Ezra’s voice, calm and steady, spoke into my helmet. “Sophie, are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she replied, “I hit my helmet on the tank when I ducked. They came around the corner so suddenly. I hope they didn’t see me.”

Ezra then asked me, “John, can you tell if anyone is investigating Sophie’s hiding spot?” His tone bore no hint of the panic I felt at the thought of Sophie being seen. I leaned forward and squinted out the window. I could just make out the stack of tanks as one large object in the distance, but there was no visible activity around them. “I don’t see anyone,” I answered.

But just as the words left my mouth, I suddenly noticed some figures, their dark forms barely discernible on the catwalks. It was hard to gauge direction and movement from that distance, but no one seemed to be climbing over the concrete pieces or giving Sophie’s car any undue attention.

I watched them intently as some of the dark figures moved closer, becoming more distinguishable. They raised the catwalks and opened cargo cars. Eventually, they were near enough that I felt the need to tuck myself further out of sight, fearing they might see my white face pressed against the glass; my helmet was flipped up like Ezra's had been earlier.

The thieves pushed carts along, setting down a plank to cross the gaps between cars. Two of the thieves made their way close to me. I could see them clearly: one was tall and lanky, the other stocky. They wore helmets like ours—new and in good condition—with radios, as indicated by the control buttons on the sides. However, their clothes did not match the shiny helmets; they were well-worn, torn, and stained.

It was alarming to witness a crime being committed right before my eyes. One of the thieves stood at the keypad of the cargo car directly in front of me, typing in the code. I could see his black gloved hand gripping the handle by the door to steady himself. Then, he slid the door open, and the two stepped inside. I noticed they had secured their cart to the rail to prevent it from rolling backward.

Soon, a case was laid upon the cart, then another, and another. They were marked "AetherBond," which I later learned was an extremely costly admixture designed to enhance the strength and durability of concrete while providing self-healing properties through advanced nanotechnology. Just a single quart of this product could improve a hundred cubic feet of concrete, justifying its premium price. Thus, unbeknownst to me at the time, these few cases of AetherBond represented a significant haul for the thieves.

However, four cases seemed to be their limit. They slid the door closed, unclipped their cart, and began heading back down the line, putting up the catwalks as they went. Thinking that would be the last of the thieves I would see, I was startled to catch movement to my right. Looking over, I saw another couple passing by, heading further up the train. I quickly lost sight of them, and unable to stand and look behind me without exposing myself, I simply waited for their return, feeling increasingly uncomfortable with the idea of them being behind me.

“Sophie,” I asked.

“Yes?” she replied, apprehension creeping into her voice.

“How are you holding up?”

“I’m alright, but my position is awkward. I can’t see anything without exposing my head. Are they still out there?”

“Yeah, they’re spread out all over the Möbius.”

Ezra interjected, “Did they arrive in the car I suspected?”

“Yes,” Sophie confirmed. “It’s only two cars down from me. I saw the door sliding open before the train bent them out of sight. I was watching when suddenly the train curved back, and they came right around the corner in front of me. That’s when I hid.”

Ezra reassured her, “Just keep low, Sophie. You’ve done very well; that was all we needed. We’ll be coming up on Omaha soon, and I think they’ll return to their lair temporarily. There’s going to be a lot of launch activity, and the Möbius runs close to the outlying cities, where many people can clearly see the train.”

Just then, the Möbius began to swing north in a wide arc, allowing me to see the entire right side of the train. I wished again that Ezra had left the binoculars with me, as I noticed four or five figures moving down the line, disappearing into a distant car. All the catwalks on that side appeared to have been raised, but I couldn't tell about the other side.

“The left side seems emptied,” I reported.

“How does it look to your right, John? Clear yet?” Ezra asked.

I glanced to my right. “I’m not sure. The walk on my car is retracted, but I can’t see beyond that.”

“They must have returned by now. Look, there’s a little town right there,” Ezra said. I turned to my left to see buildings and roads less than a quarter of a mile away. After so long in the WILD, it was strange to see life again.

“I don’t like my position,” Sophie said, a hint of panic in her voice. “I want to come back to the engine.”

