The Beast Within - Emile Zola [226]
‘Lay your hands off me, or I’ll hit you! I like it when we go fast!’
The train was now travelling at full speed along the level section between Bolbec and Motteville. Apart from pausing to take on water, it was scheduled to run non-stop to Paris. The huge train, eighteen wagons crammed with their cargo of human livestock, raced through the darkened landscape, its wheels pounding continually on the track. As the train carried the men towards their grim fate, they sang at the top of their voices, so loud that their singing drowned the clatter of the wheels.
Jacques shut the firebox door with his foot and put the injector on. He was still managing to restrain himself.
‘The fire’s too big,’ he shouted. ‘You’re drunk. Get some sleep.’
Pecqueux immediately reopened the firebox door and frantically shovelled on more coal, as if he were determined to make the engine explode. This was open defiance; he was deliberately disobeying him, and in his blind fury completely disregarding the lives of the men in the train behind them. Jacques leaned forward to close the damper in order to lessen the draught to the fire. Suddenly Pecqueux grabbed hold of him, pushing him backwards, trying to topple him and throw him out on to the line.
‘So that’s your game, you swine!’ Jacques shouted. ‘You’d have said I’d fallen off, wouldn’t you, you cunning bastard!’
Jacques had managed to catch hold of the side of the tender. The two men fell to the floor, and the struggle continued on the metal footplate as it lurched violently from side to side. They clenched their teeth and fought in silence, each trying to fling the other through the narrow opening in the side of the cab, which was protected by nothing more than a handrail. There was scarcely room to move, and the train rushed ahead at full speed. It ran through Barentin and plunged into the Malaunay tunnel, with the two men still locked together, on their backs in the coal, banging their heads against the water tank and trying to avoid the red-hot firebox door, which burned their legs every time they touched it.
At one point, Jacques thought that if he could get to his feet he would close the regulator and sound the whistle to call for help, so that someone could rescue him from this madman, driven crazy with drink and jealousy. But he was getting weaker and, being the smaller of the two, he knew he didn’t have the strength to throw Pecqueux off him. He was beaten and could already feel the wind tugging at his hair as Pecqueux pushed him towards the edge of the footplate. With one last desperate effort he stretched out his hand, feeling for something to cling to. Pecqueux realized what he was trying to do, raised himself on to his knees and lifted Jacques up like a child.
‘So you’ve had enough, have you! You stole my woman and you’re going to get what you deserve!’
The train rushed on, thundering out of the tunnel and continuing its headlong progress through the dreary, deserted countryside. It swept through Malaunay like a whirlwind, so fast that the deputy stationmaster, who was standing on the platform, did not see the two men grappling with each other as it went hurtling past.
With a final lunge, Pecqueux pushed Jacques from the footplate. Jacques, feeling nothing behind him, clung desperately to Pecqueux’s neck, holding on to him so tightly that he dragged him out with him. There were two terrible screams, uttered simultaneously and quickly silenced. As they fell from the train, they were dragged beneath its wheels by the speed at which it was travelling. The two men, who had for so long lived together as brothers, were cut to pieces, locked together in their terrible embrace. The mangled bodies were later discovered, their heads and feet severed, still clasped together as if trying to strangle each other.
The locomotive, now completely out of control, continued on its precipitous course. At last she could have her own way and give reign to her youthful high spirits, like an untamed horse that has escaped