Understanding and Promises: Chapter 11
Disclaimer: I don't own anything
Authoresses Note:Here's my third chapter for the weekend. I just wanted to tell every Happy Canadian Thanksgiving and to remind everyone to watch the Shining Time Station episode Billy's Party, the Thanksgiving episode. To quote Schemer from the episode.
"Thanks... Thanks for giving."
Thank you Brian O'Connor for giving us such a colourful character. Enjoy everyone!
Schemee had slipped off early in the morning to go to Dillylick. The police search had turned up nothing at all and he was currently evidence-less until he found the tie again. Paul obviously didn't feel safe keeping it in his office and had moved it. Or thrown it out. Heck, it could've been anywhere. He needed something else, something better. So he figured that it would be worth a chance to go directly to the location. He shuddered at the thought of finding anything morbid but assumed that if no search team could locate anything, then neither could he. Besides, they were looking for something completely different than he was. He was looking for some sort of physical object that could serve as a clue. He got on a train at Shining Time and rode it straight to Dillylick. The docks weren't far from the station so he just walked on over. Before he got there he decided it was time to get ahold of Allcott.
"Hello?" Came Allcott's voice from over the phone.
"Hi, Uncle Allcott. It's me." He said.
"Jonathan! Where have you been? You've been avoiding me for days and everyone I talked kept saying that you weren't around and were busy. I'm not as mobile as I used to be so I can't go running off after you! At first I could handle allowing you your space but this whole situation is out of control now! You're under my watch right now so you better get back here and stop making me worry!" He said angrily.
Schemee sighed. "I'm really sorry that I made you worry. But I can't come back, not until I do something-"
"Do something? What can you do? Please stop putting yourself in danger, you're doing a disservice to your Uncle's memory!"
"I disagree. I want to see justice served!" He argued.
"So do I, oh believe me, so do I. But please, a fifteen year old cannot bring down a criminal. Your Uncle would be horrified at what you're doing!"
"Goodbye Uncle Allcott." Schemee said simply before hanging up the phone.
He could understand Allcott's anger, he had run off and left just a note. But still, he was already into it and wasn't planning on stopping. He made his way to the docks and took a deep breath before entering. Stacy had mentioned that Mr. King had said that there had been signs of a struggle near the Indian Valley Railroad storage unit. That seemed like a good place to start. He located it amongst the labyrinth of units and stood in front of it.
His breath furled in the air in front of him as he stood gazing at the spot. He tried desperately to not imagine what had happened here. He swallowed the lump in his throat and began scanning the area. It had been nearly cleaned up and Schemee wouldn't have been able to tell that a struggle had taken place here if he hadn't been told. He didn't know exactly what he was looking for but he knew he'd recognize it when he saw it. He spent a good hour searching up and down the boards and along the building. He finally took a break and leaned up against the building, folding his arms against his chest to keep warm. It was dead silent here and he lowered his head.
"I'm sorry Uncle." He whispered. A single tear slid down his nose and dripped onto the wooden board beneath him. He made to wipe it away when he heard something. It sounded like wind rustling through dry leaves... or a piece of paper? He perked his ears and listened hard. He could definitely hear a rustling coming from the boards in front of him. He saw a dirty piece of paper stuck beneath some of the boards.
"It's probably just garbage." He thought to himself as he reached his hand through the boards. Still, his heart pounded with hope. He pulled it out and tried to wipe the grime off. The note was still legible and he began to read it. Heart still pounding, his eyes went wide as he went through it. This was titled to his Uncle. This was...
His mouth fell open. He had been set up... And this was proof. He quickly pocketed the letter and dashed towards the station. He was going to get back and go to the police tomorrow. He was going to have Paul put away for good on the day that he was supposed to be made the new co-owner.
Schemer crept out of the house in the middle of the night. He was careful not to make any noise and slipped out the front door easily. He relocked it with the key located under the rock in the garden and set off. He had felt bad leaving without warning but he didn't want to impose any longer. He was going to find some way to make it up to Jasper and Mary.
Once he was six blocks away he located the nearest pay phone, outside a gas station. After finding the local cab number, he gave his location and waited. Though he and Jasper had decided that train travel wasn't a good idea, Schemer had a plan. The cab would take him to the next nearest train station, located a city over, which effectively brought him out of the Indian Valley Railroad's boundaries. He could safely buy a ticket from an automated booth and get on an early morning train. Something that would take him far away.