Ezra told her, “There are four launches coming in rapid succession, two of which are double launches. We’ll be seeing a lot of movement for the next half hour or so. I’m not sure it’s wise; it could be dangerous, and you might end up on a car that leaves the Möbius.”

“I’ll risk it,” she said breathlessly. “I’m already going. I don’t like being so exposed so close to them.”

I could hear her determination and heavy breathing as she struggled to descend from her hiding place.

“Be certain to put down every catwalk you raise,” Ezra instructed Sophie firmly. “And once we are clear of the Omaha launches, you must hide immediately, no matter where you are. You cannot be seen; you’ll alert them to our presence.”

As he spoke, I spotted the first launch approaching— a double launch, two separate sets of cars speeding toward us. This was a new addition to the system, a sign that even the Möbius was evolving. 

“Look out, Sophie,” I warned. “There are two sets of cars coming.”

“I see them,” she replied. “I’m waiting to jump to another car until I know where the break is. Do you see it yet?”

In her haste, she had already left the car where she’d been hiding and was poised at the end of the next one, her thin frame bent against the wind as she clutched the handrail. 

I focused down the line, spotting the split in the tracks—first one, then another further back. “All the changes are happening behind you, Sophie. You can go ahead,” I urged. 

I stood in the harvester’s cab, my face pressed to the window, watching her progress with mounting tension. She crossed the gap, reached back to lower the catwalk, and dashed forward. Yet, it seemed the Möbius had barely united again before another launch was approaching.

“It’s going to split again, Sophie,” I warned, tension building in my voice. She hesitated. This new launch set the train around me in a frenzy of activity, and I found myself drifting alone with only a few other cars. Sophie, however, outside this busy zone, could proceed, and she did. To my great delight, I watched a couple of cars between us peel off onto the exit spur, so that as the Möbius united again, Sophie was just three or four cars from me.

But the launches were coming so fast that I could hardly comprehend what was happening. The suspense was so intense that I lost my peripheral vision, focusing only on the lone woman forcing her way forward. I had forgotten the doubts Ezra had planted in my mind and hoped only to see her safely with me again.

In that moment, as Sophie transitioned to the next car and reached back to press the button to collapse the catwalk, the car she was standing on began to pull away. With her weight stretching into the widening void and the wind pushing against her, she overextended and unable to regain her balance leaped back to the previous car.

Landing awkwardly on the metal grating, she was thrown back even further by the rushing air. It took her a moment to find her footing. In her disorientation, she didn’t seem to realize she had hit the button to lower the catwalk, which was already angling down, the handrail tilting away. I yelled a futile warning, watching in dread as each second passed, more terrible than the last.

Sophie now seemed frozen in panic, uncertain about what was happening and what to do. I saw the dawning terror in her eyes as the catwalk pitched down, threatening to send her plummeting to the lethal ground below. I expected to see her fall. But in that moment, my view of Sophie was entirely blocked as two new cars slipped into the gap between us. I held my breath, waiting for the dreaded scream—shrill and then cut short—followed by the tumult of her tumbling alongside the iron giant. Instead, there was silence.

“Sophie!” I yelled. I waited. Silence. Then I heard her groan, followed by a terrified cry. I couldn’t hold still. I flipped the face down on my helmet and pushed the door open. Clinging to the rail of the harvester, I descended to the deck. “Sophie? Are you there?” Outside, I couldn’t tell if I was hearing her panting breath or just the howling wind.

Ezra broke the silence, saying, “John, what are you doing? Be careful.” There was an unusual tension in his voice, but I barely registered it in the moment. I was on the platform, feeling blindly with my feet for the ladder to descend to the lower deck. I found it, and going down on my belly, I clung to anything I could and prepared to slide over the edge onto the ladder. But in my wild haste, my foot slipped on a rung, and I suddenly found myself hanging in the wind, my body pushed out into empty air.

“John, hold on!” Ezra cried. In that moment, I felt certain my fingers would be peeled from the rail of the ladder, but my fear compelled me to grip the steel so tightly that, had it been a softer metal, I might have crushed it. My head swam, but I realized I was not lost. With a grunt, I fought against the rushing air and pulled myself back toward the ladder. My feet found the rungs, and with a relieved exhale, I began to descend toward the bottom to raise the catwalk.

