The Way Station

Christina O’Neal had no idea where she was. Maybe she was dreaming. The last thing she remembered was dancing at the club last night. She must have blacked out at some point, which scared the crap out of her, because she had no memory of what had happened the night before. Blackouts meant her mother was right, she was an alcoholic. She couldn’t stand the idea of her mother being right.

Sitting on a bench that was bolted to a sidewalk, she saw the sun setting towards the west, but the town seemed deserted. Streets were bare of cars and sidewalks clear of both humans and animals. She had no clue how she arrived at this place.

Rising from the bench she slowly turned a complete three-hundred-sixty degrees. The only thing she saw was a sign marking the building behind where she stood. The sign read “The Way Station”. She wasn’t sure what that meant or even what a Way Station was.

Walking to the corner she turned right and saw a set of train tracks on the east side of the Way Station. The tracks appeared to head both North and South, disappearing into the distance as they left the town in either direction.

What is this place? She thought. Better yet, where is it? Referring to it as a town seemed a little drastic, considering it was late afternoon and she hadn’t seen anyone. No one walked the sidewalks, crossed streets or stood on street corners catcalling young women in summer dresses. She was alone as far as she could tell and that wasn’t right.

Standing on the corner she felt exposed. Nothing moved, the air seemed stagnant, not even a stirring of leaves. She couldn’t identify any smells or tastes on the air. Something seemed wrong, but she couldn’t identify what it was.

Walking toward the tracks, she found steps leading up to a platform. Climbing the stairs, she looked down at the tracks saw weeds growing between the railroad ties, but the rails weren’t adorned in rust. It appeared the tracks were well used. By her estimation the temperature must have been in the upper seventies, but when she knelt down and felt the rail, it was warm to the touch, but not as hot as she would have expected. She didn’t think it could have been very hot here today. Of course if the tracks were in direct sunlight, they should be much warmer.

As night descended, Christina walked back towards the front of the building. Looking around she decided the train station wouldn’t be a bad place to get out of the coming night, so she opened the doors and went inside.

Inside, the foyer looked like any train station, except for a lack of people. No one moved behind the counters, nor inside the baggage area. Christina thought about searching the building, but weariness overtook her. Finding a bench, she stretched out and closed her eyes. She thought, maybe tomorrow I’ll go exploring.

When she awakened, sun shined in through the dirt fogged windows of the Way Station. Getting off the bench she stretched the kinks out of her body, then surveyed her surroundings. Right before she fully awakened she could have sworn she had heard voices surrounding her, but found no evidence of anyone now.

Walking around the lobby, she noticed there was no dust, indicating a fair amount of traffic, but the place was empty now. She wondered how this place survived with so little going on. Bored with exploring the station, she decided to expand her search to the town outside the station. Smoothing her clothes from the night of sleeping on the bench, she walked outside.

Bright sunlight made her squint as she left the darkened confines of the station. There was still no activity anywhere around the station. Pirouetting, she searched for some indication of life, but saw no movement.

Turning left, she walked to the corner and crossed the street. She stayed in the crosswalk even though she was sure there were neither cars to run her down, nor police to write her a citation.

Three blocks from the station she began feeling like someone was watching her. Stopping she searched the windows in the buildings but saw only reflections of the street. Continuing toward the next street, the feeling intensified, until she found herself wanting to return to the station.

Suppressing her fears, she moved on. Turning left, she thought she saw a shadow near one of the buildings move, then it was gone. The town was certainly small. She couldn’t figure out how she had gone from clubbing in Los Angeles, to walking around a deserted town in… Where? Kansas? Nebraska? It certainly seemed as if she had landed in a small farming town. She could see a grain silo in the distance and turning south she saw a water tank. Shouldn’t the name of the town be painted on that water tank?

Christina saw another shadow move along an alley splitting two buildings. She ran in that direction, but when she approached it vanished like smoke. Moving back up the sidewalk, she stopped and peered through one of the windows into the downstairs business. There was no sign hanging over the door, but it looked like an office supply store. Filing cabinets lined one wall and desks were lined front to front across the floor.

Turning away from the window, she felt a cold chill climb her spine. She was certain she had felt a hand on her back, then it was gone. She could hear music playing and was certain she heard people talking. Lots of people talking. Crossing the street, she saw more shadows moving, like groups of people walking along the sidewalks, but no one was there.

