The Express Train Short Story

This is an experimental short story still in the works...

“She left me,” Nick moaned and leaned against her shoulder, “Annie left me for a maple leaf man in Toronto.”

Kathy wrinkled her nose and tried to shake Nick off her jacket. He reeked of every drop of tequila he had dowsed himself with that evening ‒ and not all of them had reached his mouth. At first, she thought it was normal; he had just gone through a bad break up and she should give him the time to brood, to tell her his sorrowful tale and to flush it out of his system… but he just kept going. Their friends had fled the scene when the tears started, but Kathy stayed. She listened to him, passed him the Kleenex and kept watch in case he got into trouble. Kathy would have urged him to go home, but by that time, it was unsafe to leave him alone for any amount of time.

“I’ll call you a cab,” said Kathy, but as she fumbled through her purse for her phone, she noticed her wallet was missing. Crap. Yes, this was turning out to be a very bad night. She did find a crumpled, gone-through-several-washes five in her jacket pocket, just enough for two train tickets home. Somehow, Kathy led the wobbly Nick on a straight path to the train station and dragged him onto the platform.

“How’ll I ever compare to a yoga instructor?” Nick sobbed and pinched a bit of belly fat, “She want bacon? I’ve got a lot of bacon. But nooo she wants the round kind. Kathy, help me. Help me win her back, Kathy.”

“Keep it down will you?” Kathy hissed through gritted teeth and yanked him by the wrist, “People are looking at us and moving out of our way like we’re lepers or something. Hey,” Kathy called to man in a navy blue uniform, “excuse me, do you know when the next train to Lakewood comes?”

The attendant checked his watch. “Ten minutes ma’am.”

Kathy sighed with relief, so they hadn’t missed the last train of the night. They stopped running at about two o’clock.

“Ok Nick, why don’t we just sit down here awhile?” Kathy spun around. Where was the moaning… the arm tugging… the smell?

“Nick?”

He was gone. Evaporated. He had disappeared even faster than the beer bottles at the bar. Then she saw the dazed Nick follow a sparkly, scantily clad blonde onto the wrong train, a southbound to the Whitepine District. Kathy ran across the platform and screamed at him.

“Nick! Nick! What the hell are you doing? Get off that train!”

But Nick never listened to her. Even when they were kids living on the same block, he never listened to her. She had to bonk him on the head and lure him with a chocolate bar to get his attention ever. The doors of the cars clicked shut all at once. The wheels began to turn and the train darted out of the station.

Kathy thought she could feel her blood freeze over as she stood their alone on the platform. She shut her eyes and cursed under her breath a bit. Once she had regained some of her composure she flipped out her phone and called Nick right away. “Ok, Nick. You got onto the wrong train without me. I’ll get on the next train. I want you to get off at Greenfield station, all right? And then wait for me there.”

Luckily, another southbound Whitepine train was right at the tail of Nick’s, and Kathy boarded it immediately.

The train was a bit rusty and graffiti marked. The seats smelled like pee and waning florescent lights blinked erratically overhead. Whitepine was a shady area, a homicide every other night on the news, not to mention all the other underground crime. The state of the clunky train and the dismal sights of rundown factories outside reminded Kathy why she had never familiarized herself with the area. She was alone in the car but she wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad. Nevertheless, she clasped her purse tightly to her body.

With a sigh, Kathy chose a reasonably clean seat and let herself unwind a little, thankful for the quiet. What a bad night indeed! She should have been home by now in her cozy little apartment, sleeping like a baby, having a quiet evening. Of course, that was never the case with Sandra. She didn’t even remember why she had gone to Sandra’s to begin with. She only remembered what came after…, the, oh, you can’t go out wearing those shoes with that outfit, routine, then forced into borrowing garish heels… the slip on the ice… the heel snapping, ankle twisting unnaturally… Sandra would never forgive her. Of course, Kathy had to support Nick on her bad ankle anyway. It had been sort of like a three-legged race…  

Kathy eased her foot out of the broken heel. For lack of ice, she pressed her foot against the cool metal of the wall of the train car. She glanced at the clock on her phone. She prayed Nick would have enough control over his faculties to follow her instructions and wait for her at Greenfield station. Then, by some miracle, maybe they could catch the last train to Lakewood. Otherwise… well she didn’t like thinking about that. Thinking about her wallet and about how her phone was still in her possession, she cheered up at the thought that it might not be stolen and perhaps she left it at Sandra’s. She called Sandra to inquire, but there was no answer.

