by C C Roth
We turned off the main cobblestone drive and onto a side street plagued with dollhouse-like cottage homes and pastel scalloped trim. Basically, my own personal nightmare. There were even adorable white picket fences surrounding perfectly manicured yards.
Ugh.
Soon the residential landscape grew sparse and I could see a clearing in the distance. We passed a couple acres of empty grass fields as the road lead towards the tracks. A small house, almost a shack, stood alone on the edge of town right up against the railroad tracks. There were two tracks running parallel to one another and what appeared to be a small train station.
“Is that what I think it is?” I asked confused. Driving through this town was like going through a time machine.
“Yep, that’s the train depot. It’s been preserved and refurbished but it’s the original building built in 1898.”
I think he expected me to be impressed or something.
He grinned a little. “I take it you’re not into trains?”
“Well let’s see. I’m a 16-year-old girl and the year is 2022 not 1800. So no, I’m not into trains. We have internet, you know?”
He chuckled. “Well, not anymore. When was the last time you had cell phone reception or email?”
“January. When we left our home and came here. God, I miss my phone.”
I hadn’t even thought about it lately with everything going on but there were still days I would reach for my pocket to check my messages or call Nia. It’s funny, I always felt like I had this connection to everything right at my fingertips but maybe there was never any real connection at all. Something so fragile and so easily stolen, surely couldn’t have been worth all those hours of my life.
Frank stopped the truck next to the small blue shack and cut the engine. A man was standing at the window peering out and greeted us with a wave before coming to the door. His black hair was more than speckled with gray, it was almost completely white and his face was full of deep wrinkles that told his age. He smiled kindly and patted Frank on the back as we climbed the two small steps to his door.
He sized me up a bit then offered me his hand. “I’m Cecil. It’s nice to meet you.”
I ignored the handshake offering but I didn’t want to be a total ass since I didn’t know if this guy would be any use to me or not. “I’m Sam. Thank you for your help,” I replied.
We went in and sat at a small table illuminated with candlelight. It was a sparse room with a bed in one corner and a kitchenette. Not much bigger than the loft I was sharing with my brother.
“You get used to the size after a while,” he said noticing my gaze. “I’ve got an important job, you know? Someone has to make sure the trains run on time.” He winked at me as you might to a small child. I suppose that’s what I looked like to him. If only he knew what I really was.
There was an elaborate Train Master’s uniform hanging on the wall with a shiny gold pocket watch on a chain. It was immaculate, as if it belonged in a museum.
“A display for when the tours come through,” he explained. “Or came through, rather. We were sort of an attraction for train enthusiasts and families with little kids. We are one of the oldest fully operational train depots in the U.S. All of the signs in the teller windows are original and…”
Frank cut him off. “Cecil, save your breath. She’s not here for a history lesson. Besides, she’s not into trains.”
“Yeah, well what teenager is?” he shrugged. He reached over and grabbed a large book from the counter and put it in front of us. “Maybe this will be more interesting. I’ve been logging their movements from the beginning. Every Train Master must have a train log mustn’t they? When they run the trains and how many people are coming and going. They had an early delivery of supplies last week so if they stick to the same schedule you’ve got about an hour before the train comes and goes. That’s all I know.”
“An hour? Is that all? That doesn’t leave us much time.”
“Give or take a little. But they’re usually pretty predictable.”
“Do you know where the train is taking people or what they’re unloading?”
“No clue, young lady. It points north when it leaves and south when it comes in. Something strange I noticed is that the people they’re loading up are all younger. It doesn’t look like anyone over 18 in the bunch. I tried to ask some questions but the soldiers are the ones doing all the transport and delivery and they’re closed mouthed. Really that’s all I know, sorry I can’t be of more help to you.”
I nodded trying to process what he had said. Again the weird age thing was popping up. Why were only young kids being targeted?
We should go, It whispered.
I stood. “I better get going. I don’t want to waste any time.” I turned to Frank, “Thank you for doing this, Frank. I know what it means.”
“I should come with you. I just can’t send you out there on your own.”
We’d already been over this before back at his store and again on the drive here.
“It’ll be easier on my own. Besides, you have Ellen. If I don’t come back in two hours just go home like nothing happened.”
He shook his head in frustration. “Dammit, just don’t get yourself killed.”
I paused at the doorway before ducking out. “I’ll do my best.”
8- Revenge is Best Served Cold
Ihad the cover of night on my side but I also had the misfortune of not really having a clue where I was. The landscape of the town was completely foreign to me even after studying Frank’s crude map drawing. I reached into the truck bed and pulled out my rifle and backpack. Ellen had been kind enough to supply me with two handguns and some extra ammo. Between that and the ammo I’d brought for my rifle I had enough to take on a small army which, from the sound of things, I just might have to do. I stuffed my coat pockets with two extra magazines then stashed the backpack with the handguns in the bushes up against the shack. I didn’t want it slowing me down.
The night was crisp and my breath clouded in front of me. All I had to do was make my way to the community building where the militia was holding their prisoners and find Mike. No big deal. Except I had to do it without getting shot by trained military forces. My heart fluttered a bit in my chest and I could feel my reserve wavering.
