"If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart?"
- Alexander Solzhenitsyn
She was suddenly awake.
The trunk was being dragged, albeit very slowly. Inching its way across a carpeted surface. Her practiced senses told her it was about mid-day. Moving her trunk was dangerous as it would likely raise suspicion in the other passengers and train staff.
"Owen?" Abby whispered as loud as she dared. Generally, movement this slight wouldn't rouse her from slumber. It was his fear coming off of him in waves. Owen's dread was like an alarm in her head that would not stop.
No answer. Just the sound of his muffled grunts as he struggled with his burden. She placed her palm flat on the inside of the trunk lid. He was near panic. She sensed his need to . . . run. But, something else was there. Something solid. Unwavering. His fear raged against it like the sea against a break.
Concern.
A fierce yearning to protect.
Affection. For her.
She was momentarily stunned by the strength of his feelings. In the turmoil that was his emotions, those constants remained defiant and firm. Whatever had frightened him so, his feelings for her had made him hold strong.
She felt the end of the trunk he held slowly and gently lowered to the floor. Her acute hearing caught the sounds of turning gears and a slight creaking of hinges. Then, with effort, Owen began dragging the trunk again. It only traveled a few feet this time before it was tenderly set down. Abby carefully tested the trunk lid. It was still locked. The same mechanical sounds came to her. There was some mumbling and cursing as metal was forced on metal before she heard Owen fumbling with the trunk's lock.
The lid opened into a darkened room. Nylon webbing stretched from floor to ceiling behind which were stacked packages and luggage. Owen's face was flushed red and sweaty with exertion. As she stood, she could see his eyes were wild and his fear was almost palpable.
"Abby," he managed to croak as his arms embraced her in an awkward hug. His touch was like an electric charge running over her skin. Her arms pinned at her side, all she could do was lower her head on his frail shoulder.
Her hair stuck to his damp cheek as she tried to return the hug. "What's going on, Owen? Why are we in here?"
"Abby, a few minutes ago I saw a bunch of police cars pass by the train," he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. He was having trouble explaining. He was embarrassed. He let go of her and took a step back.
"Tell me," she said as she reached for his hand which shook from the adrenaline dump he had just experienced. His hand was slight and she could feel his thin bones through the skin. Her heart ached for him. It must have taken all of his minuscule strength to drag her trunk to what he perceived as the relative safety of the baggage car. If there was ever a doubt, it was in that moment she knew with pure certainty that she would be with Owen until the day she died. He gave her everything he was. Without hesitation and without judgement, they had only been together for a short time, yet he held nothing back.
"I don't know, Abby . . . I just got a bad feeling when I saw them." He looked at her sheepishly. "I'm afraid they're going to stop the train at the next crossing. I think they're looking for me."
She squeezed his hand gently and gave him a reassuring smile. "It's okay. Do you think anyone saw you?"
Owen unconsciously squeezed her hand back. "Naw, I sat way in the back of the train to be alone." He looked around the compartment as if to be sure. "I think we're good."
"Well, since you woke me up . . ."
"I'm sorry, Abby!" He quickly blurted out. "I just wanted you to be safe."
"Dearest," she said softly; almost in a whisper . . . a name she had heard her mother call her father so many years ago and which now seemed so appropriate. "I know. You're my knight."
He smiled at that.
"I was going to ask you what we should do next." Even in the darkness of the luggage car, she could see him blush.
"Hmm," he thought for a few seconds. She imagined him mentally checking off ideas until he came to a suitable plan of action and it made her smile. "Let's get you back in your trunk and tied down in here with all the other bags and I'll go back out and make sure nothing is going on, 'kay?"
As if on cue, the train began to slow down.
Owen's heart sank, "oh, no."
Abby stepped out of her trunk and squeezed Owen's hand tighter, "Owen, it's way too early for us to be in Gallup already." The familiar need to flee, to survive, to live began to gnaw at the base of her skull like a termite burrowing into the baseboards of a house. "I think you might be right about the police."
Even though she already knew the answer, she let go of his hand and gestured to his watch. "What time is it?"
Owen fumbled with the tiny buttons and was rewarded with a faint bluish glow from his watch. "It's nearly noon."
"According to the schedule, we should still be about 30 miles outside Gallup." Abby quickly looked around the baggage compartment as if she would find a solution to their current dilemma hidden among the boxes and suitcases. "Is there any chance we stopped someplace dark . . . like a forest or canyons?"
"I'm sorry, Abby." He studied his shoes too scared to look at her. "Its pretty flat and wide open here."