Headlights lit up the road and pulled into the parking lot where he was waiting. Schemer entered the cab, gave his destination and sat in silence as he began the journey to the rest of his life. He could honestly say that he felt nothing. There was no joy in this, no hope, no real plans. All he knew was that he was starting over. So, why did it feel like he was on a bridge to nowhere?
"Hey man, do you mind if I turn on the radio? I wanted to keep up with the news." The cab driver asked, breaking him from his thoughts.
Schemer told him that he didn't mind and the ride was once again in silence, save for the sound on the radio. He stared out the window, feeling like a coward. He did his best to push the feelings from his mind, but his effort was in vain. His friends and family were mourning his death and instead of ending they're pain, he was running away. He didn't feel like himself at all. He was scared. When he looked in the bathroom mirror that morning he couldn't even recognize himself. His complexion had an unhealthy pallor from his bout of illness and his eyes carried a haunted look. His normally dark and wavy hair seemed duller in colour and hung limply and lifelessly. And his curl... He had never bothered to try and curl it back up. He had searched his face for some amount of mirth or joy and found none. He felt like he couldn't bring himself to go back home. Somebody had tried to kill him. Though they failed, he felt like they had succeeded in changing who he was. They had successfully taken away all his defining qualities. Closing his eyes, he tried to get some sleep. Again, his efforts were in vain.
"-The search for the body of Shining Time resident, Horace Schemer, has commenced once more-" The staticky female voice on the news station said.
His eyes shot open. "What was that?" He asked aloud to no one in particular.
The cab driver turned it up so that his passenger could listen. Schemer lifted his body slightly as he took in the news carried by the radio.
"-originally called off due to an inconclusive initial search. However, several unnamed people have stepped forward with information on a potential suspect. Neither parties can be named but we can say with certainty that there is a connection between this case and the strike that's currently happening at Shining Time Station of the Indian Valley Railroad-"
Schemer's heart stopped in his chest. Someone, some people, were trying to make someone responsible for his death. He should have felt somewhat glad that people were trying to avenge him, and he could most likely guess who, but he just couldn't. Not that he was ever planning on going back, but now he knew that he could NEVER go back to his old life. This was like writing his fate in stone. He could never be Horace Schemer again because Horace Schemer was dead and gone and someone was most likely going to jail for killing him. He felt slightly light-headed. He felt like he could've fainted if the cab driver hadn't spoke up.
"It's a shame about that guy. A lot of evil people in this world today." He said with a shake of his head.
"Yeah... Tell me about it." Schemer said dryly. He might've made a joke about the irony if he weren't so depressed. "Actually, do you know anything about that strike they mentioned? I grew up in Shining Time."
"Yeah apparently it's undergoing new ownership or something. That guy used to work there and since he's gone missing some of the people who work at the Station have been striking. They're trying to put his killer in jail and they got a lot of the town to stand behind them. They've had some disagreements with the old owner as well. I'm not entirely sure what the whole story is. It's a big mess nonetheless." Though he didn't have much information to give, Schemer's mind was reeling.
People who work at the Station? That's only Stacy and Billy. They knew... Somehow they knew that Paul was the killer. And they were trying to pin the crime on him. He felt his heart clench. Didn't they know how dangerous Paul was? If they knew that Paul tried to kill him, and thought that he succeeded, then why were they making themselves targets? That also meant both left their jobs for him. They were risking everything, including their lives. Schemer suddenly felt ill. He hadn't realized how long that they had been driving for until the cab driver pulled up to the station. He thanked and paid him, and made his way inside, heading straight for the mens room. He still wasn't completely recovered, he really should have heeded Mary's advice, and was sick from a combination of nerves and stress. Once he made his way over to the sinks he splashed his face with water, trying to make himself feel better. He slowly looked up to his reflection, water dripping from his face and released a deep breath.
Minus facial recognition, he really couldn't recognize his own reflection. He didn't have to worry about anybody else recognizing him, from the news or otherwise, because he wouldn't be able to pick himself out as Horace Schemer in public. Even his clothes made him look completely different, the colourful suits that matched his personality so well were replaced with a plain white t-shirt, jeans and a dark jacket. He averted his eyes to avoid his 'new look' as he washed his hands. He heard a sound and gave a jump. It sounded like a train whistle, but it sounded like it was coming from this room. He turned around suddenly, looking back in forth. Having worked in a train station for years, he figured he knew what a close train whistle sounded like and it certainly never sounded like it was coming from inside any building. He turned back around slowly and was once again met with his reflection in the mirror. This time, however, he did recognize himself and promptly jumped back a foot.
