by RJ Crayton
Elaan lifted her backpack, and stared at it. Lijah had said he’d divide their money just in case. Part of her wished he hadn’t done it. Maybe he wouldn’t have been so quick to tell them to leave if he had needed them with him.
“Spider on your pack?” Josh asked.
She was confused. “What?”
“You’re giving your backpack the evil eye, like something’s wrong with it. I thought maybe there was a spider or something.”
She shook her head, put the pack on, and walked over to join him. “I just wish we hadn’t gone without him. I wonder if he hadn’t split up the supplies, if maybe he would’ve just come with us. I mean, Willie’s going to talk no matter what. So, what’s the point of Lijah riding to the next checkpoint?”
Josh put an arm around Elaan and squeezed her to him. It felt safe and snug. “He must’ve just thought it was the best move, strategically.”
Josh frowned as he gazed outside where the sun was setting in the distance. “We need to go, Elaan.”
He slipped his hand into hers and towed her away from the mausoleum. They walked toward the horizon through the cemetery, avoiding tombstones as they trekked in the direction of a lone house surrounded by farmland. They walked quickly, not saying much, both checking to see if anyone was watching them but the area seemed deserted.
They exited the cemetery, crossed a small dirt road, and then walked through a field of dried brown leaves that clearly had been planted in neat rows.
“What is this stuff?” she asked.
“Soybeans, maybe,” he said.
She nodded and kept walking. There wasn’t much else to say. She didn’t want to talk to Josh. She didn’t blame him for Lijah’s predicament but she was irritated that he hadn’t tried harder to convince Lijah to get off the train. Now, she was here with Josh, and Lijah was stuck with some crazed pedophile. It was hard to believe just yesterday she’d been irritated with Lijah. Just yesterday, she’d actually walked out of a room because Lijah had been in it. She’d give anything to have Lijah here with her. To know he was safe.
A breeze came through, blowing her hair into her face. She brushed it from her eyes and walked quietly beside Josh, the house looming nearer.
“He’s going to be OK,” Josh said.
“You don’t know that,” she shot back.
“I don’t,” Josh said, his voice demurring. “But I’d bet on Lijah any day of the week, and he was clearly in control when we left him.”
She didn’t respond. She didn’t want to argue with him. Being in control when they left was no guarantee Lijah would stay that way. She blew out and focused on the crunch of the plants beneath their sneakers and the little house that was growing larger as they neared it. There was nothing else to say to Josh about Lijah. Elaan eyed the house. It seemed deserted and lonely, the same way she felt. Not that she wasn’t glad to have Josh with her, but she was lost without Lijah. He’d promised to take her to their mother, and she knew she’d get there with him. If nothing else, Lijah was one hundred percent rock solid. He was dependable. Having to go it without him frightened her. She and Josh had both viewed Lijah as the leader of their group. Now, he was gone, and she didn’t even know if he was safe.
She sighed as they neared the house. The two-story house had a wraparound porch and tall windows. Elaan could see chipped paint on the white wooden slats that made up the house’s siding. The windows were closed, but the curtains in many rooms were open. They approached cautiously, not wanting someone to come out and shoot them for trespassing. If the place was empty, it would be the perfect spot to rest for the night. It was sheltered from the weather and seemed enough off the beaten path that they could avoid the military patrols.
They didn’t see a car in the carport. Whoever lived here wasn’t home at the moment. The question was whether they were coming back or if the place was completely deserted.
Josh took the lead, walking up the stairs to the porch. The wooden boards creaked with each step. Elaan followed, her nerves flaring every time a rickety board groaned beneath their weight. Josh walked along the porch until he reached one of the windows. Elaan joined him, peeking inside.
It was a typical farmhouse room — chairs, a sofa, a little table in the corner, and a cabinet in the back with glass windows that held decorative plates. If she angled her head, Elaan could even see a television directly across from the sofa. The things inside seemed untouched, as if they were set up for museum viewing. She took a step back and examined the layer of dust on the windows. They hadn’t been cleaned in a long time. A good sign that the place wasn’t in use by anyone.
