Атлант расправил плечи
Their Brothers’ Keepers
InMinnesota,theywereseizingcarsfromeverysiding,fromtheMesabiRange,fromtheoreminesofPaulLarkinwherethecarshadstoodwaitingforadribbleofiron.Theywerepouringwheatintoorecars,intocoalcars,intoboardedstockcarsthatwentspillingthingoldtricklesalongthetrackastheyclatteredoff.Theywerepouringwheatintopassengercoaches,overseats,racksandfixtures,tosenditoff,togetitmoving,evenifitwentmovingintotrack-sideditchesinthesuddencrashofbreakingsprings,intheexplosionssetoffbyburningjournalboxes.
Theyfoughtformovement,formovementwithnothoughtofdestination,formovementassuch,likeaparalyticunderastroke,strugglinginwild,stiff,incredulousjerksagainsttherealizationthatmovementwassuddenlyimpossible.Therewerenootherrailroads:JamesTaggarthadkilledthem;therewerenoboatsontheLakes:PaulLarkinhaddestroyedthem.Therewasonlythesinglelineofrailandanetofneglectedhighways.
Thetrucksandwagonsofwaitingfarmersstartedtricklingblindlydowntheroads,withnomaps,nogas,nofeedforhorses—movingsouth,southtowardthevisionofflourmillsawaitingthemsomewhere,withnoknowledgeofthedistancesahead,butwiththeknowledgeofdeathbehindthem—moving,tocollapseontheroads,inthegullies,inthebreaksofrottedbridges.Onefarmerwasfound,halfamilesouthofthewreckofhistruck,lyingdeadinaditch,facedown,stillclutchingasackofwheatonhisshoulders.
