EXCERPT: "Through a Rain of Fire": Prologue

English countryside
September, 1934

The echoes of the train whistle faded into the distance as the engine reached a steady pace and the train snaked out of London.  Behind, the silver and mahogany-sable of the magnificent King's Cross station glinted in the bright morning sunlight.

Birds winged in speckled flocks from hedgerows as the train wound into the countryside.  Sheep lifted placid heads, interested in little but the green abundance of grass thick around them.

Inside the fourth car from the engine, two girls pushed their palms against the panes of the train window.  “It's beautiful,” said the younger.  “I loved London, but I miss the country.”

The older smiled at the mention of London.  “I suppose.  It is beautiful, but so was London.  In a different way.  All those wonderful buildings, Westminster Palace, the Houses of Commons!”

Shaking her two auburn pigtails over her shoulder, the younger girl settled back against her seat.  “I know.  We had so much fun, didn't we?”

The older girl sat back as well, her movements a odd mix of grace and awkward adolescence.  Her thin figure hinted at beauty on the way, but not arrived quite yet.  She lifted a self-conscious hand to her modishly bobbed red hair.  “I still can't believe Mum let me get my hair done.”

The younger girl snorted.  “She thought anything would be better than the poodle mop you had before.”

“You could have had your's done too, Julie!”

The girl called Julie shrugged, flipped her pigtails over her shoulders again.  “I like long hair.”  Then her face softened.  “But your cut does look nice, Liz.”

Her sister smiled at her.  “Thanks.”  She glanced out the window, then over at the aisle seats where their parents leaned against each other, mouths slightly open, heads drooped with sleep.

With mischievous cautiousness, she leaned forward.  “London was very educational, don't you think?  St. Paul's was especially interesting.”

The younger girl burst into stifled giggles.  “Do you think they guessed?”

“I hope to goodness not!  If they find I sneaked out of the hotel and then got both of us lost at night in London, I'll be grounded for years.”

“I sneaked out too,” her sister said complacently. “But it was a good thing you thought of meeting at St. Paul's beforehand.”

“You're telling me.”  The older girl clutched her short curls melodramatically.  Her sister snickered.

“Say, you know, we can use that for a...” she cast a cautious glance at their parents and lowered her voice, “a sort of code.”

“Code?”  The older girl cocked her head on the side.  “Oh, I know!  If we need to meet somewhere, just the two of us, we can say we're meeting at St. Paul's and no one will know what we mean!”

“Exactly!”  The younger girl clapped her hands.

Their father gave a started snoring gasp and her eyes widened.  The older girl's cheeks bulged with the held-in laughter.  She winked at her sister.

“I think...”

The bellow of the whistle cut off the words.  The engine slowed abruptly, sending the cars jolting together.  Suitcases, hatboxes, parcels flew across compartments, spraying their contents like innards.

Hysterical shrieks punctured the air, but in the fourth compartment, neither girl made a sound, just looked at each other, breath coming quickly.

The younger girl reached for her sister's hand.  “What was that—”

And then the world exploded around them as the engine derailed.  Torrents of steel and iron writhed like a tortured snake.  Terrified screams of agony pierced between explosions and the sizzle of molten coal as the train avalanched down the steep hill.

At the bottom of the embankment the train collapsed, cars toppled grotesquely across the smooth green banks.  Bodies lay flung around and inside.  Through the smoke and the flames the few survivors fought to escape.

And from the wreckage near car four, a tall thin girl stumbled out, blood streaking her red curls as she dug through the rubble, screaming over and over and over for her sister.