The Beast on the Tracks

by Amy Cross

  She steps into the cottage, and after a moment Richard comes over to stand next to me.

  “You look shocked,” he says, keeping his voice low. “Is it safe to say that this place has come as something of a surprise?”

  “I've walked past here a thousand times,” I reply, as the slow sense of dread continues to twist and turn in my chest, “and there was no cottage. I thought I knew this entire forest, down to the nearest tree, but now I'm starting to think that maybe I only knew what I was being allowed to know.”

  “You sound like you think someone's trying to fool you,” he suggests cautiously.

  “Someone,” I reply, my mind still racing as I try to come up with an explanation. “Or something.”

  ***

  “What a dump, huh?” Debs says a few minutes later, as Richard and I make our way into the cottage and see her flicking through some old journals that are laid out on a desk. “Do you guys notice that smell? I think whoever lives here maybe doesn't wash all that often.”

  “Let me see those books,” Richard says, pushing past me and heading over to the desk.

  “This isn't a home,” I point out, looking around at the general mess. The cottage's interior is a complete and utter mess. Maybe the place was nice once, but those days are long gone and I'm getting the feeling that perhaps the cottage was abandoned before someone else came along and...

  Squatted here?

  Stepping past some chairs, I stop as I see a large bone on the floor. I lean down to take a quicker look, and I realize there are marks on the side of the bone. It's almost as if someone has been chewing on this thing, and – while I'm no expert – I feel as if the bone looks suspiciously human. Like it came from someone's arm.

  “It's him,” Richard says.

  I turn and see that he's looking at one of the journals.

  “It's him,” he says again, looking at me. “It all makes sense now. Whoever he was, he was some kind of hobo living in the forest, and he tricked me into thinking he was my father.” He pauses. “No, I tricked myself,” he adds finally. “I was such a mess, I imagined that he was my father, and he took advantage of that and played along. I thought my father's ghost had come back to punish me for what I did, but now I see the truth. It was just some hobo with a taste for human flesh. It's all right here in these books.”

  “You're gonna have to run that by me again,” I tell him. “Is this the same guy who fell into the chipper in my bunker?”

  “These journals start out pretty neat,” he explains, as he flicks through a couple more. “It looks like he was running from something. Maybe a fugitive, I don't know. I can see how a cannibal could end up being on the run from the law. The handwriting gets sloppier over time, though, as if he was losing his mind.” He stops at one of the pages. “He's been hiding here for years. He writes about bumping into a kid in the cemetery. He describes me as a complete madman.” He turns to another page. “Here. He explicitly says that I've mistaken him for his father. He was using me.”

  I glance at Debs. She's standing next to the lamp, trying to warm her hands, but she looks a little worried. I guess she's overheard everything we're talking about right now.

  “It's okay,” I mouth to her silently.

  “I'm such a mess,” Richard says, slumping down into a nearby chair. “My head is completely screwed.”

  “Not necessarily,” I tell him. “I'm starting to think that this forest, or something in it, might have been manipulating events for quite some time.”

  “You sound nuts,” Debs says. “Forests aren't alive. Are you two trying to be funny?”

  “Just give us a moment,” I say as I head over to Richard and kneel in front of him. Looking up into his face, I can see the confusion and fear all over his features. “I need you to stay with me, okay?” I continue, reaching out and touching his left hand. “I know this is a bad time, but we both need to figure out what's really been happening here.”

  “I'm mad!” he snaps.

  “You're not,” I reply, “and don't use that word.”

  “You two are both insane,” Debs says.

  I turn and glare at her, but she just rolls her eyes and looks back down at the lamp.

  “We're going to figure this out,” I tell Richard. “We're going to look at it logically, and we're going to take our time. And look on the bright side. Whatever was happening, whatever was controlling you, you've broken free now. You see it for what it is. So that's a start, right?”

  “I'm a bad person,” he whispers, fixing me with an intense stare. “I killed my own father.”

  “Hey,” I reply with a smile, “I killed my father too!”

  “And I killed my mother,” he adds.

  “Oh, well, I didn't do that,” I tell him, “but I totally could have done. I watched my father getting fed into the wood chipper and I didn't do a thing to help him. I just stood and watched until all the chunks came flying out the other end. Everyone thought it must have been an accident but, well, I know the truth. I just stood there and watched him die, and do you know something? I think I actually enjoyed it.”

  “You did?” he asks.

  I nod.

  “So,” I continue, “if you're a bad person, then so am I. And maybe it'd be good if we work together for a little while, huh?”

  “To do what?”

  “To figure out exactly what's been happening to us. 'Cause I've got some shit to work through as well, and it's been tough doing it alone. I'm starting to think that maybe...”

  My voice trails off. I was going to tell him that I think maybe we've been brought together for a reason, that something about this night was all designed to make sure that – no matter what choices we made – we'd end up right here, right now, together. Then again, I figure that might all sound kinda intense, so it might be better if I just keep my mouth shut for a little while and let Richard draw his own conclusions. I don't want to seem desperate.

