Fistful of Reefer: A Pulpy Action Series from Schism 8

Lighting the Fuse

Wind tugged at Chancho’s sombrero. The time had come. The deteriorating railroad ties of the alternate track blurred beneath Chancho’s feet. He cracked the heel of his boot hard on the coupling. Ah Puch steadied Chancho as he twisted the heel 90 degrees, and with a quick yank, ripped the heel from the rest of the boot.

A phosphorus and potassium-covered fuse trailed from the detached heel. The friction of the tug had sparked it to life. After Chancho slapped the magnetized metal of the heel directly onto the coupling, Ah Puch pulled him onto the platform of the armored freight car.

On cue, Emilio and Jorge leapt from the top of the feed and grain car to the top of the armored car. The magnets in their boots clanked onto the metal roof loudly. With one last glance at the burning fuse, Chancho flicked his spurs from their usual resting place until they were underneath the soles of his boots. The sharp tips now protruded out the front.

Quickly Emilio and Jorge laid down on the roof and dangled their arms over the back edge. Clasping at the wrists, they heaved Ah Puch and Chancho up to join them, and just in the nick of time.

The metal door of the armored car slid open. “They’re on the roof!” a voice barked. Then the heel charge detonated, blasting apart the coupling and buffeting the train with a deafening roar.

Chancho perched with the half-moon shape of his magnetic spurs under the balls of his feet until he gained his balance on top of the train car. Finally confident in his footing, he took off at a sprint for the front of the car, his magnets clanking loudly the whole way.

Still at the back of the armored car, Jorge, Emilio and Ah Puch stood in a triangle. With Ah Puch facing the front of the train, Jorge and Emilio latched onto his arms from behind.

“Launch me, boys.” Ah Puch, the smallest of the four, flipped his legs up and over his head.

Moving as a unit, Emilio and Jorge fell to their knees and then flat on their stomachs. With their heads and arms dangling over the back edge of the train car, they slung Ah Puch careening through the opened doorway of the armored car feet first.

With his momentum carrying him into a second backflip, Ah Puch’s left boot struck flesh as his right rotated underneath him more quickly. He caught himself hands-first before gathering his knees underneath him and crashing awkwardly into a stack of vegetable crates. Muffled swearing came from nearby while Jorge and Emilio’s magnetic boots dropped onto the landing behind him. “Siesta’s over.” Ah Puch drove his fist into the gut of a nearby guard.

From the top of the train, Chancho spotted the tunnel approaching fast in the distance. Timing was critical. The wind and rocking motion of the train tried to tug him off the side, but his boots helped steady him. Finally, he reached the front of the car.

Sliding feet-first, he grabbed the lip as he went over the edge and swung down onto the landing. The sudden proximity of the closed door leading to the armored car, as well as the door across the way leading to over a hundred more Constitutional soldiers, sparked an even greater urgency in Chancho.

He gripped his remaining heel and tugged it from the sole of his boot, flicking its chemical-laden fuse to life in the process. As steadily as his nerves allowed, he stepped onto the coupling to place the charge. Before he could reach the joint, the metal door behind him slid violently open.