Chapter 16: The Aftermath

October 9th, 1995, 1:42 AM MST, Mile 2502, 23 miles east of Hyder, AZ

Jill slowly wrenched open her eyes. It hurt. Everything hurt. Everything hurt a lot. She felt hot stickiness and a lot of weight on her and realized that George was laying on top of her. They had been making love on the bed, she about to hit the throws of ecstasy, and then everything stopped. No hints, no vague feelings, no fuzzy ideas. Blank.

She remembered nothing of what happened. One moment she was moaning George’s name, and anticipating the warm flow of his seed into her, the next she was here. She was extremely confused; she couldn’t even get her bearings. Nothing seemed right at all about where she was. She wanted to get the heavy weight of George off of her, but it was taking all her effort just to regain her senses.

As she became more conscious, she carefully examined her surroundings and realized that the lights were out. Completely out. She couldn’t even see the corridor lights coming through the curtains. That was odd; they were always at least partially on, even when the locomotive was pulled off. She had never seen a train completely and totally dark before. Everything was silent. The train was not moving.

But that wasn’t the only thing that was off, and she concentrated on her surroundings trying to figure out exactly what was totally wrong. Little snippets started to come to her as she was feeling out this bizarre state of affairs. The first was that through the window she could see only the stars; from where her head was, she should be able to see the Arizona desert horizon through the window.

The second thing was that there was no cushion under her, possibly explaining what felt like a bruise on her back. Once she considered this idea, she realized that she was oriented totally wrong. She was laying on the wall between her room and the corridor, partially on the room’s door. The reality of the situation finally dawned on her, bringing her fully conscious as reality seared into her mind: The train car was on its side! They had wrecked!

She squirmed her way out from under George, who to her horror wasn’t moving. She was against the room’s siding door, and was a bit uncomfortable about how much weight it could hold. She was fairly confident she was covered in spatters of blood; it was hard to tell in the dim light provided by the moon and stars. Her personal exploration of herself didn’t feel like she had anything worse than bruising.

She assumed, then, that the blood was from George. That caused bile to come up in her throat, which she swallowed back down, because now was a time for calm, to solve problems, not to be upset about things she couldn’t do anything about. She’d have time for that later. Her first order of business was to check on her life partner and wake him up ... if he could wake up - she shuddered at the implications of him not being able to, but forced her calm to return yet again.

She shook him hard. She felt his breathing, which was a good sign. She shook him some more, meanwhile becoming aware of moans of pain and groans coming from the other people in the car. That was a good sign. People need to be alive to make noise. Meanwhile, George slowly started to respond to her touch. That was a good sign, too. He had to be alive to respond.

Slowly his eyes came open. She kissed him on the lips, and he woke up more. She saw he had a few cuts from unknown reasons. It was clearly his blood on her, but it didn’t look like any of the cuts were more than superficial, at least that’s what her hopeful mind saw in the near non-existent light. It was partially believing what she wanted to believe. Finally, he stirred more, and groaned loudly.

“Jesus Christ, I feel like I have been run over by a truck, why does this stuff happen to me?” he kvetched grumpily.

Jill smiled. He was alive, and more importantly, he was himself. The most important thing, at least to her, was ok.

Engineer Christopher Jacobs was completely uninjured. He had been thrown off his seat, but hadn’t been hurt. He groggily got up and grabbed the radio microphone. He hadn’t seen what happened but he needed to call in help anyway, if just to talk about the fact that the train was stopped on the track and would need to be inspected. He had no idea what had happened, although he logically assumed that the train had derailed. The jink of the rail was too great to not assume otherwise.

“Amtrak 1 to dispatch, we have an emergency, come in, over.” He had to call in twice before the dispatcher groggily replied. This was actually a decent response time from the dispatcher on this stretch of track, so he was actually a bit relieved.

“Go ahead, Amtrak 1, you said emergency? Over,” the voice came back, unexcited and very groggy. Chris assumed it was more that he had been asleep than an abundance of sangfroid.

“Affirmative, we passed over jinked rail at CP2502, damage unknown. No information from Conductor, assume incapacitated. Please alert emergency response, over.”

“Copy that Amtrak 1, send assistance CP2502, mark jinked rail. Investigate conditions and confirm, over.”

