The Runaway Train

by M. W. Griffith

  “Shut up!”

  She wriggled out of her brother’s grip and waved her arms at the patrol car. “Over here!”

  Another spray of bullets trailed along the pavement, narrowly missing her worn boots. Joel wrapped an arm around her chest, lifting her into the air.

  “No! Let me go!”

  Joel pinned her down behind the dumpster. He leaned close, nose to nose. “Are you trying to get yourself killed? Stay the hell down!”

  She shoved her head to the side, not wanting to look at him. It was his idea to come out here. His idea to return the Red Tops. She only wanted to help, but her own brother wouldn’t let her. Now, she was sure they were going to die.

  Across the way, the police officer began popping off rounds from the rear of his cruiser. A concussion of gunfire smacked into the windshield in retaliation. Two more cruisers rolled up behind the first.

  Joel fingered the pistol in his waistband.

  “Don’t,” Mouse said in the most serious tone she could muster. “They’ll think you’re one of the bad guys.”

  “I’m just going to hide it.” He pressed his back against the dumpster and slid the pistol underneath. “There. See? That wasn’t so bad, right?”

  A screech of tires echoed against the walls. The police officers began jogging towards the dumpster, weapons drawn. Terrified, Mouse buried her face into her brother’s shoulder and wept.

  “Got a couple kids, here.” One of the cops shouted. Mouse looked up at him while he holstered his weapon. The man had big blue eyes and an angular face filled with a mixture of urgency and entreaty. “It’s okay, darling. We’re here to help. My name is Karl. What’s yours?”

  Joel tightened his grip around her when the officer offered a hand. “We ain’t done nothing wrong. Just leave us be.”

  “Alright, buddy.” Karl spoke something into his shoulder speaker. Then he knelt down in front of them. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to take you guys down to the station. We can contact your parents from there, okay?”

  After a moment of hesitation, Joel stood, pulling Mouse up with him. “Are we in any kind of trouble?”

  Mouse glanced around the corner of the dumpster to see Wrench’s body sprawled out on the pavement. His leather jacket accumulated the falling snow. Behind him, slumped against the door, was Poot.

  “Nah, kid. It looks to me like you two were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Kathryn Lincoln steered her car through the gusting white haze. A weather app on her phone suggested the system would push out of the area in an hour. The roads were getting bad, and visibility was low.

  She made a mental note to get the tire chains out of storage. The apartment complex held a contract with a neighboring storage unit, U-Store, which was one of the reasons she moved in. The storage unit allowed her to keep extra things she’d gathered over the years, as well as childhood relics. She didn’t consider it to stretch to the extent of hoarding, but others might disagree. Some of the stuff belonged to Patricia. Kathryn kept them because her sister didn’t have any place for them.

  The pieces of their collective childhood were accumulating dust. Visiting the unit would be like flipping through the pages of an old photo album at happy memories. When you’re young, living in the moment is the most important thing in the world. The times spent with her sister shined like sunlight, chasing away the shadows of their troubled home life.

  These things were crucial to hold onto. They provided physical evidence of very different times. Times when their father was still around, and the cold hard truth of adulthood hadn’t reared its ugly head.

  The flash of emergency lights bloomed in her rearview mirror. Sirens pierced the still air inside her car. She pulled onto the shoulder to let the ambulance roar by before noticing the route. She was almost to the apartments. A left turn up ahead would take her directly to the parking lot.

  Frozen in place, hands gripping the wheel, Kathryn watched the ambulance turn left at the intersection.

  She felt like the ground dropped away beneath her. She dialed her home phone number, pulling sharply away from the shoulder. The tires spun on the wet road, but Kathryn steadied the vehicle and accelerated after the ambulance.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kathryn Lincoln paced the carpeted floor of the waiting room at Ashbridge Medical. A television hanging in the corner blared cartoons for a couple of fussy children. They screamed and pulled each other’s hair. Sitting across the way, their mother scrolled through her Facebook feed.

