by Amy Cross
“I'm sorry,” I tell her, as I step around her prone form and reach down to grab her wrists, “but the beast on the tracks needs to feed, and I've been very bad lately. He hasn't eaten for almost a month. I'm sure you'd understand.”
With that, I drag her into the cemetery and set her down in the shadows, and then I hurry back over to the gas station. There's no way Vince will be back any time soon, so I write a note and stick it to the window, and then I lock the door. As I walk away, I'm filled with a growing sense that tonight I'm going to prove myself to the beast on the tracks, and that this time he'll reward me properly.
As I reach the road, I glance over my shoulder, just to check that the sign is still in place. It is, and I can even read it from here:
Back in 30 minutes!
Chapter Nineteen
Richard
Five years ago...
“Hey, Richard, is that you?”
Startled, I look up and see my old school buddy John wandering over to join me at the bus stop. It's late, almost 10pm, and I'd counted on there being no-one out and about on a cold Wednesday night. This is such a small town, you can wander the streets for hours and not bump into anyone. Just my luck, I guess, that I meet someone at the exact moment when I want to be alone.
“Where are you headed off to?” he asks with a smile. “This bus only goes out of town, you know.”
“I'm just, uh...”
Staring at him for a moment, I try to imagine what he'd say if I told him the truth.
“I just murdered my parents and ran away from the house. I left plenty of evidence, my prints are all over the gun, the cops aren't even going to hesitate to figure out who's to blame. I also emptied out Dad's safe, which was lucky since his code turned out to be 1234, but that means I've got about two thousand dollars in my pocket and I need to make that last for quite a while. I don't even know where I'm going, but I can't just sit around and wait for my life to end. I'm sure someone heard the gunshot, the cops are probably at the house by now. I'm just going to run and run and run forever, and hope that by sheer luck I never get caught.”
I can't say any of that.
“I'm just, uh...” My voice trails off. “I'm going to see a friend.”
“A friend, huh?” His smile grows. “Would that be a friend of the female variety?”
“Sure,” I reply, figuring that if I'm going to lie, it might as well at least be a lie that makes me sound good. “I'm going to see a girl, she lives a few towns over. It's nothing serious.”
“What's her name?”
I try to think of a name.
“Gloria,” I say finally.
Gloria?
That's the first name that popped into my head? Seriously?
“Well,” John replies, “I hope this Gloria knows what she's letting herself in for. I wouldn't like to be you if your parents found out that you're going to see a girl. Where do they think you are right now, anyway?”
“Oh, I don't think they're worrying too much,” I tell him, and then I start giggling.
“Something funny?” he asks.
Why am I giggling? I have no idea, but I can't seem to stop. Not for a few seconds, although finally I bring myself to an abrupt halt. I know people have always thought that I'm a little weird, but I guess I'm acting real strange right now. Figuring that I need to change the subject, I look around, and then I see that there are way more stars than usual in the sky. I noticed that earlier, but I guess I didn't really pay much attention. Now, however, I find myself gazing up at hundreds and thousands of stars that seems to stretch to the horizon in every direction.
“Have you noticed the sky tonight?” I ask.
“The sky?”
“Look at it. Something's different.”
John turns and looks up, but from his tone of voice I can already tell that maybe he doesn't really understand.
“It's like something's different,” I say again, “in the air. Like tonight is... I don't know how to explain it. I guess I'm not very eloquent, but it's as if there's something hanging in the air, something I can almost see.” I reach a hand out and run it through the air, and I half expect to see tiny particles of star dust running between my fingers. “Almost.”
“Dude, you've lost me,” John says, taking a step back. “Listen, I'm heading to the club on Jacob Street if you wanna come. You could always call Gloria and tell her to meet us there.”
I gaze at the stars for a moment longer, before turning to him.
“Who?” I ask, puzzled.
“Gloria.” He stares at me, as if he's waiting for me to say something specific. “You know? Gloria? The girl you said you were off to see?”
It takes me a few seconds to realize what he's on about.
“Right,” I say, pulling myself together, “sure. I mean, no. I don't think -”
“And Shelley Lewis is gonna be there,” he adds, with a twinkle in his eye. “Come on, man, you know Shelley has a big crush on you.”
I shake my head.
“She does!” he continues. “Everyone knows it, and she's such a sweet girl. Kinda down to earth. I swear, all she talks about is getting married and popping out kids and being this happy little suburban housewife. It's crazy, but it's true. If ever there was a turnkey happy wife out there, it's Shelley Lewis. You could forget this Gloria girl, come to the club and get it on with Shelley, and the whole rest of your life would be mapped out like that!”
He snaps his fingers to emphasize the point.
“Like that, dude!”
He snaps them again.
I open my mouth to tell him that I'm not interested, but then I hesitate. For a few strange seconds, I'm actually tempted by the idea. I could put away all my doubts and fears and worries, and I could slide into an easy relationship with Shelley. It'd be like I was on rails for the rest of my life, and I see a series of images flashing into my mind's eye: I see myself dating Shelley, and marrying Shelley, and making love to Shelley, and having kids with Shelley, and growing old with Shelley. Hell, I wouldn't even have to fall in love with her necessarily. It'd just be a nice easy life, with no peaks or troughs. I shouldn't admit this, but I'm tempted.