“Acknowledged, assistance to CP2502, jink marked, will investigate, Amtrak 1 over and out.”

Chris Jacobs climbed achy and shakily down from the engine and was immediately stunned by what he saw. The trailing locomotive was slightly derailed; the baggage car was off the rails and tilted substantially. Then the bad stuff started. The Coach-dorm was sitting completely on its side, but that was only being used as a crew dormitory, thankfully. This stuff concerned him, but that wasn’t what was making the bile rise in his throat.

He was more concerned, with what he didn’t see. He didn’t see the first sleeper, or any of the other cars that were supposed to be behind it. With fear in his body, he ran as fast as he could to the edge of the ravine. He felt sick. Laying on the floor of the ravine were the first two sleepers; the dining car was resting on the floor of the ravine and hanging off the bridge at the same time. The lounge car and first coach were off the rails at crazy angles. He couldn’t see anymore from this side, but he knew what he needed to - they needed all the help they could get, immediately.

He ran back to the P32 as fast as he could, raced up the ladder, and grabbed the microphone, and he screamed the whole situation into the microphone, unintelligibly in terrified panic. All engineers have grade crossing wrecks, many experience minor derailments. This wasn’t one of those. He was standing as the only reachable employee in a severe derailment, certainly with heavy injuries, and likely fatalities.

“Whoa, Amtrak 1, calm down and repeat. I did not copy that. Repeat, did not copy, over.”

Chris slowly calmed himself down and then managed to regain the calm and clear detached voice he needed to impart the information to the dispatcher. It was hard. He was sick and he was panicking. He knew people had to be seriously hurt or even dead. It was hard to talk slowly and calmly in the circumstances, but he had to. People’s lives likely depended on that.

“Sorry, dispatch. Here is what I know. The baggage car is just off the rails and leaning. The dormitory car is on its side. The sleepers are laying on their side in a ravine. The diner is hanging off the bridge and resting partially on the ravine floor. The lounge and the first coach are off the rails leaning heavily, possibly precariously. I can not see the rest of the train from this location.”

It took a moment for the dispatcher to respond. He could imagine the dispatcher sitting there picturing the scene and also panicking.

“I think I copy, Amtrak 1. Locomotives are ok, the first car is just off the rails, car 2 is on its side, 3 and 4 are in the ravine, 5 is dangling off the bridge, 6 and 7 are off the rails and leaning, and the rest are unknown.”

“Affirmative, first just off, 2 on side, 3 and 4 in ravine, 5 dangling, 6 and 7 leaning, rest unknown. Please send help as soon as possible, over.”

“Roger that, I will send help as soon as possible, over.”

As he waited, Jacobs felt like he was having a panic attack. His heart was pumping, his adrenaline coursing through his brain, his fear ruling him. He had been in control of this train, and it had wrecked. Maybe if he had seen the rail sooner, he could have stopped in time. He felt responsible. A few minutes later, and it seemed like an eternity to Jacobs, the dispatcher radioed back.

“Amtrak 1, this is dispatch, come in.”

“Dispatch, this is Amtrak 1, over.”

“As many safety vehicles as possible are converging on your site, but it will take some time for them to reach you, possibly several hours. A few choppers are lifting off from the military base nearby and should be with you in 20 to 30 minutes, over.”

“Thank you dispatch, assistance acknowledged.”

Hours! Jacobs had never felt so powerless.

Miguel woke up. He also knew something was wrong, but it took him a moment to figure out exactly what. He eventually realized that the car was leaning at an angle of about 35°, which didn’t seem like it was something that would happen in normal operation. This was also backed up by the lack of lighting and the fact that the train was not moving. He reached the only conclusion he could, which was that the train had somehow gotten derailed.

There were no crew around to try and help with the situation; he didn’t know how long the train had been derailed. He also was not aware that all of the crew had been asleep or resting in the crew car at the front of the train, which was entirely on its side, and that the crew were dealing with their own dire emergency, and none of them were in a capacity to come and help passengers in the relatively safe cars such as his coach. What assistance they could offer would be offered to the two sleepers laying on their side.

