THE LAST SPIKE
Three hours before the avalanche hits, William Everett is sitting on an upturned crate, waiting for his father.
The town doesn’t even have a name yet. Nailed to a crooked post at the side of the train track is a messy hand-painted sign that says only: Mile 2553. Paint has dribbled down from the bottom of each number and letter. Yesterday when Will and his mother stepped off the train, the conductor shouted, “End of the...