I put my hands on the seat and prepare to get up, to go with John.
And then I remember all the blood at home, where Mom and Dad's bodies still haven't been discovered.
I stay sitting.
“It's your Swinging Doors moment,” John adds.
“My what?”
“I think it's some film,” he continues. “That might not even be the right title. I dunno, I haven't seen it. But it's like, your life could change majorly based on the choice you make right now.”
“I can't come to the club with you, John,” I reply.
“Why not?”
“It's complicated.” I blink, and for a fraction of a second I see Mom's corpse, before I open my eyes again. “I can't really get into it right now.”
“Well, maybe I'll give old Shelley a try, then,” he says, taking a step back. “Your loss might be my gain. Hey, if it all works out, I'll invite you to the wedding. Good luck with Gloria, man. I hope she's worth the bus trip.”
As he wanders off in the direction of the club, I find myself wondering how he'll react tomorrow when the news comes out about Mom and Dad. Will he refuse to believe that I could have done something so terrible, or will he go on TV and say that he always thought there was something a little 'off' about me? And what will Shelley Lewis think when she realizes that she was attracted to a guy who killed his parents? I guess everyone'll have a reaction, but I don't really want to hear all about it. To tell the truth, it all sounds a little boring.
Spotting lights along the road, I turn just in time to see that the bus is coming this way. I don't even know where I'm going, but – as I get to my feet and take some cash from my pocket – I'm pretty damn sure that it's gonna be a one way ticket. Maybe that's why the stars are so bright and weird tonight. Maybe this is a special night when people get to change their own
destiny.
Chapter Twenty
Richard
Today...
“Not much further to go,” I tell Milly as I continue to drag her through the cemetery. “Once we get to the railroad, we can start calling him.”
Looking over my shoulder, I can already see the rails in the moonlight. I'm not sure, but I reckon this must be the only cemetery in the world that has a railroad running right through its middle. For one thing, the whole set-up is distinctly disrespectful, and for another it's not entirely safe. Sure, there's a fence to keep people from straying onto the line, and I know there are only about two or three trains that come through here each week, but I still can't thinking that the town's planners must have been high when they okayed the arrangement.
I have no idea which came first, though. The railroad, or the cemetery? Knowing the answer to that would clear up a lot of questions.
I have to carefully manoeuver Milly around one of the fences, but finally we reach the edge of the track and I stop to get my breath back. I'm not exactly un-fit, but it's still quite exhausting to drag a body through a cemetery in the middle of the night. I lean against the fence for a moment and take deep, heavy gulps of air, while looking both ways along the line in case there's any sign of a train. I'm pretty sure that one is due through tonight, but that's okay, they go slow and the line's pretty straight so I can't imagine we'll have any problems.
“Mmmm,” Milly murmurs, and when I look down I see that she's staring to stir.
Seriously?
I take out the canister and spray her again, and she quickly falls unconscious. Still, I'm stunned that she started to recover so quickly. Unless she somehow has a natural tolerance to the stuff in the spray, she must simply have a hell of a metabolism.
Reaching into my pocket, I take out the gag that I brought tonight. I was hoping not to have to use it, but now I kneel down and fix it firmly in Milly's mouth, and then I take a moment to make sure that it's properly secured at the back of her head. In the unlikely event that she wakes up again, at least she won't be able to scream or rant at me.
Getting to my feet, however, I can't help feeling a little bad about all of this. Milly seemed nice at the party, she was one of the few people in this whole town who actually reached out and treated me like a normal human being. It seems a little unfair that she's been dragged into all of this, and I'm sure she doesn't deserve any pain. Looking at her face now, I can just tell that she's a good, honest, happy person who was all set to live a long and happy life. I just hope that she gains some happiness from her encounter with the beast.
Speaking of which, I've delayed long enough.
Stepping forward, I reach down and bang my right fist against one of the rails. I feel the metal vibrate, and I hear a faint humming sound spreading both ways along the track.
Once the humming sound is over, silence returns.
He's out there, though. Even if I didn't know about the beast on the tracks, I like to think that I'd be able to sense him. I mean, he just exudes a kind of unmissable presence, and I honestly don't understand how the people of Sobolton can be so completely unaware. I guess maybe they're just not very observant, although sometimes I consider another possibility. Is it possible that people here in Sobolton do know that there's something strange on the edge of town, and they just choose to not investigate? Is it possible that they've been subconsciously scared away?
Maybe it just hasn't called out to them, the way it called out to me.
I look both ways along the lines again, but in truth I know which way to go. If I turn left, the track just curls its way out of town and heads out toward the horizon. I grab Milly's wrists again, and I start dragging her to the right, following the line as it heads across the cemetery and into the forest. I know the beast is out there waiting for me, I know it's here every night and I also know that I -
I hear a cry in the distance, and I immediately put my left foot on the nearest rail. Sure enough, a moment later I feel the rail shudder, and I can't help smiling as I realize that this is the beast's signal to me that it's ready. That it's hungry. That it knows I'm coming.