Let’s move, It said.
I shied away from the street lights as I left the relative security of the Train Master’s station and crossed the dirt road to a row of trees that lined the street. If I stayed in the shadows I should be fine and lucky for me the community building wasn’t that far from the train tracks. I paused briefly so a guard standing on the train platform wouldn’t see me. The bark of the tree dug into my back as I held my breath and counted one, two, three, four. He was looking right at me but didn’t know it. The second he turned back around I darted forward again and made my way north through the darkness. A memory flashed in my mind of when Nia and I snuck out to go to a party about two years ago. I recalled the adrenaline rush of sneaking through the dark, trying not to get caught. She ended up tripping over something and twisting her ankle so we had to awkwardly hobble our way back home. We never even made it to the stupid party, but we had a blast giggling the whole way making fun of how ridiculous we looked. This is pretty much the same thing, I told myself as I ducked under another tree branch.
A brisk walk and a few minutes later I came upon a large, gray, well-lit building with a U-shaped parking lot. It was just as Frank had described. The building reminded me of somewhere you’d go to see a kid’s dance recital or where the PTO would plan how to bore everyone to death with a fundraiser. Big, boring and kind of generic. The only exciting attribute it held was the two uniformed soldiers standing outside the main entrance doors talking to each other. Both were armed. The problem wasn’t the guards but the size of the building. How was I going to be able to search the whole thing?
Get moving, It pushed me onward, growing more impatient with each moment of my hesitation.
Its cold hand was nudgi
ng me from within telling me I would be fine. No matter what happened I wasn’t alone in this. I quickly ducked back into the tree line and made my way around to the east side of the building using the surrounding landscaping as cover. It took longer but I couldn’t exactly walk up to the front door and say, “Hi, I’m here to kill you and steal some people.”
It might work.
With a serious scan of the area I could see there wasn’t anyone in sight and I was clear from view of the soldiers out front. I emerged from the trees at a run with my rifle ready and pinned myself up against the building between two large sets of windows. On a shuddering breath, I praised myself for not being dead yet. Peering through the glass I could see there was a long hallway with several doors leading all the way to the back. Towards the front there was a large open entryway full of fake plants and boring gray carpet, the exact color of sadness. Several banners announcing school band performances and opening night of the Junior Class play, The Taming of the Shrew, were draped around the room. Creeping closer to the front, I could hear the two people standing guard as they chatted.
“I can’t believe we pulled this shift again,” a woman said. “I hate moving the kids. Makes me feel awful.”
“Yeah well, you’re not here so you can feel good. You’re here so you can live,” the man said. “Besides, we don’t know what they’re doing with the kids or why they want them. Maybe it’s not what you think.”
“Hmm, well what I think is that in a month we’ve never been ordered to return any kids from that place. Only deliver. We send them off then never see them again. What does that tell you?” she asked him.
“I don’t care,” he said coldly. “I’m still here and so are you so stop complaining. Would you rather be running checkpoints at one of those Safe Zones? Examining people for infection as they sneeze in your face? I don’t think so. You’ve got it easy. Suck it up or someone else will gladly take this assignment.”
Where were they delivering these kids? Cecil had seen them being loaded onto the train but where did it go?
It doesn’t matter, they’re in our way.
A chill was running through me, tempting me to act on impulse. This is what I came for after all, wasn’t it? I didn’t care about these two idiots and as far as I was concerned, I’d heard enough damning evidence to condemn them to an immediate end. But there was no way to do it quietly and there was no way to know who was inside and what they might do to Mike. My bloodlust would have to wait. Looking up and down the length of the wall I realized something. We had a building like this attached to our school back home, so I knew they had to have several access doors for hauling in equipment, props and instruments. I left the immoral twins where they were and bolted down the length of the building, my reflection in the enormous windows a flash and nothing more. Adrenaline got the better of me and I turned the corner too quickly without looking first. Luckily it was clear, nothing but an empty lot and a large brown dumpster. Very lucky. I ran my finger over the long silver bar across the access door wondering how loud it would be and whether or not someone was on the other side waiting to blow my head off.
No going back.
I pushed it in silently and was greeted by a dimly lit, empty hallway lined with stacks and stacks of foldable chairs and other theatre paraphernalia. It was so quiet all I could hear was a high-pitched whir of silence. My footsteps disappeared into the carpet, like I was a ghost floating down the hall. To my right, a strip of light glowed from underneath a door and there was another at the end of the hall. This one seemed as good as any other door to start with. Moving closer, I could hear movement inside and maybe a man’s voice, but it was hard to make out. I gripped the doorknob and with a steady hand slowly inched it inward, waiting for someone to take notice and yell but no one did. I paused when it was opened about a half inch and I could hear perfectly. There were two men talking. One was just saying “Mmm” and “Uh-huh” as the other one rambled on. He was obnoxious and barely took a breath. My throat suddenly felt tight and a chill ran down my spine fierce enough to make me shiver. I knew that voice. It was Scott, the man from the woods. The man who’d taken Mike. The disgusting turd who’d threatened me and marched me through the woods as his captive.
We can’t be that lucky, can we?
