Freight conductor, Terry Preston felt the movement first, the squeaking wheels of the Northern Pacific freight cars as they rounded a curve. He didn’t want to open his eyes; his head was already pounding. Then he felt something drip on his forehead. A drop of water? He groaned.

“I thought they fixed that leak in the roof of this damn caboose,” he said. He rubbed the drop from his head and opened his eyes. Immediately he stood up. “What the hell?” His hands were red, his shirt and vest had red spots too, blood. He looked at the top bunk, not sure what to expect...

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