“John, slow down,” Ezra said. “I can’t have you both falling off the train.”

“Both!” I cried. “She fell?”

“No, she’s still clinging to the side, John, but if you rush and fall, she surely will as well.

“Sophie, how are you doing?” he asked her.

“Not great,” she moaned, but I was delighted to hear her voice and to know she was still on the train.

“Hold on, John is coming,” Ezra told her.

“Please hurry, John,” she whimpered desperately.

Waiting for the catwalk to raise felt like an eternity, but at last, it was up, and I could reach out to raise the next one. As I stood waiting again, I looked down the train to Sophie. She was still there, though I could hardly comprehend how she remained on the car. With the toes of her shoes on the slimmest lip of steel, she clung to the rail with both hands, struggling to keep her body tight against the wall despite the wind that tugged at her.

There were several cars between us, and I knew she couldn’t hold that position much longer. Not waiting for the catwalk to fully raise, I leaped across, almost losing my balance, then rushed down the length of the car. Hitting the button to raise the next catwalk, I watched in alarm as Sophie shifted, trying to maintain her tenuous grip. The ground sped past, steep and rocky. A fall meant certain death.

Again, not waiting for the catwalk to level out, I jumped across, grasping for the rail of the container only. My landing was clumsy, and my ankle felt twisted, but I pressed on despite the pain. Crossing that car, I pressed the button for the next catwalk, but I had to wait for it to be nearly fully up, as this flatcar offered no handhold on my right.

As I waited for the catwalk to raise, it happened: one of her feet slipped, and her whole body went down. I heard her cry mingled with my own. Yet, like me, her hands held on as her legs dangled in the wind. She screamed again. I leapt across the gap, the catwalk at an awkward slope. Slipping, I bashed my knee against the grating, but staggered forward nonetheless, shouting, “Hold on! Hold on!”

At last, I was there. Stretching out, I pressed the button to raise her catwalk. It extended, pushing against her legs and lifting her up. Yet, as the angle increased, I feared it might pull her grip free from the container. When I leapt onto the sloped catwalk, she did indeed lose her hold, just as I had feared, slipping over the edge. Falling to my stomach on the hard grating, I scrambled to grab her outstretched arms. There was a wild clutching, and then it was over. I had a hold on her, though from the chest down, her body dangled in the wind.

But now we were both in danger; I had no grip on the train, and gravity and the wind conspired to wrench us from the flying Möbius. Yet, in that uncertain moment, the catwalk slowly raised, allowing me to pull her up with one hand while gripping the car with the other. With a final grunt, I heaved her toward me, away from the edge, and there we lay together in a jumble, panting. She was crying softly, and I could feel her shoulders shuddering. I pulled her closer, saying breathlessly, “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

For a few moments, we could do nothing more, but Ezra broke into our recovery, saying, “Well, that was a pretty alarming scene. I understand you’re both tired and hurt, but the last launch has just settled. You two must find somewhere to hide immediately.”

“Can you stand?” I asked Sophie. “Is anything broken?”

She pressed herself up, drawing her legs toward her, and felt her ankle. “I don’t know for certain, but my ankle really hurts.” She probed it, and not finding anything obviously wrong, she attempted to stand. I stood too, finding my ankle throbbing as well, but it could bear my weight, and I tried to help her.

“That was so idiotic of me, John,” she said self-critically. “I’m so impatient.” She began to hobble forward.

“It’s fine,” I soothed. “We’re okay.”

Together, we made it to the transition. I looked out for an incoming launch. My eyes seemed unwilling to focus, but there didn’t appear to be anything coming. We crossed carefully, and I raised the catwalk. She was moving slowly and trembling.

“I think you two should hide there and catch your breath,” I heard Ezra say. It felt as though my vision had contracted to a tiny point; I wasn’t really seeing anything around me. I looked next to me, surprised to find we were on the flatcar loaded with concrete I-beams. I hadn’t noticed them when I was there a moment ago. I realized there just might be room for us to squeeze between two the beams.

