were seated. The bandits on the horses then turned away and retreated leaving five dead on the ground. Abraham thought it was over but he was wrong. There were more shots and it came from afar on the sandy dune. The shots were aimed at the passenger cars. It was well aimed and some shouts of help could be heard.

“Sniper!”

And the sniper had seen Abraham. He was shot at but missed by inches. He got up and ran along the passenger car rooftop and was shadowed by the sniper bullets at his feet. He ran and leapt to the next which was where the five rough looking gentlemen occupied below. He was still running when more shots came from below. He stopped and then turned around to run back the way he came but he slid down the end of the car and jumped to the cover of the car on the other side. He stood up and saw himself facing three hooded dark bandits who had used the distraction to approach from that side. The riders on the other side was a diversion.

“Oh…” Abraham backed up on his feet but was surprised to see the three bandits go down with multiple shots in the chest. He turned and saw the shooters were firing from the passenger car windows. It was the rough looking men who shot them.

“Howdy, boy. Are you fine?” Abraham looked up into the window and smiled.

“Good. We will cover you if you get back in. There could be more of them out there.” One of the shooters called out. He was with blonde hair and donned a scarf on the neck. He held a handgun that resembled a Webley.

Abraham nodded and then saw there were more bandits at the front of the train. The bandits were headed for the locomotive. He ran towards it with concern for his mother who was in the third car behind the locomotive. He saw a bandit stood in his path with the rifle levelled at his face. He did not stop but picked up his speed and then he jumped to land the kick onto the bandit at the chest. It was a risky move but his main concern was his mother. He dropped the bandit and ran on. He reached the passenger car and climbed in. He saw the door to the cabin was partially open. He rushed there to see his mother having pushed the bandit out of the window.

“About time you return. Can we stay together now?” Abraham’s mother displayed the dagger she used to kill the bandit. She wiped it on the window drapes and then replaced it into her right ankle holster at the boot there. She was dressed in the white tunic and the wide pants that reached her ankles above her army boots. She grabbed her own bag and retrieved the shoulder holster that held the Webley and the spare ammo. She slung that one before pulling out the belt for the waist with the twin daggers on the sides.

“How many are there?” The mother looked at her son.

“I lost count. Twenty or maybe fifty.”

“You are hopeless in the counting like your father. We will stay here and protect your father.” Abraham remembered that they were carrying his father’s remains and he doubt anyone could hurt those ashes. Then he got reprimanded by his mother.

“What did I tell you about your pants?”

Pants or pan was not the main concern of Madame Deauville swung the pan into the bandit’s face. That one had the misfortune to climb into the Dining car and was given the close-up impact. The bandit fell and the chef de Normandy descent picked up the rifle.

“Pooh!” The chef discarded the ancient rifle. She reached below the serving counter and took out the Enfield.

“If it’s not French, the next option is the British.” Madame Deauville loaded the rifle before pocketing some more bullets into the apron. She went to the window and aimed.

“Viva La France!” The shot took down the rider on the horse.