The Runaway Train

by M. W. Griffith

  Her phone buzzed just as the bus pulled up to the stop. “Ryan, I’m just now getting on the bus. My car wouldn’t start, can you believe it?”

  “That sucks.” Ryan’s voice chimed. “Listen, the officers at the precinct released Joel and his sister, Mouse. The guys couldn't get Mr. Cutler on the phone, but they allowed Joel to contact their case worker.”

  “You mean Molly Evans?” She climbed the small steps of the bus and found a seat up front.

  “That's right. The precinct tells me they planned on catching a bus back to Harris Station. Looks like she's taking them home.”

  Kathryn grunted. "Why not drive them herself?"

  "She didn't drive to the precinct. Apparently, there's a stop close to her home."

  Kathryn paused in thought. “Evans was their case worker. The Monroe Institute had connections to Rainer. You see where I'm going with this?"

  "We don't have proof that she was involved in his operation. But, there is something smelly about all of it. Didn’t they use the bus routes to transport the victims?”

  Kathryn's heart began to race. "We need to intercept them at the station. I'll have my driver make an emergency stop. See if you can get some uniforms down there waiting for us."

  Chapter Eighteen

  Two blocks away from the police station, Mouse spotted the lights of the grass-green bus as it rounded the corner. Traffic spilled onto the boulevards in congested currents, forcing the bus to screech to a halt a couple streets down from the stop. The city sprawled around them was hazy from the recent snowfall, and it was hard to tear her gaze away from its majesty. The buildings were towering monoliths dusted in white, and if she stared up at them against the pale sky for too long, she’d get dizzy.

  She wasn’t sure what Joel and Molly were talking about. It didn’t entirely make sense to her. The only thing she understood was that the case worker was forcing them back to Mr. Cutler’s house. Back to the nightmare the siblings tried so hard to escape.

  The glint from a revolver jammed into her brother’s back made her afraid. She wanted to run away. She wanted to cry or scream, but the image of Poot lying in a pool of blood made her hesitant. All she could do was follow along and admire their wintry surroundings, trailing footprints along the sidewalks.

  A nagging thought struck her as they approached the bus stop. Trouble always found them. No matter how far they ran, or how deep they hid within the city, grief and heartache was never far behind. There was a time when she was sure their lives were taking a turn for the better. It was right after the foster home placed them with the Cutlers.

  Life began anew, and she even gained another sibling. Tracie Cutler was four years old, and was the world’s best at cuddling. Although the kid didn’t talk much, Mouse knew she appreciated the attention. She remembered brushing her hair dry after bath time, and twisting it into the most adorable pigtails. Donnie and Mary didn’t have time for hanging out with them very much, but Mouse didn’t mind picking up the slack and helping out with meals, or occasional baths, or even with reading stories at bedtime. Reading was the one thing Mouse cherished the most with her little sister. Together, they could venture to strange new worlds, or be whisked away on a pirate ship to mysterious islands.

  Mouse first noticed the bruises while helping Tracie get dressed one evening. They were ugly brown and purple splotches that blossomed along her back and arms. The sight angered Joel, but Tracie said she had fallen down the front steps. Mouse didn’t remember her falling down at all, and when it was explained, the words sounded to her like something practiced.

  Late one night, a thunderstorm ripped through their neighborhood. It uprooted trees, tore down fences, and pelted hail against the window panes.

  Mouse was awakened by a horrible screaming. She dashed downstairs to find Tracie wailing in the living room. Mary held her on the sofa, rocking back and forth.

  The four year old’s arm dangled awkwardly from her side.

  Donnie turned his bloodshot, angry eyes at Mouse. He yelled for her to get back to bed, and the sound of his voice boomed above the rolling thunder.

  Her legs became anchors on the steps.

  Donnie Cutler bolted after her with his hand raised. He struck her hard on the side of the face, sending her sprawling backward.

