The heat in the cab was stifling, bringing pain to Karl’s frostbite and burns, but he left the upper hatch closed, any ice still on the windows disappearing fast.

Forty miles to Cloquet, maybe less, it was not much time. He had to push the engine to its limits and make the train fly on the tracks.

Karl could feel the train strain against the abuse he was handing it, but they needed to exceed sixty miles an hour. He adjusted the coal feed and the steam settings for a few minutes, then baited the trap. Reaching up, Karl pulled the whistle lanyard. The train howled; a soulful cry heard by the people of Sandstone.

A strange scream of rage replied to the train, the cry frightening people in the town, many of them fearful of the devil in the night.

This was the part of the idea that depended on the demon, but Karl suspected he was right. He pulled the whistle cord again.

The train screamed, the long mournful cry breaking out into the night. Sounding more human than mechanical, mourning for the locomotive and the man driving her.

It happened abruptly. One moment there was nothing but a storm ahead of the train, then the creature once again stood on the tracks.

Again, the locomotive hit it, but this time it climbed up the face of the engine and stood atop the boiler with determination. If anything, its eyes burned brighter with anger.

Karl could see the cold claiming the boiler as the demon walked over the top, impervious to the storm and wind.

Standing close to his seat, Karl watched the tarp while holding the long handle of the firebox door. Coal rattled as the demon jumped from the roof of the cab to land in the hopper. The tarp grew stiff in a flash, then beginning to ice over as the air in the cab grew frigid. Atop the tarp, white frost and ice rapidly grew into the cab.

Footsteps hit the steel plate, joining the locomotive and tender as solid ice grew on the tarp in the blink of an eye.

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Swinging his free hand, Karl hit the tarp with Silas’s hammer, cracking the remaining cords free. The tarp tilted away from the cab, caught the wind, ripped from the cab, slashing at the demon as it flew high above the train on the night wind.

Giving a mighty heave, Karl swung the door arm, opening both firebox doors wide. The blast of heat seemed to set his side on fire. The creature screamed again, drawing back from the heat, seeming to shiver in the waves of air, its face contorted in agony.

Knocking the access hatch cover into the wind, Karl climbed out of the cab to hunch exposed on the roof of the locomotive. Facing the wind, he forced his way to the steam dome, his wet gloves hissing as they hit the hot steel of the boiler.

Clattering, the demon landed on the top of the cab and stared foully at Karl. A quick glance over his shoulder told the engineer the time to forget caution had arrived. Rising to his feet, he leaped forward to the glistening brass atop the steam dome. Locking his hands on the pressure relief valve, he swung in a heavy arc, his feet almost touching the spinning drive wheels. The creature walked towards Karl, its coat flapping in the wind, the metal hissing as the frost tried to gain a hold on the boiler, wisps of steam coming from its feet.

There was no more time. Holding the base of the valve with one hand, Karl reached to his belt and pulled the hammer free. Swinging the hammer, he attacked the relief valve. The valve tilted as metal bent to the blow. Pulling back his arm, Karl aimed another blow as the demon stopped next to the steam dome and looked down at its victim. Karl could feel the muscles of his body tighten to ice, but he was already swinging the hammer.

The brass valve sheared from the dome with a ringing and steam shot into the air, enveloping the demon in a cloud of heated vapor.

Once again, the creature screamed. It tried to move away from the heat, but the wind and speed of the train kept the steam low and tight to the train. There was no escape for the monster.

Somehow, Karl caught the second valve as he fell, his feet bumping on the top of the drive wheel. The mercy of the cold was he could not feel the burns he knew must cover his arm and face. Tiredly, he pulled his feet to the catwalk and rose while steadying himself on the thick handrail.

The demon was gone. Only a cloud of steam remained as the boiler vented.

Reaching in his pocket, Karl pulled Silas’s wooden wedge out, then held it atop the ruptured pipe of the dome and hit the wood with the hammer. His strength waned but enough for the task. A wedge of wood drove into the pipe and caught, sealing the steam leak, and allowing the engine to build pressure.

The trip back to the cab seemed to take forever. Once there the engineer worked to keep the steam up and make it to Cloquet.

People were nearing death in Cloquet.