The train suddenly came to a full stop and almost sent them sprawling.
"Get in your trunk. Now!" He gently pushed her backward toward her trunk. "I'll hide you in here. Maybe they won't look any further if they have me."
Abby smiled sadly. "Owen, they must know you got on with a trunk." She spread her arms wide to encompass the whole car. "Mine is the only trunk in here. And there is nothing else big enough for me to hide in."
Owen looked around the car for the first time and noticed it was packed to bursting. Abby's trunk would stick out like a sore thumb sitting in the middle of the aisle.
"There's no room to hide my trunk anywhere in here." There was deep sadness in her voice and it scared Owen.
"It won't take them long to find me." She took a deep breath. "Owen, I don't want to hear the trunk lock open and know it's not you. I don't want to die like a trapped animal."
"Huh? Trapped animal? What do you mean?" He was confused and becoming more terrified with each passing second.
Abby didn't say a word. She just hugged herself and looked at Owen with tears in her eyes.
"Abby, what do you mean?"
"It's like when I'm not invited in . . . but much much worse." She studied his face closely. She wanted to remember everything about him. "You know the old legends? Sunlight, fire, death?"
Owen nodded fearfully.
"They are true, Owen . . ." There was nothing else to say.
Someone tested the door's mechanism and Owen seemed to enter a mild state of shock.
"Owen! Listen very carefully." Abby cupped his chin in her hands. Her fear forgotten.
He was terribly frightened and trembling so hard she could hear his teeth rattling against each other. "When they open the compartment door this entire car is going to be filled with flames!"
She kissed him lightly on the lips and he immediately stopped shaking. "I want you to stand as far from me as possible . . . OK?" Owen just stared at her. "Please, Owen, please." Huge tears began to trace tracks down her cheeks. "I need you to get as far to the back as you can."
He slowly shook his head as someone began to pound on the door with a closed fist.
"Please, Owen!" In her escalating panic, she grabbed his shoulders and shook him slightly harder than she meant to. She saw him wince in pain and immediately let go. "Please. If you go to one of the corners in the back and cover yourself with some of the larger pieces of luggage you might be alright."
Mixed now with muffled shouting, the banging on the compartment door became louder. It sounded like they were using something metal to batter the door down.
"Better yet," she grabbed the handle of her beloved trunk and started to drag it to the opposite end of the car. "Get in here and I'll lock you in! Maybe if I cover it with suitcases and things you might be ok."
Owen didn't say a word. He simply grabbed her wrist and stopped her efforts. When their eyes met again, he shook his head.
No.
"Owen, I won't be the cause of any more pain in your life," the timbre of her voice changed and her vision became slightly cloudy and crimson around the edges. "I will never let anything hurt you."
Owen dropped her hand as if he suddenly realized he was holding on to a snake. His eyes wide, he backed up a step.
Surprised. Abby shook her head slightly as if to clear her thoughts. She took a deep breath.
Defeated.
Abby looked down at her bare feet and whispered, "I don't want anything to happen to you when I . . . when I . . ." She started to sob. She had been happy. So very happy. They were going to leave and have a life. They were going to be together . . . forever. She slowly slid into a kneeling position at his feet. Her face in her hands.
Delicate hands cupped her face. She looked up and into the deepest blue eyes she ever imagined. Owen was smiling at her and she couldn't help smiling back through her tears. Continuing to cup her chin, he knelt down in front of her. Never breaking eye contact he whispered, "I want to show you something." He leaned in close and gently kissed her lips.
His kiss tasted of apple candy mixed with mint toothpaste. Abby thought she had never known anything so delicious in her long life. He pulled back slightly, "Abby, be me a little . . . just for a little while . . . be me . . ." He spoke those words with earnest reverence; like a prayer. His lips brushed over her's again as he placed the palm of her hand against his cheek.
Abby closed her eyes and the pounding faded into the background . . .
She lay on her back as a cool breeze brushed across her face. Abby began to panic at the long forgotten touch of a gentle wind. She struggled to rise, but something held her firmly in place.
"Owen?" Suddenly, she became aware of fingers intertwined with hers.
"I'm here beside you, Abby." He gently squeezed her hand. "Open your eyes."
She opened her eyes and saw thousands of diamonds sparkling in a black velvet tapestry. She lay in a grassy field looking up at the night sky. The breeze again blew across her exposed skin raising goose bumps. She turned her face slightly and was rewarded with those same amazing blue eyes.
Grass blades tickled her cheek as she giggled. "How did you . . . ?"