  Through the blur of tears, she watched in terror as Joel sprang from the shadows. Donnie shoved him hard against the wall, forearm pressed against her brother’s throat. “I want my money back,” the man seethed while lightning made the lamps flicker below. “Ya’ll ain’t worth a dime of what I spent.”

  Every day was thick with tension after that. Mary hardly spoke to any of them. She’d lock herself in her room, or stay extra late at work. It didn’t feel like the family Mouse was promised at the foster home. It didn’t feel like a dream come true.

  Joel had a plan to get them out of there for good. He talked about it late into the night, and filled her weary head with thoughts of freedom, of living on their own the way they wanted to. There’d be no more shuffling between homes, no more shouting, and nobody to tell them what to do. Most of all, he told her they’d be safe.

  It’s too bad Tracie couldn’t come with us.

  “Got your head in the clouds again, sis?” Joel perched on the bench at the bus stop. Molly sat closely next to him, the silver metal of her pistol barely visible. “Come on in here. The bus is coming.”

  Molly glared at her standing on the snowy sidewalk. “Be a good girl and do what he says.”

  “But you told me we’d stay at the shelter tonight.” Mouse made a slow approach to the bench. “Remember?”

  “You’re going back home.” Molly patted the wooden seat. “Now, sit down.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Mouse was afraid. She’d been afraid most of her life for one reason or another. This time was different. It wasn’t the same crippling fear that struck her while hiding behind the dumpster. This felt deeper somehow; ominous.

  Warm air pushed down through a vent when they climbed onto the bus. There weren’t many people on board, and nobody seemed to notice them walking single file along the aisle. Molly ushered her into a window seat, followed by Joel.

  The social worker turned around in the seat in front of them. Her cold gaze rivaled the icy air outside.

  The bus rumbled into motion. Mouse looked out the window at the passing city before focusing on her own reflection. Her eyes were bloodshot. Her chestnut brown hair was a tangled mess. She began running her fingers through the knotted strands.

  “What are you doing?” Joel elbowed her shoulder.

  “I look terrible,” she cried. “My hair is a mess.”

  Her brother glowered down at her. “Be still, will you?”

  Molly made a clicking sound with her tongue. “Anyone could tell you two are related. It’s interesting to see the way you interact because I never had a sibling. At the same time,” she focused a frown at Mouse, “it’s pretty damn annoying. So, why don’t we play quiet mouse? Are you familiar with the rules, sweetheart?”

  “Don’t call me that.” Mouse seethed.

  “I don’t think you’ve quite got the idea.” Molly leaned over the back of the seat, the steel barrel of the revolver flashing from her coat pocket. “No talking.”

  Terror crawled over Mouse like a million tiny insects. When the social worker tucked the weapon out of sight again, she forced herself to look out the window. Not at herself, but at the buildings drifting by and all the cars blending together in a blur. She couldn’t stand to look at her reflection again.

  “Boy, oh boy.” Molly’s face creased into a wicked grin. “I wonder if Donnie will even take you back. You know, after you tried to kill him. He might decide to give you to me. Throw you back to the wolves.”

  Joel pressed his lips together.

  “Oh, you can talk, Andrew. I just didn’t want to listen to your sister’s shrill little voice. Don’t know how you put up with it.”

  “I wasn’t trying to kill him.�
� Joel said in a half whisper.

  Molly shook with laughter. “Of course you were. You wanted to be rid of Donnie once and for all. Truth is, all you succeeded in doing was burning down the man’s house. That, and killing a four-year-old girl in the process. Pathetic.”

  Mouse jerked back around. “What did you say?”

  “She doesn’t know?” Molly cocked an eyebrow. “Let’s forget quiet mouse for now. This should be interesting. Go on, Joel. Tell her what happened. Tell her how you killed her baby sister. Better you than me, am I right?”

