Lights of a town fought out of the storm. The station keeper for Rush City stood on his platform and watched the onrushing light of the relief train with concern. Thank God no one was out this night. That train was pushing sixty miles an hour.

He pulled his watch from a waist pocket and checked the time as the train burst past the station in clouds of snow and steam. Ice hanging on the cold steel reflected in the lights of the station, giving the only animation to the train. Only as the caboose passed him did he see it covered the caboose windows with frost that trapped the warm light of the brakeman’s perch.

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He hurried to his station and entered the warmth that brought drowsiness on its heels. It was damn cold outside.

Rushing to the telegraph, he wired the time to the Pine City station. Between the stations, they could determine how fast the train was going; maybe they could warn them and avert a disaster.

A blind train was traveling at high speed on one of the coldest nights of the year in the middle of a winter storm of epic proportions; it was a wreck waiting to happen.