He looked around and realized that Sharon was not there, and that the kids were ok, but terrified. The second part was good, the first part terrifying. The kids gathered around him looking for him to take charge and worrying about where mommy was. He decided the first thing he had to do was get them off the train. Once he got them off the train, Jimmy could watch over them; he was practically an adult, and they were all responsible enough that he needn’t worry about them.

It would seem logical to go to the side of the car that was leaning lower, but he didn’t trust the lean angle of the tall car. He was afraid that with weight shifting, it might crash down onto the ground. So he chose instead to get them off on the higher side. He walked up the relatively steep floor and got to the window on the side facing the sky. He pulled the rubber seal off and yanked the window out. He helped the children, who were scared as he had ever seen them, climb out the window and told them to walk across the tracks and stand about 15 feet away from the train and wait for him.

He walked along the lower side of the car until he got to the door to the vestibule. He first tried to punch the door opening button, but due to the power being cut off it didn’t work. He grabbed on to the manual handle put all his weight on the door which then opened about half way. With a better grip, he managed to pull it down to the open position and climb through. He was fighting the doors automatic closing force, and it had required more work than he thought it would.

With the way the car was situated, the handicap bathroom was on the upper side, so he decided to try that one last. He went to each bathroom and opened the doors. They all opened easily. Nobody was inside. He walked up the edge and went back to the handicap bathroom. It was locked. Somebody was in there, so he may as well help them, whoever they were. It was likely Sharon, though.

Searching around the car he found an axe, presumably used to break open windows if need be. He grabbed it and climbed back into the hallway. With all his might he swung at the locked area of the door. Who cares if Amtrak’s property is damaged? he thought to himself. He cut off the lock and opened the door.

On the floor was a bloody Sharon. He climbed into the bathroom, and realized the door was going to keep being a problem; he used the axe to chop the door off its hinges. The whole door fell with a loud crash. It was scary sounding, but shockingly nobody had been coming down the stairs yet. Perhaps they were scared to move from there. He had been worried that the falling door would hit somebody, but it hadn’t.

Sharon was unconscious, entirely. He couldn’t rouse her; she was dead to the world. His heart was heavy until he saw that she was breathing. He took her pulse, and it came on strong and vibrant. She must have some kind of concussion, but it didn’t seem like it would be a deadly one if they got her medical attention. It was really bad, but it certainly could have been worse.

He moved her body to the edge of the bathroom, and let her lean on the bathroom wall for a moment. He undid the big and heavy latches and opened the big, heavy stainless steel door. He realized that somehow the designer of the car had not thought about this particular problem, because the door was in the way of getting her out of the car. He picked her up and had trouble carrying her.

Jimmy had apparently disobeyed his instructions, because he reached into the car and said: “Here, I’ll help you.”

Between the two of them they managed to get her out of the car, and laid her down on the sand well clear of the tracks. By this time other people were starting to get out of the car, thank god. They didn’t know how long it would be until help arrived on the scene. Miguel was scared; he was worried that she might have some internal bleeding or something in her head. He didn’t know how long she would have.

But he forced himself to be cold, calm, collected, and objective. The most objective thing was that there was absolutely nothing he could do but wait for help. He had done all he could; he felt powerless, but he had to be strong. The kids were depending on him for strength and hope, and he had to ensure that he provided it for them. So he stayed calm, and told them she would be fine, she just needed to sleep a while.

Miguel finally took the time to look at the rest of the train. Behind his car, everything was still on the track, and there was a crowd of people disembarking the train in wonderment of what had happened. In front of his car, the lounge car was tilted, and the dining car seemed to be falling off the world. He told Jimmy to stay put and watch Sharon, and then walked forward.

Once he got to the ravine, he felt even sicker. The two sleepers were in the ravine, and completely on their side. There was another car on its side, and the baggage car was off the rails. He knew that their new friends from the lounge car were in one of the sleepers. He prayed that they were alright. He wished he could go and try and find them and help them, but he knew he didn’t have the tools or ability. His job was to stay here and watch out for Sharon’s family.

Josh woke up to George shaking him. George had helped Jill through the window onto the side of the car; they were lucky the side of the car reaching for the sky was the bedroom window side. When they were both outside the car, George looked into Josh and Akilah’s room and saw Josh laying unconscious in the room through the window, and had gone back in to his room.