  The noise pulsed in Kathryn’s ears, but one thought overpowered everything else around her. When she rushed up to her apartment in time to see Patricia rolled out on a gurney, the technician told her.

  Overdose.

  Four hours passed before the doctor called her outside in the hall. Large green eyes were sympathetic behind a pair of silver frames. “We pumped her stomach. I know that’s not a popular method these days. She was unconscious when paramedics arrived. I’m going to keep her here for a few days, and recommend a couple professionals who can give a psychoanalysis.”

  “Psychoanalysis?” Kathryn felt disgusted and angry.

  The doctor spoke slowly. “Whatever her frame of mind at the time, she had a change of heart when the drugs took effect. She’s the one who dialed 911, detective. That tells me she wants to live.”

  The anger forced her voice to waver. “That’s what she wants you to think. She wanted someone to find her. What did she take?”

  “A mixture of pain medication. Put that together with what was already in her system, it added up to one dangerous cocktail.”

  “Is she awake?”

  “She is.” The doctor nodded. “She needs rest, so if you have anything you need to say to her, I’d recommend keeping it short.”

  “Don’t worry,” Kathryn sighed. “This won’t take long at all.”

  She followed the doctor through the double doors. Room 313 was sparsely furnished. A small chair sat in a corner for visitors. The bed was at the center of the room. A mechanical whirring sounded as the mattress shifted into an upright position.

  Patricia Lincoln gazed at her sister with a faraway expression. Her eyes were bloodshot, skin as pale as the fallen snow. “Hey babe. You’ll never believe what happened to me today.”

  Kathryn raised a hand to quiet her. “Don’t talk. You don’t get to do the talking now. Instead, I want you to listen to me.”

  “Come on, Kat. I’m in a bad way. Hang in there for me a little while longer. I’m done with drugs. Trust me. When your life flashes before your eyes that means it’s time to turn shit around once and for all.”

  “I said don’t speak.” Kathryn pulled the chair up to the bedside and perched on the edge. “The doc filled me in. You went through my stuff. You took whatever you could find.”

  Patricia frowned. “Look, I’ll pay you back.”

  “That’s not the point!” Tears sprang into Kathryn’s eyes. “Don’t you get it? You didn’t come to my house to sleep it off this time. You came back to die. You used me.”

  “Kat, you don’t know what I’ve been through.”

  “I know shit has been rough for you.” She wiped her eyes with the back of a sleeve. “And I’ve always been there. How could I not be? You’re my sister. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to help you out. I’ve tried talking to you. I’ve tried being a shoulder you can lean on, and I’ve given you a place to try and get clean. But it isn’t ever going to quit, Pat. You aren’t going to stop running from the troubles that chase you. You’re always drowning yourself in drugs or shitty people. Killing yourself might not have worked this time around, but let me tell you something. The way you’re going, you’re killing yourself every day. At least with the overdose it wouldn’t have taken so long.”

  Patricia let the tears roll down her cheeks. “So, what do you have in mind? Huh?”

  “I said I’d do anything for you, Pat.” Kathryn stood and made her way back to the
door. “I’ve made up my mind. The doctors will help wean you for the time being, but you’re going to be charged and committed to a facility upstate.”

  “No! What’s wrong with you? We’re family for god’s sake!” Patricia’s face reddened, her voice was raw. “Don’t walk away from me you bitch!”

  Kathryn closed the door behind her, mind reeling. Her heart ached. The words of Larry Rainer burned in her thoughts.

  You’re the devil.

  She stepped onto the elevator. After the doors closed she bent over in the cramped space and screamed. The sound rose up from the depths of her stomach, exploding with more force than she’d ever felt before. There was no stopping the tears from falling, so she let them stream down her face unchecked.

  Kathryn leaned against a wall, gulping in the stale air around her. Bile swelled up into her throat, but she swallowed hard and continued to take deep breaths. After a moment, she straightened herself and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ears.

