Change the Locks

('Let Me In' fanfiction)

Owen's body jolted forward ever so slightly as the train pulled to a stop. 10:58pm. He took a taffy out of his pocket, unwrapping the brightly-coloured wrapper before popping the piece of candy in his mouth. His back molars pierced the candy and the familiar taste electrocuted his tongue, bringing a small smile to his face as he slid the flattened candy wrapper through the gap in his trunk, and knocked quietly in Morse code.

"One more stop," Owen's knuckles rolled across the trunk's lid with every knock. "Nearly there." There was silence for a minute or so, until Owen heard an assertive thump from inside the trunk, it sounded as if whatever was inside had hit the lid with the side of the hand, clenched in a fist. The candy wrapper slid out of the gap in the trunk, and Owen quickly pinched it before it fell to the floor. He clumsily flipped the wrapper to see the blank side, crumpling it in the process. He didn't care; he was looking for the message.

"How long will it be? I like puzzles; but a Rubik's cube won't entertain me forever, Owen. I want to see you.

Abby."

Owen expired, his breathing unsteady. He looked around subtly, checking

that no one in his carriage could see him. Safe. He kneeled, slowly and carefully, and parted his lips when his face neared the gap in the trunk.

"We're about an hour and a half away from Denver." Owen whispered, squinting through the gap. He saw her eyes smile through the gap; he couldn't help but smile back, he didn't even need to try.

"Are we in Colorado?" she whispered, her throat croaky. He let out a quiet laugh and nodded, still grinning.

"I'm going to sleep now, it's late. Get some sleep too, yeah?" Owen advised, still squinting through the gap in the trunk.

"No!" Abby shouted with an accompanying thump, making Owen jump before shushing her. He looked around, hoping no one heard the sound of the young girl coming from his luggage. He turned to look into the trunk again, but all he could see was Abby's golden eyes wide with a mixture of emotions; hurt, shock, disappointment and worry.

"You need to be quiet, Abby." He whispered, sternly. She lowered her head, so he could see her blonde hair parting.

"Sorry. But, don't leave me. Please?" Her voice was full of desperation despite being quiet, and he couldn't back away from her now. Not after all she'd been through. He sighed quietly, his eyes flitting between her eyes and the carriage door.

"Ok."

She grinned – or at least her eyes grinned. Her eyes were all you could see through the gap in the trunk.

Like he'd promised, Owen began dragging the trunk off of the train about an hour and a half after his and Abby's previous conversation and his sneaker brushed the platform at Union Station in Denver, Colorado. His eyes skimmed the empty station and he took a deep breath of cold air before letting out a stream of steam from his nostrils. There was something eerie about the platform.

Owen shuddered and immediately began heaving the heavy trunk towards the exit; the after-school strength classes he'd done back in Los Alamos were seriously paying off now, but not in the way he'd expected.

"Nearly there." He told himself as he dragged the trunk behind him, only metres from the exit. With every heave he made, he got closer to the exit. Suddenly he felt the toe of his sneaker slam into a paving stone, and he fell forward with his eyes closed as he let out a quiet gasp. He continued to fall to the pavement, but instead of feeling the cold hard concrete, he felt a warm soft material breaking his fall. Owen's eyes flashed open, and he looked up to see a tall figure helping him to his feet again. He couldn't quite see the figure's face, but he assumed it was male due to the stench of cologne that lingered in a visible cloud.

"You okay there, son?" a voice came from the figure. Oh, a policeman. Owen nodded.

"I'm just on my way out, sir. Thank you for helping me up, by the way." He smiled politely before continuing to make his way to the exit. Again, he felt the soft material against him. The policeman was blocking his way.

"Not so fast, kid. Where you off to? It's pretty late, not exactly a great environment for a young man like you, is it now?" His moustache bristled as he spoke. Owen stuttered, thinking of a witty response.

"I'm getting a cab to my dad's apartment," he lied. "I better run, it'll probably be outside by now." His ears were hot with panic.

"Just checked. Nothing there. How old are you?" The words made Abby sit up in the trunk, her eyes wide with tension and her ears pricked with inquisitiveness. Owen opened his mouth, but no words could escape his lips. He cleared his throat.

"I'm," he stuttered. "I'm fifteen. I just look very young for my age. You should see how difficult it is to get into the movie theatre, I can barely get into PG-13s!" He chuckled, pushing past the cop.

As Owen continued dragging the trunk, the policeman watched; his eyes narrow. He stared as Owen finally reached the exit. That cop wasn't going to do anything. He wasn't going to stop him. Lucky, really.