“Everything's going to be okay,” I tell Milly as I start dragging her along the side of the railroad, heading through the cemetery and toward the forest. “You're gonna see something really magnificent before you die, you know. What would you rather do? Live a long and boring life, and never see anything special? Or live a little less long, but meet something spectacular?”
I continue to drag her along, leaving a pause for her to reply even though she's unconscious. After all, I don't want to be rude, and deep down I think I actually like her a great deal. She's the first one I've really liked since Victoria.
“Exactly,” I add. “Your life has been boring up until now, Milly. You've stayed within the boundaries and you've been a good girl, but all of that's about to change. Tonight, you're going to meet a god!”
Chapter Twenty-One
Richard
Five years ago...
This isn't gonna work, of course. My face must be all over the news by now, and eventually someone's gonna recognize me. I haven't even bothered trying to act normal because, well, that's never really worked for me before so I don't see why it'd work for me now. I don't think I'm even trying that hard to be inconspicuous. Maybe, deep down, I just want to get it all over with.
“That'll be two dollars and ninety-eight cents,” the girl behind the counter says.
I'm in a gas station on the edge of a town I've never heard of before, a place called Sobolton. I've been hopping from one bus to the next over the past few days, since I left home. I've carefully avoided the news, because it'll just be so boring to hear them go on about what happened to Mom and Dad. I'm just trying to buy a sandwich and a bottle of water, but the woman ahead of me in the queue is taking forever and I can already tell that the girl behind the counter is getting annoyed.
“I need two dollars and ninety-eight cents from you,” she continues with a sigh. “Lady, are you buying this candy or do you wanna move outta the way so I can serve the guy behind you?”
“Hold on a moment,” the woman says, still fishing through her purse. “You don't have to be so rude.”
I catch the girl's eye, and I offer a smile. She looks away too fast, however, so she doesn't see. A moment later, a guy comes out from one of the back rooms and wanders over to the counter.
“Lisa, I'm heading out,” he says. “Do the usual night shift stuff, okay?”
“I know the routine, Vince,” she replies, sounding utterly bored. “I've been doing it long enough now.”
As the guy leaves, the woman ahead of me is still trying to count out her coins. The process is taking way too long, and after a moment I see the reason why: her fingers are horribly twisted and swollen, and I immediately recognize the tell-tale signs of arthritis. She must be in agony. I hesitate for a moment, and then – before I really have time to realize what I'm doing – I step around her reach out for her purse.
“Here,” I say, “I can help you.”
I don't give her a chance to turn me down. I take the purse and look through the coins, and I start counting out two dollars and ninety-eight cents. I soon find, however, that maybe arthritis isn't the only problem here, and sure enough I come up twenty-three cents short.
I glance at the girl behind the counter.
“Hasn't she got enough?” she asks, rolling her eyes.
“I can shout her the rest,” I mutter, taking some coins from my pocket and putting some on the counter. “It's cool.”
“You don't have to do that,” the woman says as I hand the purse back to her.
“It's fine,” I reply. “It really doesn't matter.”
“You're an angel, is what you are,” she says, taking the candy. “I just came out without enough, that's all. I have plenty at home, but I must have forgotten to re-fill my coin purse.” I watch as her spindly fingers tuck the candy into her bag. “I don't want you thinking that I can't
afford this candy, because I can. I just forgot to bring my money, that's all.”
She turns and shuffles out, leaving me feeling a little dumbfounded at whatever just happened.
“It's the same every night,” the girl behind the counter says as I turn back to her. “Sometimes she just straight up steals candy, other times she waits for someone else to offer to pay. It's like it's some kind of routine for her. I don't know, she lives not too far away, her name's Mrs. Connor. I think she's not right in the head.”
I stare at her for a moment, not really knowing what to say.
“I didn't mind paying for her candy,” I manage finally. “It's not really a big deal, Victoria.”
She scowls.
“How do you know my name?” she asks cautiously.
“It's on your badge.”
“It's what?”
I nod toward her chest. She looks down, and it seems to take her a moment to even remember that she's wearing a badge that shows her name. When she turns back to me, she looks genuinely worried, as if she thinks I'm some kind of stalker.
“It's right there,” I add, just in case she's still confused. “I just read it, that's all.”
“Yeah,” she replies, sounding a little worried, “right. That's not weird at all.”
I set my sandwich and water on the counter, but to be honest I'm feeling pretty edgy. Victoria has her name right there on her chest, in black letters against a white background, so it's not like it's some kind of secret. I thought that using her name might be nice for her, it might make her feel like I value her being here and like she's not just some random person who doesn't matter. Instead, however, it seems to have had the opposite effect and it's almost as if she thinks that I'm weird for making an effort.
I set a note on the counter, and she starts counting out my change.
“Sorry,” I say finally.
“It's all cool,” she replies, but she still sounds cautious. “I mean, it's on my badge, right?”
“That's what I was thinking,” I tell her.