“Got any gum?”

Kathy jumped up with a startle. She dropped her phone ‒ luckily on the seat.

There was a dark, gray bundle of a man sitting in the corner of the car, dusty, knitted skullcap to holey socks. Sandra didn’t know how she overlooked him. He seemed to camouflage with the seats.

“Got any gum?” His words were molded and shaped tenderly in his mouth, as if his lips were swollen. “Chewing gum?”

Kathy blinked a few times and handed the chameleon man a stick of gum. Her phone immediately began to buzz, echoing the action of her trembling hands.

“H‒hello?” she said shakily.

It was Nick. “Kathy. The train’s not stopping.”

“What do you mean it’s not stopping?”

Nick didn’t have to answer. Kathy could hear the PA over the phone, Due to construction; this train will run express to Whitepine. Repeat.

Kathy wanted to kick something. It would not stop at Greenfield. Think about getting home later. Focus on finding Nick and making sure he’s safe. She told herself. She could see her train was passing a station now as well, a mess of plywood and left out tools in the orange light of a few high-pressure sodium street lamps. The same message came over her train loud speaker.

“Kathy, what are we doing?”

“Hang on, Nick, we’ll meet at Whitepine.”

“Kathy, I’m awful scared now… We’re going really fast.”

“Calm down. It’s the drink talking.” Kathy gripped the seat armrest.

Nick sniffled, “I’m never gonna’ see her again… Kath. I just know it.”

“Sure you will.”

“I love ya’ Kath, know that?”

“Nick, you’re not using your head.”

“I love ya’‒”

A crackle and a snap. Kathy heard the line cut. She swallowed and shook her head. Why was she acting so jittery? This was bad luck, nothing sinister at all. Yet she couldn’t help control the stickiness of her hands or the fear in her pulse.

The chameleon man just stared at her as she put her phone in her pocket. She looked out the window, not wanting to meet his bloodshot eyes. Indeed the train did begin to speed up. They were moving farther and farther out of the city. The streetlights were growing fewer and farther between, and the skyline sparser. The wheels squeaked likes nails on slate as the brakes were applied. Kathy nearly rolled off her seat as the train ground to a halt. There was a whistle as the pressure on the brakes was released. They were stopped. The doors jerked open. Kathy didn’t know how they could have come to the Whitepine station already. The lights in the car flickered on and off. Then Kathy could feel the vibrations of the motor cut. The train engine was dead. The door shut and opened again.

“Welcome to Whitepine. Your train terminates here. Please exit,” was the audio-recorded message on the loudspeaker.

The hiding man shrugged into his worn old jacket and left the train. Kathy listened. She did not hear his footsteps off the metal-ridged floor, no rhythmic thuds of rubber soles on wood platform, nor gravel crunching beneath the man’s weight. No sound to suggest a living being was near at all. The stationary train held its pose. Kathy at last edged toward the open door and looked out. It was mostly dark, only the headlights of the train permeating the mystery of night. She could see no platform; it had been torn down. The shack of a train station was across three other tracks, also dark and under construction… and no chameleon man. Kathy swallowed hard, her breath coming fast. This was a nightmare, wasn’t it? People just didn’t disappear. She had imagined him. And trains didn’t just stop in the middle of nowhere. She just wanted to get out.

The cold winter wind blew in through the door, rustling through her hair, shaking the automatic doors. Kathy dared to peek out one last time, seeing nothing in the darkness but tracks, pebbles and construction debris.

The train jolted forward so quickly Kathy was caught by surprise and fell backward, her head knocking into the handle bar by the doors…

When Kathy next opened her eyes, she saw the horizon at a tilt, her head against the cold floor of the train, the non-slip ridges making a pink impression on her cheek. She slowly righted herself. The train was moving slowly now, but they weren’t in the station. They were entering the train yard. Old, rundown and retired cars rusted on the tracks. The train slithered into its spot amongst the others like an aluminum worm. Kathy couldn’t hear or see a conductor or driver but she assumed they were there. She straightened up and tried not to panic. She hit the big yellow emergency call button on the side of the train, to tell the conductor she was still aboard, but there was no answer, not even an alarm. She hit it repeatedly, scared, frustrated and panicking. She kicked the button a couple times, knowing it was useless but too desperate to admit defeat. She sank to her knees, alone in the dark. The train at last skidded to its resting place and shut down. The usually crowded and vigorous machine was dead and silent with a single switch.