Walking back toward the train station, she moved fast, breaking into a run. Within minutes she had returned to the front doors of the station. Before opening the door, she turned again and saw a few shadows moving along the buildings across the street. Frightened and puzzled, she entered the building.

Sitting on one of the benches, she wondered about the shadows. There seemed no source for them, yet they were there. Why? Where the hell was she? That was the larger question.

Working her situation over in her head she realized she hadn’t had the urge to pee since she awoke in this nothing little place. Searching the station, she found a women’s restroom, but entering it, she was creeped out by what she saw. It looked unused. Entering one of the stalls, she unfastened her jeans, pulled them down, sat on the toilet. After a few minutes she realized she didn’t need to pee. She began to weep. What had happened to her?

Rising from the toilet, she flushed (automatically), then pulled up her pants and buttoned them. Looking around the bathroom, she noticed something peculiar. The walls were not adorned with any art, but more peculiar there were no mirrors. In fact, she realized she hadn’t seen her reflection in anything since arriving in this ungodly place. She thought back to when she looked in the shop windows and could remember seeing reflections of the street behind her, but could not remember seeing her own.

Leaving the women’s bathroom, she entered the men’s and found it too was lacking in reflective surfaces. Even the fixtures were painted white. Turning on her heels, she marched out of the restroom and sat on one of the benches in the lobby. She noticed for the first time she was missing her purse. A quick search of the lobby turned up nothing.

Christina heard noise, like buzzing all around her. Filtering in with the buzzing were voices that sounded like someone running a record in reverse. One of her boyfriends had been a DJ and once he had demonstrated scratching to her. This sounded similar, but more refined.

Searching for a source for the noise she found nothing, but it seemed to emanate from everywhere. After a few moments she thought the noise would drive her crazy if she didn’t get away from it, so she walked outside to the platform.

Outside the station, the noise was less audible than inside, but still there. Inside it was deafening, outside it seemed more the low hum of white noise. Christina noticed that the sun had moved along and was nearing the horizon. It shouldn’t be later than noon at this point, she thought. She knew she must be dreaming. If that was true, this was the most elaborate dream anyone had ever had.

Leaping off the platform, she landed next to the tracks. The urge to touch the tracks again, to feel their warmth under her touch was irresistible. Kneeling, she placed her right hand on the rail once again feeling steel beneath her fingers. This time she felt something else, vibrations surged through the metal into her fingers. A train was coming. She hoped it would be a way out of this place. She didn’t know how she would pay for the ticket, but she would do anything. Nothing could feel better than seeing this town fading behind her.

Returning to the station, she propped the door open so the noise was not so contained. The sound of voices and buzzing reverberated off the walls and seem to collect in the center of the room like water to a drain. After a minute or two, she could no longer stand the noise and returned to the platform to await the arrival of the train.

Christina heard the rumbling of a locomotive, long before she saw it. Sitting down on the bench just outside the doors she felt someone touch her shoulder, but when she turned no one was there. Shadows gathered near the bottom of the platform like travelers awaiting their conveyance to another land. She had to steel herself against screaming as she watched them roiling near the tracks.

Looking toward the North she saw shimmering in the fading sunlight. Staring at the flickering light was hard because it was at once bright as the sun, then dim making it almost impossible to see. It reminded her of sunlight on a moving pool of water.

Shimmering brightly once more, the front of a locomotive, silver and shiny, appeared out of the distance. Standing she couldn’t help but move towards the edge of the platform. The train seemed to appear out of the prairie afternoon as if through a hidden door. One moment nothing, then out of the air it was there, one car after another appearing out of nothingness like a mirage.

Christina watched as the approaching train slowed as it entered town. She could see it down the tracks as it passed the outer edges of town, past the most distant buildings, dominating the landscape, casting light that almost appeared to come from within the metal itself.

As it neared the station it slowed even more, the locomotive finally passing the platform, pulling the cars even to where she stood. Christina saw the shadows burst into a frenzy of movement near the tracks, reminding her of hungry dogs awaiting the delivery of their food.