Owen brought his free index finger to her lips in a tender hushing manner. "Look over there," pointing somewhere behind her.
She was suddenly afraid and didn't know why. "No. I'm . . . I'm scared."
"Do you trust me?" Though it was a dark and moonless night, she could see him clearly. He smiled and the look in his eyes spoke of a home where she was safe and loved. She would never have to run ever again. She would never be alone as long as he was by her side.
She nodded and turned to look.
The grassy field stretched on for miles slowly turning into gently rolling hills that rose ever steeper to craggy mountains. At the summit, she could see streaks of golden reds and ever strengthening blues wrestling with the ebon sky; slowly pushing it back. Brilliant Sol bringing fire to the night.
Abby bolted to her feet turning this way and that; searching . . .
"Owen! I need my trunk." She spun is a tight circle. Wild eyes searching the landscape. "I have to find someplace to hide!"
Owen slowly rose to his feet.
She was nearly crippled with fright. She thought, if I fly fast, maybe I can find someplace before daybreak. Her instincts, sharpened by more than 200 years of practice, screamed for her to run as far and as fast as she could. What about Owen?
Leave him!
The thought came unbidden. The other her pounded on the inside of her skull urging her to flee into the night.
Burrow into a hillside, now!
"Owen, I have to go! Stay near this place and I'll find you when it gets dark." Her muscles bunched in preparation for flight, when she felt a gentle hand take a hold of her own.
"No, Abby. Stay."
"Owen, I can't!" She looked into his eyes and stopped. His soul was bared there before her in the depths of his eyes. He truly believed she would be safe. "You don't understand. I'll die."
"Not if we are together, Abby." Surprisingly strong arms encircled her waist and hugged her tightly.
They stood together. One defiantly facing the ever strengthening light daring it to harm his love; one longing for the cool shadows of deep darkness.
Her eyes wide; Abby could see the tops of the trees bathed in golden light as the sun rose higher over the summit of the mountains.
The fear gnawed at her insides. She hugged Owen fiercely. Unable to control herself, he somehow remained standing in her powerful embrace. The other her raged in her chest. Primal animal fear radiated throughout her entire being. It wanted to live!
Dig your fingers into his spine!
Kill him!
Run!
The golden light crept down the boughs of the pines. She ignored It and tightened her grip on Owen's frail body. Squeezing her eyes shut she whispered his name.
"Owen . . ."
"Owen . . . Owen." His name repeated over and over again. A mantra, a prayer against all she feared.
She felt a strange sensation on the back of her head and squeezed her eyes shut even tighter. She knew her centuries long flight from the sun had come to an end.
She felt her hair burst into flame.
Her skin began to bubble and peel away from raw muscle and exposed bone. Her eyeballs melted in their sockets and oozed down her cheeks.
Abby screamed and screamed as the fire that consumed her snaked its way down her throat and burst her lungs.
He lied, It howled as she lost consciousness.
Unfamiliar sensations assailed her. Warmth. Natural light.
Abby was afraid to open her eyes. The horrible visage of Thomas still haunted her and she was sure she now resembled her erstwhile protector.
She realized she held a body in her arms as she was held in his. Owen.
She carefully ran her tongue over her lips and found they weren't cracked or blistered. She slowly opened her eyes and the early morning sunlight stung them.
"That was kinda rough." Owen laughed.
After so long out of the sun, Abby had a hard time focusing on Owen's face. "How did you do . . . "
"Shh." Again, he put his index finger to her lips. However, this time, she kissed it.
Owen let go of her and propped himself up on an elbow. "Abby, this is how I see you. A smart, pretty girl," His eyes blazed with fierce conviction as he emphasized the last words. "My girl."
Owen stood and helped her to her feet. "Abby, you are everything to me . . ."
"As you are to me, dearest." She stood on tip toes and kissed his cheek.
"But," she was afraid to put words to it. Afraid that by giving her confusion voice she would destroy it. "How am I here? Like this?"
He simply smiled. "I just know that as long as we are together we will be fine."
"I think there's a lake on the other side of this pasture." He gestured toward the far side of the field. "Wanna go swimming?"
"Sure, but, Owen . . ." She had a look of distress and embarrassment on her face. "The rocks are hurting my feet."
He laughed as he turned his back to her. "Hop on."
"Owen?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you have any Now and Laters?"
"I thought you'd never ask." He dug into his jeans with his left hand; careful not to let Abby drop off his back. He fished out a yellow wrapper and handed it to her. "A banana one! I bet you've never even tasted a banana; have you?"