His 'own' reflection stared back at him. Though it wasn't so much staring as it was frowning. And unless he was going crazy, he definitely was not wearing a green plaid suit. At least, he wasn't ten seconds ago. His reflection had his arms folded across his chest and his head cocked to one side. The curl was very much in place and his hair was well groomed once more.
"I must be losing it." He thought to himself.
"Where do you think you're going, Horace?" His reflection asked him, under a scrutinizing glare.
"Yup, definitely losing it." The real life Schemer said aloud. "So, when did reflections start talking? I missed the memo."
The mirror-Schemer gave an indignant sniff. "I'm not just a reflection. I am you. The REAL you. The one you've so gloriously buried beneath your self-pity." He explained.
"Self-pity? You're one to talk. If you're me then you'd know about the attack on my life that happened recently!" He retorted hotly.
"Yes, but you're alive aren't you? And you're a heck of a lot better off than everyone you hold dear if you don't get back to Shining Time." The mirror-Schemer explained.
Schemer narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?" He asked with a frown.
The mirror-Schemer raised his eyebrows in a worried way. "I think there's someone who can better explain this. Schemer, meet Mr. Conductor." He said while sweeping his arm forward. With a plume of gold dust, a twelve inch man appeared in front of Schemer, balancing precociously on the tap before jumping down to the counter with a bow.
Schemer looked dumbfounded. "Why is that doll bowing at me?" He asked.
Mirror-Schemer scoffed. "Will you just listen? We don't have much time, you can ponder the impossibilities of this later!" He said impatiently.
"You're reflection is right." Mr. Conductor said, Schemer noted that he had a very slight Irish accent over his American one. "I'm Mr. Conductor, well, one of them anyways. And I've been looking for you for awhile now."
"How did you find me?" Schemer asked.
"The magic helps. I'm thinking that once you woke up is when I came over here from Sodor, the magical world I'm from, and as you got stronger it was easier to find you. The previous Mr. Conductor, one of my cousins, passed away when the Station's magic died. It's started to come back, because of the work that your friends are doing for you and your own recovery." He explained.
"The Station's magic? But it sounds like it's a disaster over there?" Schemer questioned.
Mr. Conductor nodded gravely. "It is. And right now, you're the only one who has the power to stop it."
Schemer looked on incredulously. "But, me? I'm supposed to be dead right now. I can't just barge in and say I'm alive, I'd be putting myself and everyone else at too much risk." He said uneasily.
"I know, it would be far too risky to do that. Your friends and in great danger. Paul has a plan that's going to take care of anyone in his way. He's completely power hungry, and on the verge of winning whatever plan he's concocted. He's planning something, some sort of train crash. It sounds like he's going to use someone by the name of Twofeathers' train. He's got it out for the strikers and townspeople that have defied him." Mr. Conductor said hurriedly. "He's removed someone named King from the head of the railroad, and now he's in complete charge."
Schemer's heart dropped to his stomach. "But, why can't you tell any of the people on strike? They'd be a much better help than me." He said, feeling ill once more.
Mr. Conductor shook his head. "It's too late at this point. I haven't been around long enough to know who is who. I knew you existed because I can sort of feel the magic telling me. You're the only one who can help anybody."
Schemer gave a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts. "Everyone I care about is in danger... And I have no idea how to help them..." He said in a downcast way.
"Snap out of it! You are Schemer, not just some run of the mill guy!" He reflection snapped at him. "You're going to let this Paul guy trick you? He's definitely planning something, something horrible! He's already shown that he's fine with killing in order to get his way!" He said angrily.
Schemer looked up, feeling the hopelessness rising in his chest. "But, what can I do? I don't even know what he's planning. How can I possibly help anybody?" He asked, feeling both anxious and miserable.
His reflection gave him a sour look. "You disgust me." He said simply before disappearing completely.
Schemer looked down at Mr. Conductor, who looked up with a thoughtful look. "Both of us can only stay so long. I'll have to go back to Sodor soon. Depending on what happens, possibly for good." He said sadly.
Schemer looked back up, his regular and non-magically speaking reflection looking back at him. The downhearted look was worn all over his face. He suddenly felt a wave of disgust. His reflection was right. He frowned angrily at the mirror.
"What am I doing?" He said aloud. Suddenly feeling like his voice was his own again. "What am I doing?" He cried out angrily.
Mr. Conductor looked on, a small smile creeping on his face.
