Train Hopping (3)

[GT Jones]

Five cars ahead the freightcar snapped with the inertia of all the cars before it. If he didn’t jump, the train would throw him from the edge. Even if he could hold on the train would deliver him far from where he was meant to stop. And if he climbed back inside the car he’d have to contend with a load of steel pipe that was ready to waffle him under such a quick pull. He threw the backpack over the edge sidearm. “swing out and let go.” He straddled the gondola wall and scrambled to grip where the ladder mounted at the front to the car. “The letting go is what gets em.” BOOOOM! The metal crackled. Edges grinded. Two couplers ahead, the snap forced his grip loose. He grabbed back. The train was moving too fast to run alongside. He let go, watching a quiver though the metal sidewall, the chains swinging like weapons from the sides, the concussion turning the steel to water. He pushed from the stirrup with his legs and forced himself away from the train. The train’s breath from underneath forced onto his body a rape kiss. It tries to hold onto everything, it decides to let you go or not. Gravity stopped. He felt stuck, held.

His heels dragged through the ballast stone. His back snapped and drove his head into the chafe where the train finally let go. He did nothing, he let it happen, not knowing how close he was to the rails. The granite edges grabbed into his back and pulled his shirt over his head. Darkness. His hearing echoed, then gone, only able to hear the train's unbothered howling into the distance.