  “My life before tonight felt chaotic,” I say finally. “I swear, it was like the present and the past were always crashing together, like I was constantly reliving the worst parts of my life. And I don't exactly know what changed tonight, or how, but for the first time I feel as if my life has become... linear. Like excerpts of the past are no longer splicing themselves into my view. That's such a huge change. I feel like I'm in control now.”

  “Me too,” he replies cautiously. “The thing about the past, I mean. It was just... flickering in and out of everything I did.”

  “So this is an improvement already, right?” I say. “We know what we're doing now. We know how to go straight ahead.”

  I wait for him to reply, but I can tell that he's not quite so certain. After a moment, however, I hear a faint bumping sound, and Richard and I both turn to see Debs staring at us from over on the other side of the room. I guess she must have heard every word that we just said.

  And that's going to be a problem.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Milly

  “Listen, you guys can hang around here all you want, but I'm going to go home. I'll find my own way, though. Don't worry. I'll be fine.”

  She seems to be panicking a little as she hurries out to the cottage and into the cold night air. She even bumps her shoulder against the door-frame in her haste, but she doesn't let that slow her down. It's pretty obvious that she wants to get as far away from us as possible.

  “Hey, you don't need to run off like this,” I say, hurrying after her as I fumble for the knife and pull it back out from my pocket. “Debs, we should stick together.”

  “You guys stick together, I'm off.”

  “But you're forgetting one thing,” I add, before reaching out and slicing the back of her left arm.

  “What the hell?” She spins around and glares at me.

  I manage to hide the knife just in time.

  “Another branch?” I ask, as she examines the cut and a bead of blood runs down to her wrist.

  She stares at me, and then she looks around.<
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  “We're in a clearing,” she points out, quite reasonably. “There are no branches.”

  “Huh,” I reply, figuring that perhaps the game is up. “Well, what do you know? You seem to be right about that.”

  I wait for her to make the next move, but for a few seconds she seems frozen in place. Then, slowly, she looks down at my right hand, at the hand that's concealing the knife. I guess I could show her the blade or something, but that'd feel kinda pointless and obvious, and I'd rather try to stay subtle for a little while. Besides, it's kinda thrilling to be in the middle of a chase, to know exactly what I'm going to do to Debs and to only have to pick my moment.

  “What are you?” she asks finally, her voice cracking slightly with fear.

  “What do you mean?” I reply.

  “We're friends, aren't we?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I think so.”

  “You seem different tonight.”

  “How so?”

  “I don't know, but I don't like it.” She takes a step back. “That guy you're with is weird.”

  Turning, I see that Richard's standing in the doorway, watching us. A moment later, hearing footsteps, I turn just in time to see Debs racing away across the clearing. I hesitate for a moment, wondering whether it'd be simpler to just let her go, but then I rush after her. To my great delight and surprise, I find that I'm much faster, so I quickly manage to grab her from behind and pull her back, and I send her slamming down hard against the forest floor. She lets out a loud gasp as she lands on her back.

  I'm a little out of breath as I step over her.

  “If it makes you feel any better,” I say, “I really don't think you could have avoided this tonight. I think certain events were fixed, they had to happen, and this is one of them. You might not have noticed the stars looking different tonight, but they are different, and there's no fighting it. We're all caught up in something that's a whole lot bigger than we can realize right now.”

  She pulls back, and I can tell that she's desperately trying to figure out how to escape. Or will she simply scream first? No, I think she'll try to run. That'd be the smart thing to do. That's what I'd do.

  I wait.

  Make your move.

  Finally, slowly, I let the knife slide down in my hand until it's visible, and I see the horror in her eyes as she spots the blade.

  “We're friends,” she stammers. “We've been friends for years, Milly, but you know I don't like stupid games. I don't mind if you and your new boyfriend want to mess about in the forest, that's totally up to you, but I just want to go home. I won't tell anyone about any of this, I won't breathe a word, and you don't even need to show me which way to go, just... Let me go right now, okay?”

  “We are friends,” I reply, “but that doesn't really matter anymore.”

  “I know you're joking,” she says through gritted teeth. “You're no psycho, Milly. You just like to act cool. Maybe you even believe some of the crap you say, but when it comes down to it...”

  Her voice trails off, and then she slowly starts getting to her feet. She's trembling, and I can tell that she's afraid. I also know that, if I went nuts and actually let her leave, she'd tell everyone about everything that's happened tonight. The whole town would be up in arms, and my mother would damn near disown me. I could probably live all of that down, of course, were it not for the fact that tonight for the first time I know what I have to do. I half expect some freaky flashback to remind me of my childhood, but that's not happening now. Now I just have to get on with the task at hand.

  Debs straightens up once she's on her feet, but she still looks as if she's about to start running at any moment.

  “Can you really not see the stars tonight?” I ask. “Can you really not see that they're different?”

  “Stop going on about the stars!” she sneers.

