by Dan Decker
My next thought was for Shannon. She was over by the exit again; I could tell that she'd been trying to determine whether she'd be able to survive a jump. We made eye contact, she said something I couldn't hear but it looked like her lips had formed the words “You idiot.” She leaped over the row in front of her and lay down between the seats.
I dove to the floor and grabbed onto the bottom of the nearest bench. The train on the other track had met up to us and was now passing by on the other side. I held my breath, hoping for a miracle. It didn't come.
The explosion came several heartbeats later.
Our train lurched. There was a brief second when I thought that we were going to be all right, and then we rolled.
Chapter 2
I opened my eyes with a start. The heavy smell of smoke, burning rubber, and blood filled the air. The train car had been cast in gloom but there was light overhead. From my vantage point, I couldn't determine the exact source of the light but I could at least tell that some of it was coming from a fire. Alarmed, I looked around and was relieved that I couldn’t see flames.
How long had I been out? I looked at my watch, but I couldn't remember what time it had been when the bomb had gone off. My best guess was that I'd been unconscious for only a few minutes. I hoped it hadn't been longer. The emergency response crews would be on the scene shortly, Shannon and I needed to be gone before that happened.
I tried to stand, but slipped and fell, knocking my head against an armrest. The floor was wrong. I looked up and saw rows of seats on the wall. I felt foolish for not remembering that the train car had been knocked over by the blast.
Once I was on my feet again, I could see that the light was coming through the broken windows that were now overhead. My original assessment that the reflected firelight had been coming from outside was correct. I could just see the tips of flames dancing out there.
When I took a step, shards of glass crunched underneath my foot. I paused and tried to listen for the emergency response vehicles over the sounds of the nearby burning fire and the cries of injured passengers. It was made doubly hard because there was a ringing in my ears as well.
Nothing.
A wave of guilt hit me when I heard a long groan.
I had done this. I’d thrown the bomb out the window.
Taking a deep breath, I released it and closed my eyes. I hadn't been responsible for this and I knew it. I tried to put the matter from my mind; this was something to deal with later.
“Shannon?” my voice came out unsteady and cracked. It sounded far away. There was a dull ringing in my ears. I licked my lips and tasted blood. I tried a bit louder. “Shannon.”
“Nice job dummy,” Shannon said. She was about six feet away in the middle of a heap of passengers. I rushed to her, taking care not to step on anybody else. Many of the people around her were starting to sit up. A few were making sounds of pain.
The dark made it hard for me to tell if anybody was in need of serious medical attention. I hoped they weren't, partially for selfish reasons. If they were, I didn't think I'd be able to leave until proper medical help arrived or I was certain they would survive.
I knelt beside Shannon and put a hand on her head as she tried to get up. Her forehead felt cool and was slippery. I held my hand up to the light and saw that it was covered in blood. Glad that my slacks were black today, I wiped it onto my thigh.
“Wait,” I said, to keep her from moving. I kneeled beside her and did my best to examine her in the low level of light. There was blood on her face and arms as well, but nothing looked broken. She was cast in shadow so I was unable to tell if her pupils were dilated. “Do you feel pain?” She looked like she had a concussion. I probably did too for that matter, my head felt awful.
“Of course I feel pain, everywhere hurts!”
“Anything broken?”
“No!” she snapped as I remembered that I could use my phone as a flashlight. “Get off me! I should have taken the bomb. A child would have done better than you. Throwing a bomb onto the train tracks? Did somebody replace your brains with jello?”
“I didn't hear you offering to take it.” I pulled out my phone and tried to examine her using the flashlight app, but Shannon pushed me out of the way.
“That's because I took the door, which I got open didn’t I? It’s your fault now that we can’t use it.” I released my hold on her and recognized that she was correct; the door was on the side facing the ground. Her snarky attitude set my mind at ease about her well being but I could feel my conscience pricking up in the back of my mind again.
Once my panic for Shannon was gone, I turned my attentions to those around me and considered making a call to the authorities, but hesitated because I wanted to make sure that Shannon and I had enough time to disappear.
Malcolm had been on the phone when the bomb had gone off. I seemed to remember him saying that he'd been talking to the police but he might have been trying to get through to the train operator like I'd asked him to do. I couldn’t remember, my mind was foggy. When I overheard a woman on her phone reporting what happened, that solved my dilemma. Good enough, help would soon be on the way. We still needed to get out of here and catch up to Cherry and Tom.
Using my phone as a light, I did a quick circuit checking for serious injuries. I was relieved that I didn’t see anybody that required immediate attention. The only dead I found were those who’d died earlier in the gunfight. This didn’t alleviate any of my guilt though. Our train car had been further on before the explosion, others wouldn’t be so lucky. People had undoubtedly died.
When I was satisfied that I could leave the train car without feeling like I was abandoning somebody in serious need of help, I returned to Shannon. She was standing and holding a handkerchief to the side of her head. Presuming that this was the cause of the blood, I asked to see it. I was relieved to see that it wasn't bad.
“Time to get out of here,” Shannon said.
“You sure you can make it?” I asked.