“Seems empty,” she said.
“I’ll knock on the door,” Josh said. “Just to check. We don’t want to try to break in if someone’s already in there. You stay here.”
He turned to walk the few paces over, but Elaan put her hand on his shoulder. “Wait,” she said. “I should go, too.”
He raised an eyebrow, and shook his head. “No. We don’t know who might answer the door.”
He was right about that, but she should still go with him. “I’m a girl,” she said, emphasizing the last word. “People are less threatened by girls. If someone answers who’s inclined to be hostile, they’ll be less hostile with me than with you, right?”
“I can deal with hostility, Elaan,” he said. “Plus, we’re both young. People understand young people who are lost, especially in times like these.”
Elaan bit her lip. She didn’t want him to go to the door. She looked back in the window. The furniture inside was probably dusty too, though it was hard to tell through the grimy view. She couldn’t imagine anyone being in there. Knocking was really just a precaution, but she was a little worried what would happen if someone did answer. “What if the person who answers the door is sick?” she asked. She didn’t want Josh to be turned into a carrier.
He smiled at her, sighed. “It’s a good point, and one I’ve thought of. But if I were alone, I’d knock on the door, and deal with the consequences. I’m not going to let you take that risk when I’m here with you. Besides, what if the person who answers the door is like —” he paused, as if deciding whether to continue. “What if it’s someone like Willie?”
The sound of that name made her cringe. She’d spent one night on a train with him, and thoughts of his creepiness would forever haunt her. She nodded, so Josh spoke again. “I don’t want someone to grab you, pull you inside, and lock the door.”
Whoa! That wasn’t what she’d expected to hear, but it made sense. Still, she was torn. It was brave of him to take the risk to protect her, but she didn’t want him to be turned into a carrier, or worse, injured by a psycho inhabitant, just because he was trying to help her. That was too much of a price to pay.
“Why don’t we knock together?” she said, grabbing his hand.
“OK,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Ms. Stubborn, we’ll go together.”
Holding hands, they walked over to the wooden door, and Josh used his free hand to knock. “Anyone home,” he called out.
They waited and heard nothing. Elaan saw no one in the immediate area. She didn’t want to be spied by a neighbor who might call the police. Though, there weren’t any neighbors, as far she could see. Just farmland. Rotting fields and nothingness.
“Anyone here?” Josh called out, rapping on the door again. They waited and still no response.
“Try the door,” Elaan said.
Josh released her hand and tried the doorknob. It didn’t budge. “Locked,” he said. “Stay here. I’ll go around back and see if there’s an open door. If it’s not open, maybe I can jimmy it.”
He started to walk away and Elaan followed. “Josh, I don’t think we should split up.”
He stopped and faced her. He wore a glower, but his eyes were sympathetic. After a moment of consideration, he sighed and turned to start walking again. “Alright. Come on.”
They took the porch all the way around to the back of the house, where they found a sliding
glass door leading to the kitchen. A battered screen door stood just outside the glass one. There was a small hole in the lower left side, where a squirrel or mouse or something had gnawed through, but then realized it was pointless, as it couldn’t penetrate the glass door.
Josh tugged on the sliding screen door. It didn’t move. It was locked. He knelt down, reached into the hole, and began ripping the screen.
“What are you doing?” Elaan asked.
“Just going to pull this out, and see if the inner door is open.” He tugged at the screen until he’d ripped it the height of the door, and the screen hung from its frame like a curtain. He tugged on the glass door. It opened.
Josh smiled, pulling the door all the way back. “After you, milady,” he said.
Chapter 8
Willie was sitting in the corner of the boxcar, his eyes slits and his jaw a solid ridge of anger. Lijah watched him carefully, the gun trained on his torso. Lijah stood about ten feet away from Willie, so he would see a move when Willie made one. And Lijah was sure Willie planned to make a move. It was a question of when, not if.