  Joel shook his head. He looked at Mouse who was watching him with a strangely stoic expression. “It wasn’t like that. The fire was just supposed to be a distraction. When I noticed it spreading so fast, I went back. Remember I told you to stay put out there in the woods? Well, when I got back to the house, Tracie wasn’t breathing. She was burned up pretty bad. I carried her outside, to the garage. I knew she was dead and there wasn’t anything I could’ve done to change that. So, I put her in a box, the wood one she used to put her dolls in, grabbed a shovel, and buried her deep in the woods.”

  Mouse felt a burning sensation in her stomach. She wanted to speak, but her mouth couldn’t form the words.

  “Wait a minute.” Molly seemed genuinely excited. “Why in the hell did you take the ladder?”

  Joel’s expression darkened. “Took it before I went back. Figured Donnie might try and get upstairs. Not that he cared about us. I wanted to make sure he didn’t find a way up there and discover an empty room. Anyway, we booked it for Harris Station, bought a couple tickets, and then we were out of there. Just like I promised.”

  As if on cue, the bus rumbled into Harris Station. Snow glazed the courtyard.

  “You told me she was safe.” The words dripped from Mouse’s lips like venom. “That it wasn’t right for us to break up a real family. They were blood, and we weren’t. You said we caused the tension in the house, and Donnie took it out on Tracie.” She wiped a tear from her eye. “You told me she was safe and I believed you! You killed her, Joel. You…”

  In one swift movement, Joel slammed his elbow into Molly’s jaw. Blood oozed from her mouth. She tried lunging over the seat at him, but Joel shoved her back. He dug inside her coat. Then, he stood with his hands gripping the revolver. “We aren’t going back. There’s no way I’m letting that happen.”

  “Hold it right there.” The voice came from a woman wearing a jean jacket towards the front of the bus. She was pointing a gun at Joel. “Drop the weapon, and we can all walk away from this.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Kathryn gripped her service weapon with one hand and held out the other. “Just take it easy. I’m a cop. Nobody needs to get hurt.”

  She watched Joel bring Molly up by the collar, the revolver pressed against her head. There weren’t many people on the bus, but she didn’t want all out panic. Sudden movements were her worst enemy.

  “We aren’t going back.” Joel repeated. “There’s no way we’re going back into the system. Not after all we’ve been through.”

  Next to him, the little girl whimpered in her seat.

  Kathryn grimaced. “Tell you what. Why don’t you put that gun away, and we can talk about it.”

  Joel tapped the barrel against the back of Molly’s head. “She’s trying to kidnap us. She said we were bought from Monroe foster service. Like we’re cattle or something!”

  Molly coughed, still reeling from the impact of Joel’s blow.

  “And you believe that?” Kathryn slowly edged her way into the aisle.

  “Yeah, I do. She was there through the whole process. Sometimes they’d even bring an old minister named Rainer. I thought he was there to bless us or something, but now I’m thinking he was just there to look us over. You know what I mean? Like judging whether or not we’d be worth his time.”

  A rumbling, cruel laugh arose from Molly. “Cutler wasn’t happy with you. Neither was Rainer. Nobody wanted you in the end.” She whirled around, knocking Joel’s arm away. The gun clattered on the floor under the seat while the two wrestled with each other.

  Joel shoved Molly hard, sending her toppling backwards into the aisle. In a flash, the kid was on top of the caseworker, hands clasped around her throat.

  “Get off!” Kathryn pulled at Joel, feeling herself losing control of the situation.

  That’s when she noticed the girl standing in the aisle.

  She was holding the revolver.

  Kathryn immediately holstered her weapon and backed away. “Hey, it’s Jennie, right?”

  Joel let go of Molly and stared with his mouth agape. The gun was aimed directly at him. “Mouse, what the hell are you doing?”

  “You told me she was safe.” Tears spilled down the girl’s dirty cheeks. “You lied to me.”

  Joel raised his hands, palms up. “I was protecting you. Just like I’ve always done.”

  “Protecting me?”

  Kathryn watched the intense expression on the girl’s face, as though she were thinking really hard about all the things that had happened to her.

