Ashlyn's Radio by Norah Wilson, Heather Doherty Page B

the ticket high and claimed the night. Death itself was in that voice, yet somehow even Ashlyn could feel the seductive, luring pull. Dear God, she couldn’t help but feel the dark comfort. Fear the dark comfort.
    She wasn’t the only one.
    “Rachel, no!” Ashlyn shouted, but she was too late to stop the other girl. One end of Rachel’s scarf flew out behind her as she ran toward the train.
    Ashlyn and Caden both took off after her, running alongside the river then scrambling up the steep slope.
    “Rachel, stop!” Caden roared.
    The conductor extended his hand toward Rachel. He started humming. Comforting, soothing humming. And God in heaven, Ashlyn knew the tune! She’d known it since kindergarten. Heard it just the other night, coming from the radio in Maudette’s basement.
    “All aboard!” the conductor called once again, but this time they were so close, a whisper was all it took. Rachel’s hand extended. So did the conductor’s reach.
    So did Ashlyn’s. Locked in blind panic and fear, she reached for Rachel. Her hand closed around material. Oh, God — the scarf! It wasn’t much but it was enough to make Rachel stumble backwards just as the conductor grabbed for her. Caden launched into Rachel with a full body tackle, knocking her to the ground. Over Rachel’s protesting scream, he rolled them to the edge of the embankment and over.
    “Let me gooooo!” Rachel wailed. “That’s my ticket out!”
    “Not a chance,” Caden shouted back.
    Their exchange barely registered, for Ashlyn stood rooted to the spot, staring into the face of the ghost train conductor. In her hand she held one end of Rachel’s scarf, while the conductor held the other end. And oh, God, his face! It was little more than bare bone, crisscrossed by dried, gnarly sinew. He gripped the scarf with a gloved hand, but above his glove, below the sleeve hem of his neat conductor’s uniform, shone nothing but bone. And when she looked into his eyes — gleaming orbs sunk deep into their sockets — they were empty. Completely empty! And yet … completely  mesmerizing. Oh, how deeply into those eyes Ashlyn could go….
    His skeletal grin broke wider still as she stared into his eyes.
    “No!” Caden screamed. “He’s reeling you in! Ashlyn, for God’s sake, look at your hand!”
    “Take the ticket, little girl,” the conductor hissed at her. “All aboard the train.”
    Ashlyn looked down. Mere inches of material separated her hand from the conductor’s. Jesus! She dropped the scarf and flung herself backward, away from the train. Gravity did the rest. She rolled and tumbled down the slope toward the river, falling out of control. She was going straight into the water, if she didn’t hit a boulder or a tree and kill herself first. Then Caden’s arms were there, catching her. Arresting her fall, dragging her to her feet, wrapping protectively around her as though he’d never let her go.
    “Are you okay?” He loosened his grip enough to run his hands over her body, as though seeking reassurance that she was still intact.
    “I’m all right. I’m not injured,” she said, even though both elbows stung like a bitch and her left knee throbbed. All in all, she was damned lucky to be standing here, feeling these small hurts. She’d been so close…. A hard tremble shivered through her.
    He pulled her tight again. “Dammit, girl, you scared the hell out of me.”
    “Why?” Rachel’s voice was a broken sob. “Why didn’t you just let me go?”
    Ashlyn twisted in Caden’s arms, and he reluctantly released her. She turned to face Rachel, who was also trembling visibly. And dear God, her neck! Between the light of the moon and the eerie light from the windows of the train above them, the bruises on her friend’s throat were clearly visible.
    “Oh, Rachel….”
    The train’s whistle shrilled loudly, demanding their attention. The engine throttled up again, a belching, growling monster. With a screech of a laugh to the moon,