  “There’s a lot of wild in Montana,” she cried. “You have to be able to function in it.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Mouse’s feet dangled off the bench in the holding cell. The place smelled like old socks. A vent above blew hot air into the small space, forcing her to shed the hoodie. She wore a green tank top underneath with the words Friendship is Magic in rainbow colors. It was a treasure snatched from a donation box behind the local Goodwill store.

  “It’s so hot in here.” She leaned back against the concrete wall and stuck her tongue out in exasperation. “Did they say how long it’d be?”

  “No.” Joel stood in front of the bars, looking out at the empty cell across the way. “Good thing you got rid of those Red Tops. It would’ve been bad news for sure. Not that they weren’t already.”

  “Are you still mad at me?”

  Joel glanced over his shoulder. “Nah. You were only trying to help. I get that. I’m just glad we made it out of there in one piece.”

  “It was all my fault.” Mouse stared up at the ceiling, eyes brimmed with tears. “If I didn’t talk to Poot, he wouldn’t be dead right now. None of them would have died!”

  “Hey.” Joel sank down on the bench and held onto her hand. “There’s no way you could’ve known. Remember what Wrench said? You have to be sure of that kind of life. Poot was sure about what he was getting into. The risk came with the territory.”

  She pictured the boy’s lifeless body crumpled against the door. “He didn’t deserve it, though.”

  “I understand a lot has happened today. Just don’t go blaming yourself. Those guys, the shooters? They planned on driving up to the alley. Had nothing to do with you.” She lay her head on his shoulder and he caressed her hair. “You’re okay, now.”

  “I want to go to the shelter tonight.” Her voice was almost a whisper. “It’s too cold at the warehouse.”

  “Yeah, we’ll see.”

  Mouse closed her eyes and tried to think about happier days. “Remember the boy I met at that church thing?”

  “This past summer? Name was Ethan, right?”

  “Yeah. I liked him.”

  Joel sighed. “We were only hanging around there for the free food. Hell, they even gave us a cabin to stay in. It’s not a good idea to get attached to any place, or anyone for too long. You get that, right?”

  “Yeah, I guess. He was super cute, though. I wonder what he’s been up to?”

  “You aren’t still writing those love letters, are you?” His tone became serious. “We’ve been over that.”

  “No.” She frowned.

  His eyes flashed with anger. “It’s bad enough that preacher recognized you. Out of all the people at that camp, he noticed you.”

  She shrugged. “I just wish we were normal so we can do normal people things. It isn’t fair.”

  Joel stood when the guard started down the hall. “We play the hand we’re dealt. There’s no room for fair. Not for us.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Kathryn Lincoln poured herself a glass of milk and plopped onto the sofa. The stereo played a mix of trance music Selena had sent. The hypnotizing beats filled the living room. She wondered if she’d gone too far, if she created an irreparable divide between herself and Patricia. When they were young, they were inseparable. Anything the world tossed at them, they could handle.

  Together.

  Sometime after their father left, her sister began building a wall. Nobody could penetrate it. She lived alone on an island of disrepair, refusing to let anyone inside. Kathryn could climb the walls to the highest height, only to discover the construction was something that would never stop. It rose higher and higher, beyond the reach of their childhood association, beyond the comforting consolidation shared by years gone by.

  Gulping the milk, she leaned back and let the synthesizers soothe her mind. Nothing else existed at this moment. There wasn’t an open case, or Mathew, or Patricia. The only thing that mattered right now was herself. Sometimes, a person gives and gives until the point of exhaustion. Ryan mentioned she should take a little time off. It didn’t matter if she wasn’t being honest at this point, because Patricia was gone and she needed time to herself. Time to recuperate.

  That’s when her phone buzzed.

  “This better be good,” she growled.

  “Easy, tiger.” Ryan’s cheerful voice made all the difference in the world. “We have movement on the case, if you can believe it.”

  “Well, hot damn!” Kathryn grinned. She set the glass on a side table. “Tell me what you got.”

