The Sixth Trumpet (Days of Dread Trilogy Book 2) by Caryl McAdoo

Author:Caryl McAdoo [McAdoo, Caryl]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-06-21T22:00:00+00:00

“Really? Look around. There’s no room. He’ll be fine.” Jackson pressed into her shoulder. “Dogs can run a long way. Ever hear of sled dog races?”

“Of course. I watched Life Below Zero.”

“You did?”

“Sure. With my brothers. You think they let me have full command of the remote? Poppy made them give me turns. What else was I supposed to do? Besides, one family had all little Eskimo girls. I enjoyed it.”

“You don’t say. Well, those guys can do over a hundred miles in a day. Greenville is only forty miles or so. We might even get on the other side before dawn.”

“Forty miles? How fast are we going?”

“Maybe eight, even ten miles an hour.”

“Wow, that fast? Anyway, Boggs isn’t a sled dog. I’d hate for anything to happen to him.”

“Trust me. He’ll be fine.”

He liked her concern for the mutt, but God or whoever had led them to the handcar then shown Al the manual . . . Jackson wasn’t about to let it go to waste because the dog had to run.

If Boggs got tired, then he could take a rest and catch up. The canine had proven himself over and over again.

Oh, how wonderful the wind in his face felt. The rain finally quit, and it had cooled the temperatures to almost downright chilly but the way he was working, it’d have to get a lot colder to make him put his coat on.

The car had to be going over ten miles an hour.

Faster than what the Army called a forced march, and that would get you four to five miles an hour. Not everything he knew came from reruns. That tidbit was from his father.

There wasn’t any reason to go any faster. The effort expended wasn’t all that bad. How long could he keep it up? “Hey, Al, what say we take turns?”

The nerd looked up but kept pumping. “What are you referencing?”

“You start by not pushing or pulling one time. Just hang on. Then Aria will rest one push, then me. Maybe that way, we won’t have to stop until we get to Greenville.”

“Okay, here goes, One.”

“Two.”

He took his turn. “Three.”

It worked great, and the car didn’t slow any.

The tracks bent in an easy left-hand turn. Ahead a quarter mile or so, what looked like boxcars sat on the tracks. Great. How was he going to get around them?

Had they found the handcar for the return trip instead? The tracks didn’t go all the way, just across the old roadbed. He nodded ahead.

“Need to slow down. There’s boxcars on the tracks.”

Al turned around then back. “Sir, uh sorry. Wait. Jacks! They’re on a sidetrack.”

Jackson looked again, closer. He was right. “Awesome.” He almost lifted his head and thanked the heavens. Was a being up there really helping? The nerd had said his father had become a Christian. What had Dad discovered? If only he knew, could talk with him for real and not in his dream.

It seemed strange, whizzing past the railcars instead of the other way around.

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