She just glared at me in response, daring me to question her health again. It was a legitimate question, but I let it go.
Using a seat as a foothold, I grabbed onto the lip a broken window. I couldn't tell if this was the window I'd cleared out earlier because every other window had broken during the wreck.
As I scrambled through to the top of the overturned car, several shards of glass ripped my suit jacket on the way out. One even drew a little blood from my side. Once I was on top, I surveyed the mess, squinting while my eyes adjusted to the direct sunlight and tried to make sense of the damage the explosion had caused. The oncoming train that had hit the bomb was off the track, collapsed, the cars folded into each other and burning. The flames reached about thirty feet into the air; it was no wonder that I had seen them from inside.
Many of the cars from our train were overturned. I tried again to stuff my guilt away to deal with it later. None of this was my fault.
I just wish I would have noticed the pole.
I wasn’t sure what I would have done if I’d seen the other train. The beeping had been getting louder just before I threw it. If I’d have known about the second train, I would have hesitated and we’d be dead right now.
There was a voice inside my head that said it was better that other people had died rather than us, but I shut it out. I couldn’t afford to think like that. Making those kinds of judgments wasn't something I should be doing.
There was a sound coming from below me. When I looked, Shannon was coming through the window I'd used. I reached my hand down to her, but she pushed it away. I wasn't surprised, but I would have thought that if there was ever a situation where she'd be glad for a helping hand, this would have been it.
“We don’t have time for you to admire your handiwork,” Shannon said as she surveyed the scene, “we need to get going.”
The comment made me clench my fists. Couldn't she lay off? I'd only been trying to do what I could to help. Sure, it hadn't worked out but I
hadn't heard her volunteering to handle the bomb. She'd been only too glad to focus on the door and leave it to me.
I'd taken on the no-win situation and done the best I could, especially considering the fact that Malcolm had been hovering over me every step of the way, making it difficult to work.
Another head appeared in the window while I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. Speak of the devil.
I offered Malcolm a hand, despite the fact that I was still frustrated with his earlier actions. He took it and was bleeding in several new places once he was up. He looked like he survived the wreck well enough.
When I glanced back at Shannon, her face reflected her true emotions about the situation. Despite her words laying the blame on me, she was feeling guilt for not getting the bomb off the train in time to save lives. I could understand that and I could even understand her need to pin the blame on me. That helped me put things into perspective.
I hadn't built the bomb or left it on the train. This was Payne's fault and I needed to get that through my thick head.
“Help the others,” I said to Malcolm and walked to the side of the overturned car, looking for a way down. Shannon was already there doing the same thing.
“You can’t leave,” Malcolm said when he saw what we were doing.
I didn’t turn back. I felt bad not staying to help, but there was little we could do. The police and emergency response teams would be here soon and they were trained to handle situations like this.
There was a loud crack and I looked over to one of the burning cars. There was another that coincided with a burst pushing the flames even higher; it was followed by several more. I hoped the emergency teams were close.
It took some finagling, but we used the bottom of the train car to climb down. Once we had, I took a deep breath. The anger and frustration I'd been feeling towards Shannon and Malcolm had dissipated. My attention was now focusing on Payne. There hadn't been a good reason for him to do what he did. The people on the train hadn't been a threat to him.
I didn't need to ask Shannon what she wanted to do next because she was already on her phone trying to get a hold of Cherry so we could catch up to the others. I was glad that she wanted to continue our mission as well, because I wasn't about to turn back to Black Brick and hadn't wanted to leave her behind.
Shannon was a mess though. The cut on her head had stopped bleeding but we'd have to stop to clean the blood off her face and out of her hair. Luckily, her coat had taken the worst of the blood and once we ditched it, she'd look presentable.
I had a sudden thought and checked my pocket. The pistol I'd used to shoot out the window was missing. I tried to remember what I'd done with it after I'd used it last. I was drawing a blank. Had I set it down on one of the seats or had it come out of my pocket during the explosion?
I berated myself for not thinking about it until now and turned back to the car as the sound of sirens filled the air. There wasn’t time to go back. That was one unnecessary piece of evidence that shouldn’t have been left behind.
I still had another pistol on me, in addition to the backup I kept on my ankle, but Beltran wouldn’t be happy. He hated to get his hands involved in other agencies to clean up a mess.
Chapter 3
As I stepped into the high-rise office building, I resisted shaking my head to get the ringing out of my ears. From what I could tell, my hearing was normal, even though it felt like there was cotton in them. It had been close to an hour since we'd left the site of the train bombing and I hoped that the ringing would soon go away. It was making my headache worse. Or maybe it was the other way around.
Shannon and I had popped into the bathroom of a gas station and done our best to clean up. I had smoothed out my hair and done what I could to make my coat presentable. I was lucky that I was wearing a black shirt as well as a black suit, the blood stains that I was sure were there weren't showing.
There were several minor tears in the fabric of my suit jacket, but nothing that would cause the casual passerby to take special note of me. If anyone looked too closely, they might wonder, but I doubted that anybody would suspect that I’d survived an explosion.