"Everyone is in danger of this madman! Why am I here looking like this? I have to go back... That's my other option, the only option that I should have taken!" He said, he felt like a fire had been rekindled inside of him. He rushed outside into the chilly early morning air. It was about one in the morning, he could be back at Shining Time by about six... If he only had a... Ah yes, there was that problem.
Mr. Conductor reappeared beside him. "I can't get a cab to take me back quickly enough." He said with a panicked voice.
Mr. Conductor looked contemplative for a moment. "I have a feeling I may be breaking some rule somewhere, but I don't care." He removed a whistle from his pocket and blew. A shower of gold dust rained down in front of the two and before Schemer's eyes a car appeared.
But not just any car.
It was his car, the very same make, model and year. The shiny black cadillac gleamed before him. His face broke out into a grin. The key was already in the ignition and he turned the engine over gleefully. The roar sent a feeling of hope through him. Mr. Conductor momentarily appeared on the dashboard.
"I've got to go now. All I can say is good luck, and I really hope that I will see you again under better circumstances." He said hopefully.
Schemer gave him a grin, his true Schemer grin. "Don't worry about it Mr. C, Schemer's on it." Mr. Conductor gave him a smile and threw a small amount of gold dust at Schemer before disappearing.
Schemer gave a cough as it settled. He viewed his rearview mirror and a familiar twist of hair caught his eye. He pulled the mirror closer to see that his curl was perfectly in place and his hair was back to it's normal form. Looking down, he found that his previous clothes had been replaced with one of his suits.
With a grin he put both hands on either side of his head. "Genius time." He said aloud.
In the early hours of the morning, Schemer made it back to Shining Time. He was thankful for the tinted windows in his car, he didn't want anybody recognizing him. He was going to stop at home first and change into a slightly more inconspicuous suit. Plaid was very much his style and would make him stick out like a sore thumb. He drove through town without gathering any notice and at long last found himself at his house. He pulled in and got out, Schemee was staying with Allcott so he assumed there was no reason to be cautious... That is, until he walked inside.
He looked around the front entrance and had a clear view of the living room. Chairs from the kitchen had been moved inside and with the couches they had been moved into a semi-circle. He frowned and moved closer. There were papers scattered over the coffee table. He picked one up.
"Gather town interest, set up strike location..." He read aloud. All papers were outlined in similar ways, they all had plans written down on them. His house had been used as some sort of planning headquarters. That definitely had to mean that Schemee was involved. He shook his head and moved quickly upstairs. He wanted to change and get out as soon as possible. He'd have to figure out a plan for revealing himself back to his friends, but stopping the train came first. He didn't quite have a plan for stopping the train but he'd have to think on his feet. He found the suit, a simpler black one, and rapidly changed. As he was about to exit his bedroom he heard the front door open.
He froze and pushed the bedroom door open slowly. He couldn't see down the stairs from that angle and exited his room silently and slid slowly along the wall until the front entrance was in sight from the top of the stairs. Billy was at the door and walked into the living room. Schemer could see him searching for a piece of paper amongst the pile. He moved forward but shifted his weight just slightly too far. He slipped and lost his balance, subsequently tumbling down the flight of stairs and crashing into a heap at the bottom.
"Who's there?" Billy quickly snapped. Schemer could hear his heavy footfall coming towards him and suddenly felt himself being picked up roughly by his shoulder. He bit back the pain, still feeling sore from previous injuries and from his fall down the stairs.
"Who do you think you are? This is private property!" Billy growled.
"Thanks Billy, I know." Schemer said sarcastically. He heard a gasp and felt Billy's hand release him. He didn't crash to the floor again but his knees buckled as his weight was placed back on them. Placing his arm on the wall in front of him, he used it to steady himself. His back was turned to Billy and he heard him take a step backwards.
"Schemer? No... It couldn't be... This is impossible." He said in a hoarse whisper.
Schemer turned to face him. "Not entirely."
Billy frowned and moved forward slowly, one arm outstretched. He grabbed Schemer's left arm and methodically checked for a pulse. Schemer just looked bemused. "Not a ghost, sorry to disappoint you." He said with a smirk.
Billy let the arm that he was holding drop and without warming pulled Schemer into a fierce hug.
"Hey, knock it off Billy, it's okay! I'm happy to see you too but I'm having trouble breathing!" He cried out, but he was equally happy to see his friend. In fact, his heart was soaring at the site of someone kind and familiar. It was the most hope he'd had in days. They finally broke apart and Billy wore a ecstatic expression on his face.