Coming to a full stop, the cars reminded Christina of nothing she had ever seen. It certainly didn’t look like any passenger train she had ever seen, nor was it like the commuter trains near her home in LA. First, the windows were covered in gauzy film that made it virtually impossible to see inside. One thing she was certain of, the shadows were in a frenzy to get inside. It seemed like they were crawling over each other in an effort to breech the underside of the cars. None had ventured anywhere near the platform yet, giving Christina comfort.

Christina stood awaiting the doors to open for a few seconds, then she stepped from the platform onto the brass rung attached to the side of the car. As she stepped on to the lower rung, a blast of steam came from underneath and the shadow people scattered as if a rock had landed in their midst.

Christina pulled herself up the ladder and onto a landing. The door leading into the car was shut, but grabbing the handle, she gave a yank and the door slid open in its track. Inside the car, the sound of laughter and music filled the air.

Entering the car, she saw men and women sitting on cushioned seats, talking and laughing. Several of them had drinks in their hands and they all seemed oblivious to the horror that greeted Christina’s eyes. The man sitting nearest her had a bullet wound in his neck that seemed to speak silently when he moved his head. The woman approaching her from down the aisle had a face that was so swollen it appeared to Christina that she had hit something, or something had hit her very hard. Christina wanted to scream but nothing came out of her throat but a squeak.

“Why, hello dear,” someone said from behind her. Turning around Christina saw an elderly woman, dressed in a house dress. She smelled of ginger and lilacs. The woman placed a comforting hand on Christina’s shoulder.

“Hello,” Christina said. She was so shocked at finally seeing someone who looked normal she was stunned almost into silence. “What is this place?”

“Why, it’s a train, dear. Where do you think you are?”

“I don’t know. I have been alone for the past couple of days. I don’t know how I got here.”

Shrugging, the old woman pointed at two open seats towards the front of the carriage. Walking between the seats full of injured, bleeding, but laughing people, made Christina feel sick, but she moved forward. She hoped none of the people tried touching her, because she was certain she would go insane.

“Do you see all of these people?” Christina asked, as they sat in the seats. Christina felt the train lurch forward as they started to move.

“Of course, honey. Are you okay? You seem a little off,” the old woman said.

“I don’t know,” Christina said, then thought for a moment and smiled at the old woman. “You don’t happen to have a mirror on you do you?”

The old woman shot her an odd look then shook her head. “No mirrors around here sweetie. You really don’t need them. But if you catch the angle of light just right you can see your reflection in the window.”

Christina started to reach for the curtain covering the window, then hesitated. She wasn’t sure she wanted to see her reflection. After wrestling with the decision for a moment, she pulled the curtain back, but at first didn’t see anything. She turned back to the old woman and shrugged her shoulders.

“I told you dear,” the old woman said, but now her voice didn’t sound soothing, but more like a crone. “You have to catch the angle just right.”

Moving the curtain back again, Christina moved on her seat a little and caught something reflected in the window. Staring closer she saw something out of a horror movie. Her face was covered in blood, a divot creased one side of her head. One of her eyes had clouded over and was turned at an odd angle as if she were trying to look to her left. The hand that held the curtain had two fingers, her ring and pinky that twisted outward at an impossible angle. In her horror, Christina tried to look away, then she saw someone appear behind her.

Turning her head, she saw her best friend Kylie. She was missing an arm and her face was nothing but torn muscle and shattered bone.

“Why did you have to drive, Chris?” The broken bloodied thing that had once been her friend said to her. “You did this to me… To both of us.”

In an instant, her friend was gone again and the old woman sat next to her. Christina let the curtain fall back into place and closing her eyes, leaned her head against the wall behind her. The car jerked as the train left the station in its wake and began gaining speed.

“Now you know why there are no mirrors, dear.”

“Where is this train going?” Christina asked.

“Why that should be obvious honey,” the old woman said, looking around the train. The man with the bullet through his neck was had a piece of paper pinned to his chest.

CHILD MOLESTOR MEETS GRIZZLEY END Read the headline.

Looking down, Christina had a photograph attached to her skin with a pin. It was a photo of Kylie. with the word murderer printed across the photo in blood. Turning to the old woman, she saw the newspaper front page attached to her chest.

WOMAN HANGS SELF AFTER KILLING

FOURTEEN FOR SOCIAL SECURITY CHECKS

Christina screamed and screamed, but the train moved through the growing night towards a destination only it knew.


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