  There was a pause on the other line. “Are you alright?”

  “Never better. Are you going to talk to me or what?”

  “Okay.” Ryan’s voice was uncertain. “Narcos for the 12th precinct just ended a shootout with the Wraith gang at a stash house. Apparently, they’ve been surveying the building for a few months. Here’s where it gets interesting. Two homeless kids were caught in the crossfire. Police at the scene took them in, and the older kid’s prints matched up with a prior. Are you sitting down? I want you to be sitting down for this.”

  Kathryn rolled her eyes. “Just tell me.”

  “Okay.” The excitement in her partner’s voice was palpable. “Kid’s name is Andrew Cutler. They put him in a holding cell with a young girl. Kat, we might have just broke this case wide open.”

  “Hold your horses.” Kathryn narrowed her eyes in thought. “What was the girl’s name?”

  “She’s a minor, goes by ‘Mouse.’ That’s all we got.”

  She furrowed her brow. “Mouse? Any other description?”

  “What more do we need? The fact is we just found Andrew Cutler. We can needle him for information about the house fire, or maybe Rainer.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “Still at the station. Salt trucks have come by, but I don’t think I can make it all the way to another district.”

  Kathryn stood and slipped into her coat. Grabbing the keys from the counter, she hurried out the door. “Don’t worry about it. I’m on my way.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Mouse lay on the bench, hands clasped behind her head. After everything they'd been through together, a true sense of finality closed around them like the cell bars. They were quiet, lost in thought.

  She ignored the anxiety bubbling in her tummy, refusing to allow it to boil over. They'd been alone for so long that she couldn't imagine life being any different. No matter what sort of trouble came their way, she felt like they could take it on. Living on the streets sharpened her survival skills, but it wouldn't have been possible without her big brother. He encouraged her, made her believe that she could do anything. Her ability to quietly slip past shop owners with pockets full of food contributed to her nickname. Like a mouse, she was able to scurry out of sticky situations unnoticed.

  Until now.

  The dreadful sensation in her belly told her that it was the end of the line. A mouse, however, always found a hole. There was always a way
out. No matter how impossible the situation seemed.

  There had to be.

  Sitting up, she looked at Joel leaning against the bars with his knees drawn up. "We need to call Molly."

  Joel's eyebrows bent downward. "You can't be serious."

  "The cops are trying to get ahold of Donnie. You know they are."

  "I told you before, I'll keep you safe. Just let me come up with a plan."

  Mouse chewed the corner of her lip. "There's no other way. Either we take our chances with social services, or we face Donnie Cutler. I can't do that, Joel."

  Joel shook his head. "The system is just going to dump us in the lap of some other creeper."

  "You don't know that."

  "When it happens enough times, it becomes the truth."

  Her eyes were desperate, pleading. "It's the only way, Joel. You know what'll happen if Donnie gets us back. Please. Just call Molly. You said that we play the hand we're dealt. Well, this is the only play left for us."

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kathryn punched the steering wheel and instantly regretted it. Holding her knuckles up to her lips, she winced at the pain pulsing through her wrist. The engine wouldn’t start, and instead gave a horrible metallic clanking sound when she turned the key.

  Snow spattered the windshield. The icy cold reached through the doors and wrapped its fingers around her blue jean jacket. Nose running, heart racing at the imperativeness of the situation, she climbed out of the Maxima and began making her way along the sidewalk. Less than a mile ahead stood the covered pavilion of a bus stop, and she carefully walked along the icy path until she was able to sit on the bench with chipped green paint.

  Wind howled through the opening of the pavilion. The walls were littered with flyers. Some were for local bands playing questionable venues, while others were full paged advertisements for missing people. One of the posters stood out from the rest. It was a full-scale image of Ethan Winfield. The corners of the paper were tattered and someone had even drawn a mustache across the young boy’s face. She stared at the image with a false sense of hope, knowing that Ethan had been recovered but there were so many others who simply vanished into thin air.