“No, I can’t. I’m here for Mike and—"
Oh c’mon. It’ll be quick.
I stood frozen, vibrating with hate for this man as I listened to him ramble on.
What do you think he’ll do to the next girl he picks up?
It was right. I knew exactly what he was going to do because he had told me. I was immediately blinded by rage and could barely restrain myself from bursting through the door and ripping his eyes out of his head. But I remained still, knowing I had to get to Mike first. Risking my brother for this moron wasn’t worth it. He was still rambling on. What an idiot. I consoled myself thinking I could come back for him later and turned to move on to the next door. But then fate stepped in.
“Hey, I gotta take a break. Cover for me,” Scott said to his invisible partner.
I could hear his footfalls coming toward the door. The hall was so poorly lit if I stood perfectly still against the wall, he probably wouldn’t notice me right away.
Hiding? Uh-uh, where’s the fun in that?
I looked around hastily wondering what the hell I was going to do with this sadistic idiot if I couldn’t use my gun. Hit him in the head with a chair? Jump out and hope I scare him to death?
Check your pocket.
My hand reached into my back pocket and pulled out the knife Ellen had given me. Noah’s knife, I’d all but forgotten it. I opened it quickly and stood at the ready not really knowing what I was going to do with it.
I got this, It cooed.
Scott emerged and started past me, so close I could have stuck out a toe and tripped him. All I had to do was not move and he’d never know I was there. I could let him go and be on my way. Too bad for Scott, it wasn’t up to me. I grimaced as I saw his face and remembered his joke about how he only had one use for me. My blood boiled and before I knew it, my left hand had reached up and grabbed a handful of his hair jerking him backward as my right hand violently shoved the blade into his throat. It made more noise than I thought it would but not enough to alert his partner in the room behind us. Heat oiled down my hand and wrist making my grip slippery and clumsy. This wasn’t my weapon of choice and I was completely without skill…but nevertheless. His arms flailed, grasping at my hands and making a bigger mess. I guided him to the floor as he had no fight left in him and delivered one final thrust to put him out if his misery. It was done. He collapsed in a heap and quickly soaked the carpet with a pool of blood. Though it was dark I could see he had a ridiculous expression on his face, something between surprise and stupidity. Good, he deserved to die looking like a dumbass.
I looked at my hands and clothes. I’d ruined another outfit. “Great, now what?”
Stop complaining and keep going.
“Note to self, no more knives. They’re too messy.”
I moved to the next door and listened as I hurriedly wiped the blood off my hands onto my coat. Silence. All I could hear was my own breathing. I turned the knob slowly and peered in through the tiniest crack in the door. No soldiers in view. No gun pointed directly at my head. No army lying in wait. Instead I saw rows and rows of cots laid out across an expansive square room. It was probably used for a dance floor at some point but had now been converted into a holding cell for their prisoners. An enormous mirror spanned the length of the side walls, the reflection telling me there were only two people inside and they’d be no trouble at all. One, a girl with corkscrew black curls sitting on her bed with her hands tied in front of her. She was probably around my age, maybe younger. And there was an even younger boy with sandy blonde hair three cots over from her. His hands also bound in front of him.
Something wasn’t right. Where the hell were all the soldiers and where was my brother? The double set of
doors at the front of the room was closed.
“Pssst,” I signaled to the kids and they both jumped, turning quickly.
“Where is everyone?” I whispered harshly.
They didn’t know me and they looked totally freaked out when they saw I was practically drenched in blood. The boy had been crying recently judging by the tear stains on his cheeks. He looked like he might panic as his eyes darted back and forth from the girl to me.
Keep moving, It said. I started to listen but I couldn’t stand the pitiful looks on their faces.
“I’m here to help. Where is everyone?”
They looked at each other questioning, then the girl spoke. “The people just took a bunch of the others out the front. They’re loading them into a truck now.”
“Dammit,” I said in a hushed tone. “How many soldiers are there? Do you know?”
They shrugged. “Maybe four?” the girl said without confidence.
I could take them with me right then, rescue both of them and get out. But I wouldn’t have my brother and I would only be putting more distance and more obstacles between us.
We don’t have time for this. It was getting angry.
“Was there a big guy in the group they took out? Tall with dark hair?” I asked.
The boy perked up a little and nodded. “Mike? Yeah, he was here. He’s nice.”
At least that was something, I had the confirmation I needed. I couldn’t waste any more time and I couldn’t leave them there. Whatever. I could dump them outside somewhere if I had to, they weren’t my responsibility.
“Can you both run?”
They nodded.
“But we’re tied up,” the boy said, pointing to his feet. I ran into the room and again pulled the knife from my back pocket. He jumped a little at the sight of blood all over it and I hastily wiped it on my sleeve. Their ankles had been zip tied as well as their wrists. Jesus, they were just kids. But then again, so was I. In a few quick saws of my knife I had the boy free. My hands were sweating from the anticipation of being interrupted by douchebag militant nut jobs. At any moment those doors could open and I would be screwed. The seconds pounded in my head, making me fumble the knife more than once. As soon as the girl was free we bolted to the back door, jumped over Scott’s pathetic carcass and were outside in the cold air again.