“Can you make it in there?” I asked Sophie, pointing to the nearest opening. She seemed dazed and, giving no response, limply began climbing into the shadowy space. I stepped back and hit the button to raise the catwalk before following her. As I climbed in on my knees, I told Ezra, “Ezra, I can’t put up the other walks. I’m sorry; there’s no way.”

“I’ve got them, John. I’ll have to leave the one out on the car above you, but that came in on the recent launch, so they might think it was that way already.”

“What? You’re out here too?”

“Do you think I’ve been standing around doing nothing, John? I’ve been only a couple of cars behind you the whole time. We’ve done all we can and not a moment too soon, either, for here they come.”

I dragged myself further up the gap between the hard beams until Sophie and I both collapsed together about midway. It’s strange how comfortable you can be, regardless of what you’re resting on, when you’re absolutely worn out. In that moment, the sloped bases of the two concrete beams felt like the softest bed in the world. The wind was somewhat diminished in our little hideout, and for a time, in the quiet dark, I almost felt I could fall asleep.

Suddenly, the sensation of a faint vibration stirred me from my weary daze. I wondered if the catwalk was being raised, as it felt like the same low hum I had perceived when I lowered it just minutes before—the gentle whirring of the electric motors mounted to the undercarriage. I shifted to a sitting position to look out, for a thick beam of wood lay transversely across each layer of I-beams, leaving a slim gap of six or eight inches between them. 

I raised my head to peek through the small space and could just see the handrail of the catwalk rise into view. At first, there was nothing more to see aside from the green rush of land. However, as the Möbius completed its slow turn to the south, I beheld a great grey mountain of cloud. I was considering its direction and whether we might be able to escape it when someone passed by on the catwalk, fighting their way up the train.

I quickly ducked, hoping I hadn’t given myself away with my sudden movement. I glanced at Sophie, who lay still on her side, watching me. “What did you see?” she asked.

Not wanting to bring up that I might have been seen, I simply said, “It looks like it might rain. Ezra, what do you think? Will it hit us?”

“Oh, it’s definitely going to hit us. The weather service projects we’ll get a good pounding for a few hours, which quite upsets my plans.”

“Your plans?” I asked. “Did you have dinner reservations on the patio?”

I was pleased to see Sophie smile, but Ezra replied, “No, something rather more exciting than that. How are you two feeling? Any serious injuries?”

“I’m alright,” I answered, then looked at Sophie.

She sat up and, feeling her ankle, said, “My ankle is sore, but I don’t think it’s sprained. I’ll be able to move, but not very quickly.”

“Would you mind if I check it?” I asked.

“Of course, I don’t mind, John,” she replied.

“I’m sorry you got hurt, Sophie,” Ezra said.

“Oh, it’s my fault,” she said with a self-accusatory laugh.

Gently taking her foot in my hands, I felt for swelling and tested her range of motion. I confirmed she could probably hobble along, but we should get it elevated as soon as possible.

“All the more reason we must act now,” Ezra said. “But before we retreat to the engine, I’d like to lock this band of thieves in their car. They’ll be leaving us in a couple of hours at Kansas City, and I’d prefer they arrive at their destination contained. I’ve been thinking of new a plan. It will take a lot more daring, but it just might work if you two think you can manage it.”

“Well, that depends on what we have to do,” I said.

Ezra explained his scheme, and it seemed ludicrously brazen. Yet the sky was darkening rapidly, and I desperately wanted to get Sophie safely into the Phoenix Fire. It would be dangerous to wait for the thieves to finish their business before we took cover. The rain would pelt us like rubber bullets, not to mention the threats of hail and lightning.

I decided it was worth a shot, but before confirming with Ezra, I asked Sophie what she thought.

“Sounds like fun to me,” she said, her bravado obviously false, accompanied by a weak smile.

“Okay, Ezra, we’re willing to play your game,” I told him. “I hope it works.”

He responded somewhat breathlessly, “Good. I’ve worked my way down to you on top of the cars. Fortunately, the last launch brought in good boxcars.”

“You what?” I asked, shocked. “You’re jumping the gaps on the top?”

“It’s fine, John. The jump isn’t the issue; it’s the stopping afterward. It’s a much faster way to travel, but really only good for going down the train. How do you think I got to the harvester before you?”