  “But they're -”

  “You're out of your mind!” she shouts. “You and your new boyfriend are both nuts, and I'm gonna make you pay for all those times you cut me! You think you're so smart, but we'll see what the cops have to say!”

  She turns and runs toward the trees. I lunge at her and grab her by the shoulder, spinning her around. And then, before I even have a chance to use the knife, she falls back and slams headfirst into one of the trees. A loud cracking sound rings out, and Debs slumps to the floor.

  Looking down at her, I stare at her belly, and after a moment I see that she's still breathing. Even if there's already a bloodied patch on one side of her forehead.

  “Is she okay?” Richard asks, hurrying over to us. “Is she dead?”

  “No, she's not dead,” I reply calmly. “She just hit her head, that's all.”

  “That's lucky,” he says.

  “Do you think so?” I ask. “From her point of view? I guess the only question now is how we're going to kill her. Because we have to kill her, don't we? I think it's almost a rite of passage for us tonight.”

  I hesitate, before stepping toward Debs' unconscious body and reaching down with the knife. I figure I'll cut her throat or something like that, but at the last moment Richard grabs my arm to hold me back. When I turn to him, I see that he's staring at Debs as if he's excited about something.

  “I know exactly what we have to do with her,” he says, with a hint of anticipation in his eyes. “You're right, none of this is down to chance. We were put here to do one thing, and it's time to do it.” He turns to me. “I'm gonna show you something that'll blow your mind.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Milly

  “The railroad?” I ask as we make our way through the cemetery, toward the set of tracks that runs between the graves. “If this is what's supposed to blow my mind, I think maybe we're both gonna be disappointed.”

  “You weren't disappointed earlier tonight,” he replies, with Debs over his shoulder. “I still don't quite get how you managed to untie yourself. Are you some kind of knot master?”

  “I have no idea what you're talking about,” I tell him.

  He lets out a gasp as he sets Debs on the ground, and then he turns to me.

  “I'm talking about earlier,” he says, “when I tied you to the tracks.”

  “That never happened.”

  “I tied you down, and you got free at the last moment. That was right before you ran off into the forest and I chased you.”

  I wait for him to continue, but it's clear that he actually believes everything he just said to me. For a moment I start to wonder whether maybe he's a little delusional, and then I remind myself that destiny seems to have been working in a strange way tonight. I look up at the stars, which have gone back to normal now, and then I look at Richard again.

  “That might be how you experienced the first part of tonight,” I tell him, “but it's not how I experienced it. After you agreed to leave the party with me, I led you into the forest and...” Sighing, I realize that I'm just wasting my breath. “Never mind, it's not important,” I continue. “Not now, at least. The important thing is that we ended up right where we're apparently supposed to be.”

  He places Debs on the railroad, and then he hurries over to a nearby mausoleum and returns carrying some lengths of rope.

  “I keep a stash nearby,” he explains.

  “You know there are no actual trains on this line anymore, right?” I ask as he sets to work trying Debs in place. Her head is resting in the gap, while her wrists and ankles are getting tied to the rails. “Everyone knows about the railroad that runs through Sobolton, but it's been abandoned for decades.”

  “That's not true.”

  “Uh, it definitely is,” I tell him. “An old line running through a cemetery is weird enough, but do you seriously think that anyone in their right mind would let trains actually use it? The safety issues alone would be crazy. Listen, maybe -”

  “But I've seen it!” he says, interrupting me as he continues to tie Debs down. “I've seen the train.”

  “That might be a stretch too far.”


  “I'm serious. Whenever I tie someone down, the train comes, it's like it's drawn to the chance to kill.”

  “A murderous train?” I raise a skeptical eyebrow. “I've believed a lot of crazy shit over the years, but you're really asking me to go out on a limb here.”

  As I speak those words, I remember the sounds I've occasionally heard out here. Still, I refuse to believe that there's some mysterious, spooky train that still runs through the forest.

  “It's true, I swear,” he says. “It never stops, the driver never seems to notice that he's run someone over, or maybe he just doesn't care. It's hard to know, because I never see him. The train just comes rushing through, killing whoever's on the track, and then it carries on away into the night.”

  “Again,” I reply, “that's not possible. It doesn't make any sense.”

  “And the rest of tonight does?”

  “Fair point,” I admit, as he finishes tying Debs down and then steps back. He's already looking along the line, as if he's expecting a train to miraculously show up at any moment. “I still find it hard to believe,” I add, “that people wouldn't notice some kind of ghostly train running along the line in the middle of the night. I mean, kids play near here. The gas station's right opposite. People would notice.”

  “I can't explain it all,” he replies, “but it happens, I swear. I might have imagined a lot of other stuff, but not this or -”

  He stops, and then he turns to me.

  “Do you feel it?” he asks, with a faint smile.

  “Do I feel what?”

  “The ground's starting to rumble,” he continues. “That means the train's coming.”

  “There's no -” I start to say, before hesitating as I realize that the ground is starting to shudder slightly. I want to believe that something else is causing the sensation, but as I look around I realize that the only other possible explanation would be dead bodies rising from the ground.