Nick, Kathy said to herself, wiping a tear of exasperation off her cheek with her sleeve. It left a streak of black mascara on her purple shirt. I have to find Nick. He could be in more trouble than I am. He probably doesn’t even remember what happened. With that thought the starkest in mind, so strong it blotted out most of her fear and hopelessness, she calmed herself and stood up. There were at least twenty text messages from Nick on her phone. Where are you, Kathy? I don’t know where I am. They forgot about me… Never reached the station… Feels like I’m in a Hitchcock movie. I fell asleep, Kathy, but they forgot about me. Kathy, this train keeps rolling backward and I can’t find the conductor. Everybody’s gone. It gives me the creeps. Kathy, promise never to let me get drunk again. Kathy, won’t you pick up? Kathy, don’t leave me like she did. Kathy! I can’t see anything. Get me out of here!  

These messages only stirred Kathy into further action. She would find him and be strong for him, because that was what she always did. Even when their friends scowled at her for wiping the drool off Nick’s worthless, drunkard face, for being his crutch, she went on. Because a friend in trouble isn’t worth your trouble too, they’d say. No, because a friend in trouble now might just help her out of trouble someday… and oh how she wanted some help right now! Kathy tried to call Nick on the last trickles of juice left in her phone. He didn’t pick up nor was the call redirected to voicemail. It just kept ringing. Kathy shook her head. It was so quiet she thought she could hear the echoes of his ring tone, In the Jungle. It almost made her laugh, so classic, so silly. So Nick… Kathy got the crazy idea of following the music to find Nick. He had probably just passed out on the train, in such a heavy sleep he couldn’t hear his phone.

Kathy dug her fingernails into the rubber weather-stripping around the doors of the train car, managing just enough grip to wrench the doors apart. It was a big jump from the doors to the ground, but it wasn’t too bad. Her ankle smarted and protested as she landed on her toes. She had almost forgotten about it… Kathy hobbled unsteadily through the maze of cars, arms crossed protectively over her chest against the cold wind blowing through the cars like in a wind tunnel. As she reached a break in a line, Kathy almost spooked herself thinking the arrangement of the windows and doors on the end of a car looked like a screaming head. She followed the song like were a shining light, a beacon of happiness. She followed it onto the train in front of hers. She ran through the cars. She knew Nick had been there. It wasn’t until she saw the fingerprints on the dirty glass that she confirmed it. On one window she passed, a picture of a heart with ‘Nick and Annie forever’ written in it was scrawled in the film of grime.

Alfred Hitchcock indeed, she sighed. “The Lady Vanishes”… Nick vanished… but the lady came back and everyone was all right. A happy ending. Oh, please end like the movies! Let this end like the Wizard of Oz, home in a warm bed, all adventures naught but dreams. She had to keep her hopes up. He wasn’t far. He was here… somewhere. This was the last car on the train, though. Kathy didn’t know where else Nick could have gone. She opened the back emergency door by butting it in with her shoulder. She misjudged her strength and fell out of the car, landing sprawled on the tracks. She looked up at the sky, able to see it for the first time all night. It was growing lighter, blue, violet and gray. The setting moon was low in the sky, big and orange. Kathy winced at the grit in her scraped knees and palms. Now she had really done it; her sprained ankle was too twisted and too sore to budge. She’d have to crawl her way out of there. Once she was done inspecting her injuries, she noticed the music had stopped playing; Nick’s phone was no longer ringing. Right beneath her lay the plastic pieces of Nick’s phone. But where had he gone? Then she saw the gray hoodie caught beneath the train’s wheels, newly dyed red stripes now visible on it from the rising sun.

Kathy blanched, bile rising to her mouth, but as she turned away from the gore to the open track in front of her, the wide dust colored sky… she saw two, round, yellow headlights staring straight at her. The eyes on the screaming head come to life… those deranged evil eyes. And they were getting bigger and bigger, hurling closer and closer. And she heard another sound too beneath the rocking of the train, getting louder and louder as the shadow engulfed her.

“Welcome to Whitepine. Your train terminates here. Please Exit.”