I was appalled. I couldn’t imagine being on top and jumping.

“This darkness is helping,” Ezra said. “And no one seems interested in looking up. Okay, one guy is passing you now. I’ll come down on the starboard side; you go to the port.”

“Port?” I asked. “You mean my right?”

“I don’t know, John. Which way are you facing? If you’re facing backward, then yes, your right.”

I looked at Sophie and asked her, “Okay. Are you ready, Sophie?” We had crawled up the beams to the front of the car, ready to come out. She nodded.

“Switch your channels,” Ezra said.

We did so and immediately heard more breathing, the wind, and someone unknown to us speaking. “I don’t know, Kev. Looks pretty dark. I don’t want to get caught out in this.”

Another voice began to respond, but Ezra’s voice cut him off. “This is the U.S. Marshals Service. I want you all to stop where you are and hold in place. You are under arrest and will be detained and identified as soon as an agent reaches you. Any attempt to flee and or assault an agent will lead to further charges.” His tone was firm and commanding.

Sophie and I climbed out onto the catwalk. I glanced to my left and saw Ezra making the transition on the other side of our car before disappearing from view. Knowing we had to do the same, I stood as tall as I could, projecting confidence, and began marching down the car toward the thieves.

There was a moment of radio silence, then confused exclamations as the six thieves scrambled to understand what was happening. Ezra pressed them, saying, “Johnson, send three of your people up each side of the train from the rear engine. Burdock, are you moving down from the front?”

“I have two guys with me,” I stammered, feeling far less confident than Ezra. “And… Marsha is on the other side with… Walker.” I felt my performance was lacking, but Sophie stepped in. “That’s right, Sampson. We’re heading down the Möbius. We have two perps in sight.”

“Good, secure them at once. Do not let any of them make it back to their car. Do you hear that, team? Get to them before they reach their car. If they lock themselves in, they’re as good as gone.”

I continued striding forward, certain that at any moment the thieves would call our bluff. The two in sight of Sophie and me were at the far end of our car, only thirty feet away, and surely they could see that, despite our dark jackets, there was nothing formal about our appearance. However, Ezra’s line about not letting them reach the car seemed to work perfectly, as they both immediately began heading down the train toward it.

Ezra kept up the talking, using multiple voices very effectively. “Sergeant, we are outbound, ETA three minutes. The storm is looking pretty bad. Do you have the suspects secured yet? We need to make this a quick pick-up; we can’t stay in the air with this much wind.”

“Roger that. We’re making progress. Jackson, are all ten of your people out of the forward engine yet? We need everyone on the walkway now. Garrison, how many people do you have on the roofs?”

“Six, sir. The snipers are placed and ready. Just give us the word, sir.”

Ezra continued with his convincing act, and at one point, I found even I had looked to the sky expecting to see a helicopter. Emboldened by the retreating thieves and Ezra’s verbal barrage, Sophie and I moved forward. I knew her ankle must be hurting, but she was striding forward solidly.

Suddenly, Ezra’s natural voice came through strong: “Spencer, it looks like Wood might need backup. Get over to car thirty-two at once.” This caught my attention; he had used my real name along with part of his. Did he actually need help?

Sophie and I had made it down several cars and had seen our two thieves duck into their own boxcar, sliding the door closed. We could hear them talking. “How many are there?” “I saw at least three.” “They have a helicopter coming?” “They have snipers.” Their voices overlapped, creating a chaotic cacophony, while Ezra maintained his own steady stream. “We have quite a headwind here; I expect you have all those people ready for pickup at once.”

Then there was a grunt, followed by a thud, and more grunting and heavy breathing. It didn’t sound good. Sophie and I exchanged worried glances, and I said, “I’m going to check on him. Stay here.”

We were at the end of a cargo car with a rear catwalk where we could cross over. Pulling her into this out-of-sight space, I moved to the other side and looked down the train. Ezra had moved much faster than us; he was two cars ahead, locked in a heated grapple with one of the thieves. I could hear their struggling.

