Chapter 13 - Blood on the Rails

Clara lunged for the rusted iron ladder of an open boxcar. Her fingers slipped on the wet metal, her shoulder wrenching with agony as the moving train dragged her across the gravel ballast. ""Hawk!"" she screamed, her boots kicking uselessly in the empty air.
Hawk caught her around the waist with one immense arm, his boots finding purchase on the bottom rung. With a guttural roar, he heaved her upward into the dark interior of the freight car, tumbling in after her as another spray of bullets ricocheted off the steel exterior.
The train gained momentum, leaving the muzzle flashes and shouting mercenaries behind in the mountain mist.
Clara lay flat on the splintered floorboards, clutching her chest, gasping for air. ""We made it... Hawk, we made it.""
There was no answer.
Clara turned her head in the dim, rattling darkness of the boxcar. Hawk was leaning against the steel bulkhead, his hand pressed firmly against his right side. Crimson blood was already pooling beneath his denim vest, seeping through his fingers with every heavy breath.
""Hawk!"" Clara scrambled to his side, tearing away the greasy bandana from her neck to press against the wound. ""You're hit!""
""Through and through... near the ribs,"" Hawk grunted, his face turning an ashen, sickly gray. ""Missed the lungs... I think.""
""Hold on, please! We're almost to Helena!"" Clara pleaded, applying pressure while the train rattled violently across the iron trestle bridge high above the roaring river.
Hawk managed a weak, bloody grin. ""Listen to me, girl... Once we hit the yards, you don't stay with me. You take the key. You go straight to First National. Ask for Mr. Henderson. He was Thomas's friend. He knows what to do.""
""I'm not leaving you to bleed out in a freight yard!"" Clara cried, tears cutting clean tracks through the grime on her face.
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Hawk lifted his heavy, trembling hand, pressing the brass key into her bloodstained fingers. ""You have to finish this, Clara. If Silas gets that ledger, your father died for nothing. Marcus died for nothing.""
The train began to decelerate, the air brakes hissing loudly as the industrial outskirts of Helena came into view through the boxcar door.