Lijah had the gun and the upper hand for the moment, but that would all change the instant they hit another checkpoint. Lijah had given it careful thought. He knew the longest they’d gone without a checkpoint was four hours. That was the most time he could expect to have, but he didn’t know if one was coming sooner than that. It had been about fifty minutes since Josh and Elaan had gotten off the train. Lijah’s plan was to wait another twenty minutes, and then make Willie jump from the train.
That meant Willie would have a half an hour to find shelter before curfew. It also meant Willie wouldn’t be able to contact anyone about what or whom he’d seen until morning. If his plan worked, Lijah could ride the train another hour, then get off before the next checkpoint. Then, he’d be like Josh and Elaan, going it on foot, or via stolen car, the rest of the trip.
However, getting off an hour after Willie also meant Lijah would definitely be violating the curfew. If spotted, he’d definitely get arrested or shot. Though, he didn’t know whether the curfew was enforced. Willie had mentioned it, but was he referring only to the big cities? What if in Middle America, they just didn’t have the resources to patrol the countryside? That meant his plan for Willie would go astray, too. Willie might walk up to the next cop he saw and tell him he’d seen fugitives escaping on a train heading to St. Louis. He might even tell the cop where Elaan and Josh had gotten off.
He sighed. The best thing for them all would be if Willie were dead. But Lijah couldn’t kill another human being just because it was what was best for himself. He didn’t want to be like that, like the people he was running from. People who had decided it would be better for the world if Lijah and those like him were dead. Lijah couldn’t kill Willie just because it would make his life easier.
Now, if Willie attacked him, and it were Lijah or Willie, Lijah was certain he’d choose his own life. But without those circumstances, making Willie jump from the train seemed the best bet. If Willie did it right, he’d be OK. Lijah wouldn’t have killed him. Though, if Willie did it wrong…. That was the part that worried Lijah. If Willie did it wrong, and he got under the wheels somehow or landed wrong, he’d die. It would still be as if Lijah had killed him. Forcing Willie out could be a death sentence as much as shooting him.
Lijah shook his head. No, Willie was wily enough to get safely to the ground. The man had survived this long. Surely, he could survive a jump and a night in the elements. And Lijah could do fine in the wilderness. The key thing was not getting caught.
“Thinking ’bout how you gonna kill me?” Willie asked, his voice hard.
Lijah stared and shook his head. “I don’t want to kill you, Willie,” he admitted. “All I want. All I’ve wanted this whole trip is to be done with you so I can go on my merry way. But you’ve made it so we’re stuck with each other a bit longer.”
“You can get off this train, and I won’t tell nobody ‘bout you,” Willie said, a hopeful gleam in his eye.
“Willie, if you’d done one thing you ever said you would, I’d make that deal with you and hop off right now. But all you’ve ever done is double-cross me.”
Willie shook his head. “That was the lust that did it to me, boy,” he said. “I wasn’t in my right mind with such a pretty, nubile young thing on board. But now that she’s gone, I can think clearly. I did you wrong, and you have every right not to trust me, but I promise you, I’m on the straight and narrow now. You can leave me be, and I’ll forget this all happened.”
Willie stood there, pretending to be earnest and sad. Lijah had half a mind to believe him. Lust was a powerful thing, even when you knew you were in the wrong. He’d wanted Josh and hurt his sister because of it. But even if he believed Willie meant what he said, Lijah couldn't afford to trust him. Willie was old enough to know better, and Lijah was sure it hadn’t been lust driving his decisions; it had been the belief that he could get away with taking Elaan without repercussions.
That had been a foolish belief, because it had thrown everyone’s plans into disarray. Now, all four of them were stuck doing things they wished they didn’t have to do.
“Willie,” Lijah said. “I can let bygones be bygones. You and I will be all copasetic. You just have to get off of this train.”
Chapter 9
Willie bared his teeth and squinted. “You’re tryin’ta kick me offa my train,” he growled. “It don’t work that way, boy.”
