I Know What You Did In the Dark ch 5
A few days before Sam finds Bucky's things….
Bucky
Outside the museum, I gulped fresh air and light. Flashes of the mural came at me like knives, the text about how good I was, once rattled inside my skull like marbles in a tin can. A few folks walked wide circles around me as I felt like retching in the bushes that edged the stairs.
In. Out. In. Out. IN. OUT, I repeated like a mantra. The training voice did not return. Deciding I was drawing far too much attention to myself, I quickly returned to my things and packed them away expertly. Standing to the daylight, I made the decision I needed to talk to Steve in person. Steve became my mission again, because I chose it. Abruptly, I cringed submissively as I expected a handler to jump out and chain me up again because they could read my mind. No one came.
Trying to breathe normally, I shook the thought off but was still a little uneasy. My next directive was how to get to Brooklyn, New York.
Blending in again, or trying to, was difficult. I was used to the cover of night but I gave it my best shot. No one seemed to be concerned as I moved to a city map located nearby. A few tourists were studying it in front of me and I waited for them to depart. Their accent caught my attention and I listened intently.
"So, whacha say'n is we need to go to Union Station for the Amtrak." the taller male tourist said with an "I heart NYC" shirt to a shorter woman with reddish hair. I stared at her hair longer than I anticipated. Red hair… so familiar.
Shaking my self mentally, I listened again.
"Yeah, on Massachusetts Ave." the woman replied with her nasal accent betraying her origins in New York, perhaps the Bronx.
The next memory hit me, ironically, like a train. Steve and I were walking home from school. He was trying to knock off my cap with one tiny hand and not spill his books from the other. His infectious laugh rang out above the busy bustle of the street, where businessmen went home from work and housewives got last minute shopping done before supper.
I smiled down at him, like he was a little elf, and ruffled his hair, "Knock it off you punk!"
"I bet… I bet …I could take you, Buck. I betcha!" he giggled, with the occasional asthmatic gasp and darted away from me into the street.
"Come off it, wingnut." I scolded trying to cross without being hit by a Model A.
Suddenly, a runaway car barreled down the half paved, half cobblestoned street and Steve froze in its path, a deer in headlights.
"Steve!" I yelled and tackled him, rolling us so his fragile bones wouldn't crush beneath me. My body absorbed the impact knocking the breath from my lungs, as the car whizzed by not even seeing if we were ok. Both of us lay on the ground for a moment, catching our breaths, staring up at the brick buildings and blue sky. Time seemed to be suspended for a second. The elevated train chugged noisily by by on its tracks, a shrill whistle announcing its approach to the station.
"That was close, Buck." Steve finally whispered trying not to sound scared when his wheezing calmed and people noticed us lying on the ground.
"Yeah. Don't do that again." I groaned and gasped feeling the bruises that would form tonight. A few ladies and gentlemen helped us up and collect our things.
The memory faded when the woman's voice cut into the daydream.
"That station is, like, 2 mile away. Let's get a taxi." The woman moped at the taller man. Her red hair caught the light as she stuffed her hands in her pockets.
"We won't have enough money for our tickets home. Let's walk." he replied with a grumpy tone. The woman pouted and they moved off the direction of the station.
I watched them go and then studied the map. Seeing where I needed to travel, I wasn't going to stroll. I had a mission.
The day was growing warm and I felt my scalp itching under the used cap. I dare not take it off because I knew there were enough cameras around here to identify me. Keeping my head down, I just tolerated the trickles of sweat. My mind began to formulate a plan to get on that train.
My training voice stayed quiet, but I did recall some information from those days when it came to the heightened security around airports and train stations. I approached the front of station and circled around back. Finding the tracks, I skirted them furtively, trying to look natural, yet inconspicuous. There was a bridge close to the station that arched over the railways leading into a parking garage. It had exactly what I needed: darkness.
Looking both ways to see if I was going to be noticed, I leapt over the railing, landed and rolled with ease. Not bothering to dust off, I walked into the cool shadows of the tunnel. Loud rumblings of diesel engines, the hiss of metal wheels on rails and the occasionally horn filled the space. My eyes stayed keen for any security or train employees as I moved up the rail.
Looking ahead, I saw my next costume change. A maintenance worker was inspecting the undercarriage of a car and making notes on a clipboard. Like a shadow, I was on him, knocking him unconscious before he knew I was there. The voice stayed silent, but I felt eyes on me. Looking up, I saw a young girl inside the train car. Her face was a mask of terror, having witnessed my assault. I raised my finger to my lips for her to stay quiet, but I knew that was a slim chance. She inhaled to yell. Cursing, I lifted the maintenance man over my shoulder and carried him away to a darker corner.
Stripping the worker quickly, I ditched my old clothes and left him to wake up on his own. A few tracks over, I could hear the police radios crackling and the chatter. Climbing up a service ladder to the platform, I briskly walked away as if nothing had happened. Entering the main hall, the light and architecture almost distracted me with the gorgeous arches and rosettes all over the ceiling. Looking at the departure board, hanging above the ticket windows there were several trains leaving for various destinations along the East coast. My train was leaving right now.
Leaping into a run, I searched for the track number not caring who I hit in the process. There were shouts of indignation and yells of anger, but I ran on. Quickly, I knew there were police on my trail as blue uniforms began to converge on my peripheral vision. "Stop!" was shouted at me more than once, but it was all a blur as I accelerated.
Leaping over discarded suitcases and luggage, I skidded to a halt and looked behind. More police were now following me and I noticed they had moved all the passengers away to secure the area. I was almost alone with no cover. There was a service door to my right. I leapt at the handle and the emergency alarm sounded. The police surged forward. Almost falling down the service stairs, I regained my balance to jump from landing to landing till I was back a track level.
Springing to the track, I noticed there was a dim switchboard sign that read "NYC". The last train car was pulling away, its oval shaped door with the rubber gasket giggling lightly as the train accelerated. Making a split decision, I made the decision that this was my train. It had to be.
I heard the command to stop. Reaching into the pocket of my borrowed pants, I pulled out my last smoke bomb. Pulling the trigger, I lobbed it gently toward them and turned to run. Once a ghost, always a ghost.
The train was further down the track than I had anticipated and was getting faster and faster. Lungs were burning with effort, legs pumping as fast as I could make them move, I began to catch up. Finally, with my last gasp of air, I made a massive leap. My bionic arm saved my life by grasping the latching chains of the stair rail. My legs were being dragged painfully across every railroad tie there was. Hauling myself up arm over arm I barely escaped being towed to death.
Finally, I sat there on the platform of the rear car, sucking air into my burning lungs. Having eaten only three bites of my hot dog at lunch, I felt light headed. The tail caboose light blinked red every fifth beat and became hypnotic. The early evening sun was resplendent on the Capitol building, fading behind me, in a wash of orange and yellow. A feeling I had not had in many years came to me and I was startled at first by it. I was at peace for a moment. The clickity clack of the train wheels, the occasional train whistle and the wind were my only companions for the next three hours.
I guess those cops thought I couldn't catch a train in motion.
They don't know when I set my mind to something, I get it. Every time.
A/N— School is gearing up again for us and so, I will have to be paying more attention to that than my writing. Patience for updates is appreciated.
8belles