"It's not often I get attacked in my own house. What're you doing here anyways? What's been going on here since I've been gone?" He questioned.
Billy shook his head incredulously. "I must be losing it. Schemer, you're supposed to be-"
"Dead? Yeah, I didn't get the memo. I'm quite alive. Solid flesh and bone as you could probably tell from my crash at the bottom of the stairs." He said rolling his eyes.
"How on Earth? And what do you mean 'since you've been gone'? You make it sound like you've been taking a holiday. What the heck happened?" Billy asked with concern in his voice.
Schemer gave a humourless laugh. "It hasn't been a vacation, far from it. I've came back from near death, and I wasn't conscious until a day ago. Paul tried to kill me."
Billy nodded. "We know, he told us. We've spent the last week trying to convict him and pin your death to him. It's amazing you survived though. You look like you've been through the ringer."
Schemer self-consciously thought back to his unhealthy pallor, the dark circles under his eyes and the faded bruises on his face. "I know. It wasn't fun." He said simply.
Billy gave him a worried look. "Are you alright though? I mean, it's great that you're alive but you've been through something rough."
Schemer brushed his concern off. "I'm fine, don't worry about me. I heard from a... source that Paul's going to cause a train crash." He said hurriedly.
Billy's eyebrows flew up. "What, really? But how?" He asked worriedly.
"I don't know all the details but I do know he wants to frame you and Stacy somehow. Your personal engine was mentioned." Schemer relayed. "What are you and Stacy doing exactly today?"
"We were going to set up beside the train yard." Billy said thoughtfully. "It sounds like he wants to create another disaster!" Billy cursed aloud.
"What sort of crash though? I had also heard something about him wanting to take care of some people opposing him. And Paul's in complete control now? How did he manage to make that happen? That's about all I know." Schemer said.
"A collision. He has to be planning a collision. He's probably trying to take care of whomever else in the other train! Which will consist of townspeople and whomever he could get onboard. Which probably means Stacy, Schemee, and I." Billy exclaimed. "He's mental!"
"Oh yeah, that he is. I've come to stop him once and for all." Schemer said. "You in?"
Billy gave a small chuckle. "We've all been in since the beginning. You have Schemee to thank for that. He's completely loyal to you."
Schemer raised an eyebrow. "Schemee is behind all of this?" He asked.
"Well, errr, yeah." Billy admitted sheepishly.
Schemer closed his eyes slowly and breathed deeply. "I am going to have a stern word with that boy about personal safety once all this is over. Honestly, taking on a violent murderer..." He said while rubbing his forehead.
Billy gave a small smile. "I know it eats you up inside to think of him putting himself in danger like this, but he's doing because he cares so much. I think it's his way of coping."
"I know, and I'm glad I came back. This way I can stop him before it gets too dangerous." Schemer said worriedly.
"I'm glad you're back too. And everyone else will be too. Now, what should we do?" Billy asked.
"I'm going to go towards your engine, you're going to want to be as far from that one in case something goes wrong so that nothing can be pinned on you. Get Stacy and the others away from that area as well. I don't want anyone else seeing me yet and that way everyone can be safe. We just have to figure out what the other train is..." He trailed off.
"It has to be the ten o'clock express to Shining Time. Our train yard connects to the mainline and it's the one that will be carrying Mr. King. He'll probably be a target, and he's coming on it to help us protest with the townspeople that are behind us. The two sets of tracks intersect at one point just past the Station and if they timed it right and kept the express moving a minute longer, they could have a crash at just the right moment." Billy explained.
"So Paul will probably have his thugs manning the trains." Schemer said thoughtfully. "Okay, I'm going to the train yard to wait it out there. I'm going to try and stop it before anything happens."
"Leave the express to me. I'll think of someway to stop it. There's a point where the train has to slow down to make it around a curve before Shining Time. Even if their aim is to crash it, they're not going to want to crash it prematurely. I can find a way to get on board and slow it down and stop it. It's also too late to stop the ten o'clock express at this point. It's already on it's way and there's going to be Paul's guys on board already. I've got that train covered." Billy said.
Schemer nodded with a smile. "Okay, let's go save the day once and for all from this maniac!"
"Be careful Schemer, and good luck." Billy said, reciprocating the smile. He held out his hand and Schemer gratefully shook it, happy that he had his old friend beside him, and over the moon that he wasn't actually dead.