  “Yeah,” Joel blurted with a tinge of anger. “It’s my job to look after you.”

  Some of the passengers ducked behind the seats. Outside the windows, the fountain at Harris Station could be seen through the drifting snow.

  Mouse’s lower lip trembled. “Not anymore.”

  Kathryn’s chest felt heavy. Time drew out, making her aware of every movement.

  Molly lunged. She wrestled with the pistol in Mouse's hands.

  A metallic popping noise filled the space around them.

  The social worker wailed as the bullet slammed into her midsection. Blood expanded on the floor like a red ocean. Her face was strained, and a vein pulsed in her forehead.

  Kathryn sprang into action. She pulled the weapon from Mouse’s grip, tucking it into her belt.

  For a moment, Mouse stood frozen in place. Then she threw her arms around the detective. Her thin frame shivered, and her breathing was quick, panicked.

  “It’s okay.” Kathryn directed a pointed look at Joel, silently telling him to stay put. “It’s over now.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The courtyard flashed red and blue in the falling snow. Police officers weaved around the fountain, its frozen tendrils arching in the air.

  She led Joel across the courtyard, his hands cuffed behind him. Mouse marched beside her, head hung low.

  “Looks like I missed it.” Ryan called to her. “Where’s Molly?”

  Kathryn glanced over at the bus. Freezing wind pricked her cheeks. “She didn’t make it.”

  Ryan put his hands on his hips and glanced at Joel. “Damn. Is he the shooter?”

  “No.” She looked over at Mouse. “It was an accident. Bringing him in on a confession, though. The murder of Tracie Cutler.”

  A small voice rose up out of the commotion. “What’s going to happen to us?”

  Kathryn directed a smile at Mouse, who was watching her intently. “Right now, I’m going to make sure you two get to a hospital. We need to get you guys checked out.”

  “That isn’t what she means.” Joel threw a glare over his shoulder. “We don’t want to be put back in the system. Weren’t you even listening?”

  Mouse stopped just as a couple ambulances pulled up to the fountain. “I don’t have anywhere else to go, do I?”

  Kathryn put a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll make sure you do. Trust me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  One Year Later

  Summer wind drifted through the American elm tree. Its gnarled trunk was shadowed behind a low afternoon sun. The brown haired girl, now with a splash of freckles on her face, leaned back in a swing as it rose upward. Her bare feet kicked in the warm breeze, weightless and carefree.

  “It’s a nice place.” Kathryn glanced over at Mathew on the porch. “She seems to be enjoying it.”

  “We both are. After I sold Daphne’s house in Ashbridge, we decided Eastern Montana
was the way to go. I doubt it’s what she would’ve wanted, seeing how she left me and Mary the inheritance, but things have changed. A lot has changed.” Mathew leaned forward in the rocking chair. “I can’t thank you enough, you know, for everything.”

  She wiped sweat from her brow. “My word held sway for the judge to accept the adoption, but you’re the one who’s come a long way. You’re starting a new life.” She pointed across the yard at the girl on the swing. “With her.”

  Mathew rose and ran a hand through thick tufts of hair. A glint of wetness swelled in his eyes. "The therapist said there's nothing worse than living with the unknown. That night on the bridge was an accident. There was no closure. Truth is, there's no such thing as closure. It just hurts a little less each passing day.” He paused, rubbing his eyes. “When you called me, I didn't know what to expect. My first thought was nobody could take my son's place, but that's not what you set out to do. After the accident, I didn't have a family anymore. Now, all that's changed."

  Kathryn shifted in her seat. "I don't think Mouse ever knew what a real home could be like. Now that you've found each other, how do you feel?"

  He looked over at the detective. "Like I have a purpose. Life has meaning again."

  She thought of Ryan then. His broad smile and tidy suit. For the first time in her life, she felt like she could trust again. To let someone in, and take a chance.

  A gentle breeze cut across the porch. "Both of you have been through a lot."