Allie, still strapped to the front of the train, was the first to inch out over the bridge as the train pulled forward, challenging the Everlost wind with the brute force of its engine. It roared at full steam, and although the wind struggled to hold it back, it was no match for such a powerful machine.

In just a few minutes the train crossed the river, rolled onto a dead rail line on the river’s far side, and chugged forward with Allie unwillingly leading the way into the vast Western unknown.

CHAPTER 39
At the Moment of Madness

Everyone living in Memphis remembers where they were when the Union Avenue Bridge was taken down. The evidence pointed to unlikely suspects—a few road workers seen on the bridge, and a demolitions expert with no history of violent crime. A half dozen radical groups tried to take credit, making the truth even more difficult to ferret out. All that was known for sure was that somebody intentionally brought the beloved landmark down, taking the lives of close to fifty people.

At the moment of the disaster, a redheaded girl in a green velvet dress was seen watching the bridge collapse from Martyr Park, which overlooked the river. Witnesses noted something strange in her demeanor. She showed no sign of surprise, nor concern for the many people losing their lives before her eyes. Rumors had already begun to spread that she was a terrorist, or that she was a ghost, or that she never really existed at all. Mysterious sightings of the girl in green were being reported everywhere, and she was quickly becoming a local legend. A green velvet dress would be a popular Halloween costume for redheaded girls in Memphis this year.

At the moment of the disaster, another girl several miles away, wearing a very authentic Confederate uniform, was caught trying to steal a chicken right off a supermarket rotisserie. In the commotion of the blast, as shoppers ran out into the street to find out what had happened, the girl had thought no one would be looking, so she could take what she pleased. However, the store’s manager was more concerned with criminal activity in his market than with death and destruction elsewhere. The girl made a big fuss about being caught, but became respectful when a uniformed police officer arrived on the scene.

As it turned out, the girl was a strange case. She claimed to have no family, no home, and she didn’t match any children in the national database of kids reported missing.

“You have to have some family somewhere,” the officer insisted as he let her eat the stolen chicken.

“Nope, ain’t got no family a-tall,” she said, in an accent from a place so Southern-deep, you could get the bends coming up from it. “Nope, no family,” she said. “… a’course I do got a dog… .”