Despite our better judgment, we’d also taken a moment to call Black Brick to give an update on what happened. Beltran's voice was calm but I could tell he was struggling to keep it that way. Initially, he'd ordered us back to Black Brick. I had pointed out that Cherry and Tom were chasing a mad man with a team of thugs by themselves so unless he was willing to call them back as well, we needed to catch up. There had been a long pause before he'd spoken.
“Find Lauren Griffith and Payne, kill Payne if you have too. Then get back here. It won’t be long before the police are looking for you. In all that confusion somebody took pictures of you two, guarantee it.”
Shannon had entered the building ahead of me. She’d done a better job at cleaning up, after she ditched her coat she almost looked normal. She'd let her hair down and it did a good job of covering up the cut on the side of her head. There was also a wound on her hand that still had a raw look to it, but it had stopped bleeding.
While I'd waited for Shannon at the gas station earlier, I’d used my phone to check the news. I’d been surprised that the media hadn’t yet picked up on the fact that it had been a bomb. The accident was being explained as a collision between the two trains. That wouldn’t last for much longer, but for the moment it meant that other than official personnel, the average person wouldn't have any clue that something more sinister had happened. It would provide us with a time buffer in which to apprehend Payne and Griffith.
The lobby of the office building was spacious with a marble floor, plush couches, and expensive chandeliers. There were several televisions that were tuned to the news. They were featuring footage of the train wreck from helicopters.
“Do you see him?” Shannon asked me.
I shook my head.
We were looking for Tom. Shannon's call to Cherry earlier had gone to voicemail, so she'd left a brief message and then tried Tom. He'd picked up on the first ring.
After telling us the address of a building Payne had disappeared into and complaining that he couldn't find Cherry, he'd hung up. Shannon, who had recognized the address Tom provided, had been asking what floor they were on when he'd disconnected. She had tried calling him back but he didn't answer.
When I had suggested that she send a text, she had rolled her eyes as she begun to type. That had been over fifty minutes ago and he still hadn't texted back.
When she noticed me looking, Shannon checked her phone again and shook her head.
I surveyed the lobby trying to decide what to do next. The office building had a parking garage that was several levels deep, so we wouldn't be able to observe all of the exit points of the building from here. There was a coffee shop nearby with tables that spilled out into the open area and there wasn't an empty table to be found. The other side of the lobby had vendors selling newspapers, magazines, and bagels.
I was trying to decide what to do next when Shannon spotted Tom walking purposefully toward us and elbowed me in the side. I refrained from flinching in pain; she hadn't been very gentle about it. I didn't know if she hadn't been paying attention to what she was doing or if she was still trying to displace her guilt as anger towards me. Tom shook our hands with a warm smile on his face as if he was greeting clients. He pointed out a stairwell and we followed him towards it.
“Couldn’t come a little faster?” Tom asked looking at me when he was sure that there wasn't anybody within earshot of us. “I’ll hold you responsible if anything happens to Cherry. Lucky for you we were able to track down a keycard before we became separated.”
“Turns out your past comes in useful, eh?” I said, assuming he’d stolen it. “You didn't have to come for us. You let us slow you down.”
Like everybody else, Tom didn't talk about his life before he'd joined Beltran's little organization, but I’d gathered enough to know that he was an experien
ced thief, which was surprising considering he'd been recruited as a kid. I'd wondered what set of circumstances had pushed him to the wrong side of the law so early in life, but hadn't tried to dig into it. There was an unspoken expectation that we didn't share much about our past lives. We certainly didn't ask questions about others.
Tom didn’t answer as he unlocked the door and let us in, still playing the part of a professional with his clientele.
“What is it with you two?” Shannon said once the door to the stairwell was shut behind us. “You remind me of brothers.”
“You don’t have to like somebody to respect them enough to work with them,” Tom said.
“You think I respect you?” I countered showing more hostility than I wanted to. I was irritated that he decided on his own to meet us and then griped about having to wait.
Shannon’s comment reminded me of something Cherry had said on our flight to San Diego when we’d had a few minutes alone at the airport. Tom and I had been snapping at each other again. “The problem between you and Tom has more to do with Shannon than either of you would care to admit.”
I hadn’t responded because I wasn’t going to let Cherry fish any details out of me. I didn't know what Shannon or I had done to make her suspect something, but I wouldn't do anything to confirm it. I'd even considered making a comment about her and Martinez, but I'd let it pass.
Was Shannon the reason that Tom had come to meet us in the lobby? Was he interested in making sure that she had an extra person to protect her? If that was his reasoning, it would be on him if anything happened to Cherry. The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that I was right.
“Quit it you two,” Shannon said, breaking into my thoughts. “I won’t put up with this for much longer and may have to shoot one of you.”
“Hey, I was being polite,” Tom said, flashing an ingratiating but annoying smile.
I didn’t reply as I went up the stairs, two at a time. I was sweating a bit by the time we reached the ninth floor but wasn’t breathing heavily. Being in shape had its benefits. Shannon was covered in a sheen of sweat that made her more attractive; Tom was panting but I decided not to point it out.
