Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                  CHAPTER TWENTY
                               Chapter twenty-part three

     “How is he?” Asked Henry to Virgil who now stood over the still body of Fenton, his shotgun open as he flipped the smoking shells onto the floor and reloaded his shotgun with shells taken from his coat pocket.
     “He’s dead,” replied Virgil calmly.
     “He ain’t dead, he’s still breathing, do something man.”
     Virgil knelt down over the bloody body, and listened to the man’s labored breathing and watched as the blood pulsed out of his neck with each heartbeat. The flow of blood slowed, then stopped. he listened as Fenton’s last gasp of breath barely caused the blood on the floor to move.
     “He’s dead,” restated Fenton as he stood up.
     Virgil stood at the bar pouring himself a drink from one of the bottles that still stood upright on the bar and said to the porter who huddled hidden on the floor behind the bar, “You can get up now, it’s over.”
     “Lordy, lordy, my Lord,” gasped the porter as he viewed the wreckage of bodies and furniture in the dining car, then he began unconsciously to wipe the bar top clear of its broken bottles and spilled whiskey.
    “There, there dear it’s over,” Henry said to Katherine, still in his arms, trying to comfort her.
     The hot smell of burning firewood filled the room as black smoke from the overturned stove continued to empty into the dining car.
     “Fire!” Screamed the porter, pointing towards the dislodged stove in the corner.
     Hot coals that had spilled from the open door of the stove ignited the spilled whiskey that had been strewn around the floor during the struggle with the wolf. Red and yellow flames quickly engulfed the body of the wolf and the torn curtains near the broken window. Virgil and Henry quickly rushed towards the flames trying to stamp them out but the liquor fueled fire continued to spread along the floor towards the wooden bar. Virgil ripped down a window curtain and began beating at the flames, the flames continued to creep towards the bar and up the sides of the dining car reaching to the ceiling.
     “Snow,” shouted Virgil. “Grab that firewood bucket Henry. Open the other door.”
     “No!! There’s wolves out there,” cried Katherine.
     Virgil ignored her pleads and opened the door as Henry handed him the firewood bucket. The porter climbed over the bar and joined Henry and Virgil in a line down the aisle of the dining car. Virgil hurriedly packed the snow from outside in the firewood bucket and then passed it to Henry who in turn passed it to Isaiah. Isaiah moved as close as he dared to the flames and dumped the snow onto the fire, stopping it with the frozen mixture. The men continued passing the bucket along the line, filling it with snow and returning the filled bucket to the flames. Bucket after bucket kept passing up and down the isle, the fire became smaller and smaller as each pound of snow was doused into it. Black smoke half filled the dining car from the extinguished flames and the hot firewood stove. Finally a last bucket of snow was thrown into the stove, smothering the hot coals. The men collapsed into the dining car booths as the black smoke swirled around the car driven by the icy wind coming in from the broken window.
     “Quite an eventful night,” muttered Virgil, straightening up and reaching into his inner coat pocket and pulling out a cigar.
     “Lordy, lordy,” an exhausted Isaiah sighed.
     “You can say that again,” Virgil responded.
     “Come on Kay, let me take you back to your cabin, you’ll be safe there.”
     “No!! I can’t be alone,” cried Katherine.
     “Come on Kay, let’s go,” said Henry holding her tight and guiding her towards her cabin.
     “We heard shots,” Warren excitedly said stepping into the dining car followed closely by Vinton. “What happened here?”
     “A wolf,” replied Henry while escorting Katherine through the doorway and into the adjoining car.
     “You two men missed all the fun,” remarked Virgil while pouring himself a drink and puffing on his cigar.
     “My God!” Exclaimed Vinton.
     “Ain’t no God here,” replied Vinton. “You two men pick up what’s left of Fenton there and take him someplace.”
     “Ah, where?” asked Warren.
     “Put him the storage car, I don’t care. Just get him out of here.”
                                                                    #
To be continued...