Schemee walked into Shining Time Station that morning. He had the paper in his pocket and was going to plant it in Paul's office. There was no way the cops would accept a note handed by him as there was no way to prove it was real. He had to plant it and let the cops find it. If he could get another investigation on Paul that is. He used his copy of the key to Paul's office to let himself in, first looking around to check if the coast was clear. The Station was dead because everyone was either at the strike or setting up for Paul's ceremony. The railroad was going to throw a ceremony for Paul becoming the new Head of the Indian Valley Railroad today, and the strikers and protesters had decided to have their demonstration today in response. The hall at Shining Time had already been pre-booked so his announcement of ownership was still taking place in town.
Paul himself had been spotted over at the hall by Dan and Becky and Schemee had rushed over to the station to plant the evidence while he still had time. He let himself into the office and put the letter in the cigar box, which no longer held the tie. He replaced it on the shelf and turned around quickly. Right into another person.
He rebounded onto the floor and looked up just in time to see Paul's outstretched hand grabbing him by the collar and lifting him off the ground.
"So," He said dangerously. "What do we have here?" He grinned evilly and pulled Schemee closer, who began to struggle.
"Hey boys, change of plan!" Paul called out and dragged Schemee by the collar out into the Station. Schemee continued to struggle in his grasp and saw that two large thugs were waiting for Paul.
"What's up boss?" The smaller of the two asked.
"We've got a delinquent here who thinks he was going to break into my office. To try and get me in trouble again, no doubt." He said and roughly shoved Schemee to the floor in front of him.
"What were you doing in my office, boy?" He hissed.
"You're a disgusting murderer!" Schemee spat back. He hissed in pain as Paul's boot connected with his calf and shin.
"Murderer?" Paul pretended to look thoughtful. "Oh that's right, you're pathetic Uncle. Yeah, I guess I am a murderer. What were you trying to do? See that I could finally be punished for what I did?" He made to kick Schemee once more but he swiftly dodged his foot.
"Grab him boys." Paul said simply. Two pairs of strong arms latched on Schemee's shoulders, preventing him from moving.
"He's going to take a little ride with you boys in Twofeathers' ride. Tie him up in the passenger car that we attached to the back. You ride in the front and he rides in the back." Paul explained.
"But boss... He's just a kid..." The other began to say but Paul angrily cut him off.
"A kid that could put all three of us in jail for life!" He howled. "But fine, if you're so worried about him I can make sure he at least gets a painless death." Paul produced a rag from his pocket and poured a liquid on it.
"Chloroform. He'll be knocked out." Paul said rolling his eyes. "Wimps."
He pressed the rag to Schemee's face who tried to move his mouth and nose away, holding his breath. Paul gave a growl and punched him in the stomach, forcing him to release his breath and subsequently intake.
As he felt his eyes get heavy Paul leaned forward. "You're going to die just like your coward Uncle. He begged us to spare his life, pathetic." He said maliciously.
"Liar." Schemee hissed just before he lost consciousness.
Paul grunted angrily. "Tie him up in the passenger car. You don't have much time if you want to do this right." Don't you dare fail me.
Schemer had hidden inside the passenger car attached to Billy's engine when he saw the thugs coming up. He noticed they had a third person with them that they seemed to be holding up. He couldn't make out who it was and inwardly cursed himself for not getting to the engine in time to sabotage it. He heard the door to the car open and he folded himself between a set of seats, out of sight. He could hear their conversation as they entered.
"It just doesn't seem right, you know?" One asked.
"Our job isn't exactly right, idiot. He's paying us to kill people for him. Are you going soft?"
"No, but he's just so young."
"Just tie him up, I'm going ahead to start up the engine. Paul's going to signal us from the station any minute now."
Schemer waited until they both exited the car before getting out of his hiding place. He stood up and could see someone tied to one of the frontmost seats, their head lolling on their chest. With a frown he walked forward, and with each step he took his frown changed into a worried expression. Familiarity sunk in when he reached the seat.
Schemee was completely unconscious and was restrained to the chair. "Hey, Schemee! Wake up!" He pleaded, worry etched all over his face. He gently pushed Schemee's shoulder and brushed his hair out of his face.
He quickly lifted his chin and checked for a pulse. Fortunately he could feel one and he could also tell that he was still breathing on his own. He let out a sigh of relief. His relief quickly vanished and was replaced by anger. That monster was going to kill his nephew! He nearly howled in rage at the thought but held back. He had a job to do and he was going to darn well do it. It was bad enough that Paul had tried to kill him, but now it was completely personal. No one was going to try and kill his adopted son and get away with it. He stood up but quickly lost his balance.
The train had started to move.