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Kotze the moment that the boer fired. The bullet passed under Flint's arm as his body struck Kotze and the boer dropped the detonator and gun as he went down under the soldier. Locked together the big powerful men rolled over and over on the tracks swopping blows. But neither could manage to get much weight behind their punches. Then Kotze get his hands around the soldier's throat. Flint tried to break the boer's death-grip and bucking and twisting his body desperately, at last managed to get his hands around Kotze's head. He pulled, muscles straining and the boer felt his neck being bent back. Aware that this very powerful man could snap his neck like a twig, Kotze released his grip on Flint's throat and grabbed the soldier's wrists. Both men's huge biceps bulged and trembled as they fought to break each other's grip. Inexorably Kotze's head was pulled back and it was the sweat pouring from him that saved him. Flint's hands slipped and he lost his grip. The boer drove his elbows back into Flint's belly and rolling free, sprung to his feet. And beaten and weakened though he was, Flint was up an instant later. Kotze threw a punch to Flint's head but the soldier seemed hardly to notice as he waded in delivering two blows to the body that made the boer reel. Flint came at him again and Kotze tried to bring his knee up into the naked soldier's low swinging balls. Flint sidestepped and swung a haymaker at Kotze's jaw. The boer stumbled backwards and Flint watched in horror as he toppled onto the detonator. The explosion was like a sharp crack of thunder and huge pieces of wood were flung into the air as the far end of the bridge tumbled down into the gorge. First to recover, Kotze snatched up the gun and fired at the gaping soldier.
The bullet hummed past Flint's ear, bringing him to his senses. He turned and made off down the track as fast as his battered body would carry him. Kotze fired and missed again. But his third shot took the soldier in the shoulder. He saw Flint stagger to a halt and sway for a moment before vanishing down the side of the embankment. He ran to the point where the soldier has disappeared and gazed down. It was very steep but the young trees offered plenty of holds for hands and feet. Tucking his gun into his belt, Kotze stepped carefully over the edge and began to lower himself. Below him he could hear Flint crashing to the bottom. He'd hunt the naked soldier down like an animal.Then his mind turned to the coming carnage on the bridge and he smiled to himself. He didn't give his dead colleagues a second's thought. Reaching the bottom, he saw Flint running away from the bridge and along the embankment, and sprinted over the veldt to the trees where they had left their horses. Unhitching his mount, he climbed into the saddle, and cantered after Flint.
By the time he had the naked soldier within range, Flint had cleared the embankment and was running alongside the railway line. Kotze took his horse up onto the track and riding along between the rails, fired a shot at Flint, who veered off into the scrub. Ahead Kotze saw smoke and felt a surge of elation. The train was coming. He rode down off the line and fired again at Flint, forcing him even further away from the track. The train was appoaching fast. Time now, he thought to finish this and dug his heels into his horses flanks. Kotze quickly drew level with Flint and, swinging his horse round, rode straight at him.
Kotze's horse struck Flint and reared up almost unseating him. He quickly calmed the startled
animal and slid from the saddle. The soldier lay spreadeagled on the ground and, as Kotze approached he groaned and lifted himself up onto his elbows. Kotze kicked him in the face and knelt, straddling the semiconscious soldier. "Hear that khaki, he train will be on the bridge soon." Flint made no reply but his dark eyes glared up at Kotze, who ripped open his flies and pulled out his engorged cock. You're going to have a foot of Afrikaaner meat up your arse, you fucking whore khaki, when your mates go down into the gorge. He waved his stiff cock in Flint's face and suddenly the solder raised his head again and bit into the thick shaft. He drew back and blood spurted from the deep wound. Kotze shrieked and, as he thrashed about in panic, trying to stem the blood gushing from his cock, Flint got to his knees and snatched the gun from the boer's belt. He was so weak he needed both hands to aim the gun a Kotze before he put the last two bullets into his chest. The boer's screams ceased and Flint could again hear the train. Flinging down the gun, he hauled himself to his feet, gasping with pain, and began a shambling run towards the railway track. He waved his arms and pointed to the bridge. The train had passed him but he staggered on until his feet tangled in the undergrowth and he pitched forward onto his face. Too late he thought as he spiralled down into darkness.
At the end of the train, a young officer lounged against the open window, in a futile attempt to get cool. Suddenly, as if from nowhere, a naked man appeared, covered in blood. He chased after the train gesticulating wildly and pointing to the brige ahead. The officer stared open-mouthed, the gasped as he saw that the man was wearing army cavalry boots. As an awful premonition began to dawn on him, the officer saw the naked man fall. The British soldier was warning them of something up ahead, he reasoned, and he shoved his head out of the window. Then he saw the approaching bridge, and he knew. Its the bridge he thought, I've got to stop the train. He pushed past a dozing soldier, climbed over his kit and pulled the emergency cord. Nothing happened. Sabotaged he realized, like everything else the bloody boers could get their hands on. He had to think fast. He'd never get through the jampacked train in time, but he could send a message. Shaking awake the soldiers around he shouted, "I think the bridge up yonder is mined and we've got to stop the train."
"Gawd Sir, what shall we do?"
"We'll pass the message to the driver like we used to in the game we played at school."
"Right you are Sir, listen lads. The bridge is mined, stop the train. Right pass it on to the driver."
The officer heard the message being sent, with added expletives, rapidly up the train and looked out of the window again. The train was now on the embankment and to jump from here would mean certain death. He hoped they had time.
The bridge was only yards ahead when the driver was given the message, loud and clear. "The fucking bridge is minded, stop the bloody train." As the fireman clanged shut the firebox door, he applied the brakes. The train gave a jolt and slowed as the engine's locked wheels screeched like a banshee. But it continued to move across the bridge, propelled by the tremendous weight of the packed carriages and the driver saw that the last trestle was gone and only the metal rails spanned the gap. Slower and slower the engine came and out onto the unsupported rails. For several incredible seconds they held, then sagged down and gave way. Very gently the engine tipped into the gap and became wedged between the broken wooden supports. Immediately the troops began an orderly evacuation, unaware that they were a hair's breadth from death.
There were still more than fifty men on the train, together with the fireman and driver when the supports shifted and the engine slipped further into the gap. There was a tremendous jolt which flung some of the men to their knees. Then they carried on trotting briskly along the train and leaping down onto the bridge. When the supports finally gave way, the engine plummeted down into the gorge, dragging the now empty carriages with it. The train hit the rocks with an earsplitting crash and the squeal of tearing metal put the watching men's teeth on edge. Then the engine's boiler burst and the sound of the explosion, amplified by the walls of the gorge, was truly deafening.
As clouds of steam hid the horrific scene of destruction in the gorge, the young officer rounded up a dozen men he knew and they ran down to the bottom of the embankment and back along the track.
When they reached the point where the officer thought he'd seen the naked soldier he halted the men and spaced them out in a line parallel to the track. Then they moved forward slowly and found the unconscious soldier in a matter of minutes. The officer gathered Flint into the crook of his arm and wiped the blood from his face before forcing a little water between his battered lips. Flint moaned and opened his eyes."Its all right soldier, we lost the train but all the men are safe." Flint moaned again and his head dropped forward. "Don't sleep yet soldier," the officer said and gently lifted Flint's head. "Were you alone? Were there any more of you?" Flint's eyes opened for a moment and he said, his voice little more than a croak "Yes back there...dead." He weakly waved his arm in the direction of the tree and his head slumped forward again.
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