"No. I haven't." Abby unwrapped the yellow candy and popped it into her mouth. "I like it," she smiled. Abby hugged Owen fiercely as she enjoyed the feeling of the sun's warm rays on her skin.
EPILOGUE
"Sir? How are you feeling?" The words hurt his ears. "How's your breathing?"
In response, he took in a lung-full of oxygen and pulled the mask from around his mouth and nose. "It still kinda hurts."
"It will for a few days, but you should be ok." The paramedic looked into his eyes. "Your eyes look good. You shouldn't have any problems from the knock the cops gave you." A strong callused hand gently held his wrist.
"Your pulse is good, too." The paramedic smiled and started to fold up the plastic tubing connected to the metal tank. "Why the hell did the cops crack you on the head?"
"Man, there were two kids in there!"
"What the fuck? They didn't tell us that." The paramedic grabbed the walkie-talkie from his belt. "Karl!"
Slight static, then a terse reply. "Yeah."
"Tell the Chief the conductor guy says there were two kids in the baggage car."
More static. "Are you sure?"
The paramedic looked at him and raised a questioning eyebrow.
All he could do was nod back in reply.
"That's affirmative."
The paramedic knelt in front of him and examined the conductor's blistered palms. "Why'd they knock you out?"
He took a painful breath. "The cops stopped the train at the crossing and started searching the passenger compartments." His voice broke for a second before he went on. "They said they were looking for a little boy who might be on the train . . . something about a murder in Los Alamos."
His voice began to shake, "we got to the luggage car and the door was jammed shut. Something stuffed in the mechanism from the inside; the rear door was the same."
He motioned for the mask. The paramedic unfolded his work and gave it back to him. He took a couple of deep breaths and continued. "The cops kinda went nuts. They started banging on the doors and yelling about the death penalty for killing a cop. I don't know what the fuck they were going on about . . . one of 'em showed up with a pry-bar ."
His breathing became fast and labored.
"Whoa, take its easy." The paramedic took the elastic band connected to the mask and slipped it over the conductor's head. "Deep easy breaths."
He closed his eyes and willed his breathing to slow. "They just kept banging on the door." I couldn't understand why they were so worked up over a kid."
His words were slightly muffled by the mask, but the paramedic could understand him as he bandaged the conductor's hands.
"I talked to him you know."
The paramedic looked up questioning.
"The kid; the little boy." His eyes moist, he said, "he was real small all bundled up in a puffy silver jacket. I don't think he could've hurt a flea even if he wanted to."
"They finally broke in the main door . . ." The conductor's will broke and he started sobbing uncontrollably. "For just a second . . . there were these two little kids kneeling in the middle of the floor . . . the boy and a girl. Oh, God . . . they couldn't have been more than eleven or twelve!"
He pulled his half-bandaged hands away from the paramedic and pulled on the mask so hard the elastic broke. He was close to hysteria. "They were kneeling there. They looked so peaceful. They were just holding each other; they were kissing."
He took a shuddering breath, "And then . . . and then the place was an inferno!"
He tried to rise to his feet but the paramedic placed firm but gentle hands on his shoulders and he sat back down. Through his sobs, "I tried to get in there! I couldn't let them die like that!" His eyes were blood shot and red rimmed, "I got a couple of little ones, too."
He hugged his knees close to his body and trembled. "I guess they hit me with something cuz all I remember next was sitting here."
The crunching of cinders alerted the paramedic to the approach of his partner.
"How's he doing?"
He looked into the conductor's eyes with sympathy. "He'll be fine."
The paramedic spoke without turning as he did his best to affix the broken mask to his patient's face. "He swears there were kids in the car."
"Yeah, well something's up," Karl stated with a little bitterness. "The cops are being all stone faced about the whole thing. The FD boys are sifting through the ashes but they haven't found any remains. No bones, no teeth, no nada."
The paramedic turned to him with a quizzical look. "Do they know how is started?"
Karl shook his head. "Nope. I've seen some bad burns . . .but, dude . . .there's nothing left of the car. It's just a metal frame and wheels."
He shook his head in disbelief. "It looks like someone doused the whole thing with a few hundred gallons of gas."
"Funny thing is . . . this is all they could find." He held up something blackened in his right hand. "FD told me it was sitting there in the middle of all that ash."
He tossed him something covered in soot about the size of a baseball. When he looked closer, he noticed some of the colored square stickers had come off in the heat of the fire but otherwise it was an undamaged Rubick's Cube.