Chapter 7

Tommy, Lisa and Amy took a taxi to the train station, figuring that it was safer than walking, should one of Jackson's cronies come after them. Once inside they stopped, surveying the surprisingly large crowds of people.

"Okay, we're here." Amy said, her usual perkiness sounding rather forced. "Now what do we do?"

"For starters, we can see which trains have left in the past hour or so." Tommy suggested. "Then we can ask around, see if Sam talked to anyone or if anyone noticed her or Jackson. Hopefully we'll get a lead."

It was decided that Lisa would go talk to the woman at the information counter, since she had the people skills that might help her convince the woman to give her more information than she was supposed to. Amy and Tommy, meanwhile, would talk to the people who were sitting around waiting for their trains. All three of them were feeling a bit more positive now, with something solid to work on.

Amy and Tommy split up, each taking half of the station and talking to as many people as they could.

"I'm looking for a friend of mine…"

"She's about my age, traveling with a taller guy…"

"Her name is Sam..."

Fifteen minutes of questioning produced no results, and they were starting to lose hope. As Amy was talking to an elderly woman, her final attempt, she felt a light tap on her shoulder. Turning, she found herself facing a twenty-something guy with a pair of headphones around his neck.

"Hi, I'm John. I overheard you talking to people, and I think I saw your friend here earlier." He said. "Sam, right? About your height, with short brown hair?"

"Yeah, that's her!" Amy almost hugged him in her excitement. "Do you know where she was going?"

"She mentioned it, but it's slipped my mind." He sounded apologetic. "It wasn't anywhere nearby, I remember that much. I didn't get much of a chance to talk to her before her friend came over and said they had to go."

"Are you sure you can't remember where they were going?" Amy's eyes were pleading. "It's kind of important."

"It was somewhere out west." He offered. "I'm sorry, I can't remember more than that."

At this point, Lisa and Tommy joined up with Amy, neither looking very happy. John started drifting away, having nothing else to offer them.

"Five trains left in the past hour and a half, headed just about everywhere." Lisa reported.

"No one I talked to remembered seeing Sam or Jackson." Said Tommy.

"Lisa, how many of those trains were headed west?" Amy asked, suddenly perking up again. Lisa looked down at the slip of paper in her hand.

"Two. One going north and one south." She looked at Amy curiously. "Why do you ask?"

Before Amy could respond, John reappeared at her side.

"Seattle." He stated triumphantly. "All of a sudden I remembered. They were going to Seattle."

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There had been silence in the little compartment for the past twenty minutes, ever since Jackson had more or less thanked Sam for helping him mess with Lisa. Sam was now alternating between staring out the window and glaring daggers at Jackson, who seemed oblivious. With nothing else to occupy her attention, her thoughts cycled between worrying about Lisa and her friends, worrying about her own situation, and wondering what this mysterious job was that Jackson needed her for.

"So, who am I helping you kill in Seattle?" The words came unbidden from Sam's mouth, and she wondered if maybe her exhaustion was destroying her common sense.

Jackson looked up at her, a surprised but (thankfully) not angry expression on his face. He seemed to consider whether or not to answer for a moment before speaking.

"What makes you think this is about killing someone?"

"Isn't that what you do?" Sam couldn't keep the contempt from her voice, even though she knew she was on thin ice as it was. "You kill people, or at least you arrange for people to be killed, which is pretty much the same thing."

"My profession isn't quite as…limited as you have been led to believe." There was a trace of amusement in his voice, or maybe it was just her imagination.

"Oh do tell."

He raised an eyebrow at her blatant sarcasm, but let it pass.

"You don't need to know any of the specifics."

"There must be something I need to know about this, otherwise how will I know what to do?"

"I'll tell you." He answered with a smirk, enjoying the fact that she was growing more and more irritated with herself for being so curious.

"So tell me!" Sam gave up pretending that she didn't care.

"Later."

"Why not now?"

"Remember what they say about curiosity and the cat?" Jackson taunted.

"Well, then, it's a good thing I'm not a cat, isn't it?"

Jackson chuckled, which only made Sam more pissed off than before. She wanted to make him mad, but he had turned the tables on her. Just when she thought she knew how he would react to something, he suddenly found her funny.

"You're not going to tell me anything, are you?" She finally asked.

"Not about this." He shook his head. "Not yet, at least."

There was silence again, and Sam stifled a yawn. What time was it? It had to be midnight at least, probably later. Her excitement over her 21st birthday felt like it had occurred a lifetime ago.

"You need to sleep." Jackson stated. She considered arguing, but another yawn stopped her. They both stood and Jackson pulled down the upper bunk, which folded down from the wall of the compartment.

"I'd say goodnight," she commented, climbing up. "But I wouldn't really mean it."

"Touché." He replied, pulling down the seats to set up his own bed.

Sam lay on her back in the now dark compartment, wondering what the hell had just happened. One minute he was slamming her around and mocking her because she had helped him torment her sister, and the next…they were bantering? It wasn't necessarily friendly, mind you, but still…

I was actually enjoying myself for a moment there, how messed up is that?