Lijah held the gun out farther, stiffened his arm, a hardness in his eyes. “I’m afraid it’s going to work that way tonight.” Lijah glanced at the boxcar door to his left and then back at Willie. There was no use in waiting. He needed to do this now, because Willie wasn’t going to go easy. “I’m going to open that door, and you’re going to jump.”
“While the train is moving?” Willie asked.
Lijah nodded.
“That’ll kill me just as good as my gun that you’re pointing at me.”
“It’s my gun, now, Willie,” Lijah said, his voice resolute, stronger than he’d expected. “And the jump won’t kill you. Just pay attention and try to go into a roll away from the train.”
“And if instead of going away from the train, I get crushed by its wheels? You’d really kill me, boy?” Willie asked.
Lijah kept the gun held steady, despite his irritation at Willie for calling him ‘boy.’ He wasn’t sure if Willie was trying to rile him on purpose, so he’d lose his concentration, or if he was just so mad at the situation he didn’t care about insulting the man holding a gun on him. Lijah took a deep breath and spoke calmly. “Willie, you have to get off this train. If you die, then it’s on your head. You set this in motion when you backed out of our deal and tried to take my sister.”
Willie stood there, seething, his breath heavy, his beady eyes trained on Lijah. They both trembled from the motion of the train, but both were firm in all the ways that counted: their stances, eye contact and resolve etched into their faces.
Lijah lifted the gun slightly higher. He needed to check his watch, which was on the hand holding the gun. His eyes darted to the ticking hands, and he realized it had been an hour. Keeping the gun trained on Willie the entire time, he edged to the door. Willie grinned at him. It took a moment for Lijah to realize what had Willie so jazzed. Lijah would need both hands to open the door.
“Go ahead,” Willie said. “Open the door to throw me off the train.”
Lijah gritted his teeth, but said nothing. He needed a minute to think. He had to get Willie off the train, and the only way to do that was to open the door, but if he set the gun down Willie would pounce on him. He’d bested Willie earlier today. But did he want to bet his own life that he could best him again? On a moving train? Even if he managed to get the door open, what if Willie just barreled into him? The force would knock Lijah right off the train. If the older man ran straight at him, Willie wouldn’t be able to stop and would end up off the train with Lijah. But if he ran
at the right angle, he could maintain his momentum, knock Lijah out the door, and remain safe inside. The guy had taught science, so he was probably pretty decent at math, too, and could figure out the angle he’d need so that he stayed on the train while Lijah went barreling over the side.
Lijah wanted to close his eyes and think, to block out the world for a minute so he could get a clearer picture of what to do. But he couldn’t do that. Willie was over there considering how to get the gun away from him.
Then it hit Lijah what to do. He took several steps backward, away from the door handle. “Come over to the door.”
Willie hesitated, and Lijah, who’d been holding the gun near his body, aimed it square at Willie’s his chest. “I said, come over to the door.”
Willie pursed his lips and glared, but complied. The older man walked until he was parallel with the door, but only a few feet in front of Lijah.
“Stop,” Lijah said firmly, though his heart hammered inside his chest.
Willie stopped.
“You’re gonna open the door,” Lijah said.
Willie shook his head. “No, I’m not.”
Lijah snorted. “Now is not the time to get defiant,” he said, brandishing the gun.
Willie shook his head again. “If I were to attack you, maybe you shoot me and tell yourself it’s self-defense. Maybe you can live with that. Maybe you won’t have nightmares every day for the rest of your life about killing me. I think you would. I think shooting me, even if you gave yourself the lame excuse that you did it as self-defense, would haunt you. It would make you know what a truly awful human being you were for taking the life of another man. Another of God’s creatures.”
Lijah swallowed but said nothing. Willie had the trace of a smirk on his lips.
“But I know you wouldn’t shoot me in cold blood. You wouldn’t simply murder me. It’s not who you are. If it were, you would’ve shot me and got off the train with your sister. You didn’t. Even this plan to dump me on the side of the tracks is designed to let me live. So, I’m not opening this door.”