The thief struck Ezra, knocking him back, then rushed at him, forcing him against the railing. Ezra pushed back, grabbing and straining. For a moment, it looked like they both might go over the edge. Then Ezra found his footing, and with a groan I could hear through my helmet, he forced the man back and struck him in the chest. It was a hard blow; I heard the thief’s pained grunt. Yet he was a fierce opponent, recovering quickly and lunging forward once more. Ezra dodged, and the reckless man nearly fell from the Möbius, slamming into the rail and pitching forward.

Ezra caught hold of the man’s leg as it went up in the air, dragging him back, and they fell together in a jumble onto the catwalk. Despite Ezra’s having saved his life, the thief struggled with him again, and the two rolled dangerously close to the edge.

I hurried forward as fast as I could, their wrestling filling my ears. I was nearly upon them when they suddenly broke apart. The thief saw me, turned, and fled, leaping wildly across the gaps between the cars. Ezra stood up and immediately set off after him, with me hot on his heels. But Ezra clearly wasn’t trying very hard; I could easily keep up with him. The man made it to his car, where two of his companions yanked him in and quickly slid the door shut. For a few moments, we could hear a burble of voices asking if everyone was in the car, urging to hurry and lock the doors, and then they went silent, evidently having taken their helmets off.

“Hurry,” Ezra said frantically. “Hurry, John.” Despite our recent success, we continued hurrying down the train. Now that his quarry was cornered, Ezra seemed determined to ensure they couldn’t escape.

He reached the thieves’ car, banging on the steel and threatening menacingly in his Marshall's voice. Then he slipped off his backpack and produced two cable tie-down mechanisms. Leaving one at the walkway for me, he took the other in hand and scaled the front of their car to the other side, as there was no connecting walkway.

As I approached the car, I kept an eye on the door, nervously fearing someone might open it. Ezra continued with his ploy, likely in case anyone was still listening. “Sergeant, we are here. Where are the prisoners?”

I hurriedly picked up the mechanism, a metal box about the size of my two fists, with heavy steel hooks protruding from either end. I secured the first hook to the rail at the end of the car, then pressed the cable release button on the mechanism, walking toward the door as the steel cable fed from the box. Just as I clipped the hook onto the handle, the key panel lit up and the door popped open.

An angry face with bloodshot eyes looked out; it was the man Ezra had struggled with, and he seemed still to suspect Ezra’s ruse. Seeing me, he yanked the door open further, but the cable allowed him only four or five inches. I fumbled for the button marked “retract,” fearful the thief might realize what was happening and simply unhook the handle. He seemed to do just that, for his hand reached out toward the hook, but I found the button just in time. The small electric motor began winching the cable into the box, drawing it tight and pulling the door closed. I pulled too, fighting the man. His hand scrabbled at the hook for a moment, but soon retreated as the door was winched shut. Once the cable was tight, I let go of the button, feeling relieved. Then I worried that maybe Ezra hadn’t been as successful.

I moved to the end of the car, dreading that I might have to scale it as well, but instead, I saw Ezra looking across at me with a smile. “Good work, John. Excellent!”

I breathed a heavy sigh of relief, feeling utterly exhausted. But looking beyond Ezra, I saw the baleful sky, heavy and dark, punctuated by searing flashes of lightning. “Let’s get to the engine,” I said frantically, taking off at once up the train. I spotted Sophie ahead and waved to her. “Head to the engine!” She immediately set off, hobbling now that the pretense was no longer required. Dust was blown across the Möbius in great hurrying shrouds and the trees thrashed and bowed and lightening cracked and sizzled and on we ran dreading the oncoming tempest.

Soon I saw Ezra, just ahead of me, cross over to our side of the train. He waited for me a moment looking to the black cloud that blotted out the sky, then we went on together. We caught up with Sophie, but still had several cars to go when the first drops of rain struck my visor like pellets. We each put an arm around her, pressing on together. Lightning split the dark sky, and thunder boomed, loud enough to drown out the wind in my ears.

At last, we reached the Phoenix Fire and fell inside, knowing the full tumult of the storm was just moments away. Indeed, even as we slid the door closed, we could hear the fierce roar of the water unleashed upon us, as if we had passed beneath a waterfall. But now we could laugh and enjoy it, for we were safe, and the thieves were contained.