One more notch—
Boom! It was open.
Just as I saw the face of the man coming back into the kitchen. His eyes grew wide as I pushed the stool over and went for the back door. I pushed it open and I was outside in the cold air, running toward the trees, the man yelling behind me.
I saw the last dead man to complete the foursome, Heckle or Jeckle, this one lying on his back at the edge of the garden, his lifeless eyes staring right up at me as I jumped over him. The voice still yelling at me to stop. I ran into the woods, the branches whipping at my face. Running as hard as I could, past the point of suffering, until I could not breathe anymore. Not looking back until I was sure I was alone.
I kept going through the woods until the sun went down. Moving as fast as I could, looking over my shoulder every few seconds. I found a stream and washed the blood from my face and hands, the water so cold it made my skin ache. My jacket was still splattered with the inside of Bigmouth’s skull, and I couldn’t get it anywhere near clean. So I had to take it off, even though it was already not warm enough. Not for being outside in the woods for this long.
I stumbled around and hid behind trees as I heard sirens in the distance. I imagined a team of men coming after me, beating their way through the underbrush, led by a pack of baying bloodhounds.
In the end I came upon a train station. There were several taxicabs waiting out front, the drivers standing together in a pack and smoking. I circled around and came up on the station from the track side. There were no trains in sight, but I was hoping that I’d have one more shot to catch one back to New York City.
I tried the door to the waiting room, but it was locked. The sign told me that the lobby hours were over at nine, and that if I didn’t have a ticket already, I could buy one on the train. I looked in at the clock, saw that it wasalmost ten. I didn’t know when the next train would be coming. A cold wind hit me and I started to shake.
I looked over at the cabdrivers. There was no way I could approach them. A seventeen-year-old kid with no coat, his hair still wet. The police no doubt looking for me, with a decent description from my brief custody. Even the train would be a risk, but what choice did I have?
I sat down with my back against the cold brick wall, waiting to hear the rumble of the train. I sat there and shivered, feeling hungry now on top of everything else. I must have dozed off somehow, because the next thing I remember was being jarred awake by the train releasing its air brakes. The train was right there in front of me, huge and humming. I got up slowly, feeling as stiff as a ninety-year-old man. The doors opened and people started getting off. Well-dressed men mostly, a few women, all of them making the late trip back home from the city. Now they were ready for a good meal with their families. I stayed on the edge of the scene like a stray dog.
Then I realized that this train had come east from the city and would keep going east, deeper into Connecticut. Maybe I should get on anyway, I thought. Get the hell out of here.
No, I thought. I don’t want to do that. I want to go back home, even if home is nothing more than a single room above a Chinese restaurant. It was all I had in the world just then, and I would have given everything I had to be back there.
Most of the passengers were getting into their cars now. Starting them, turning on the lights, driving away. A few passengers were taking taxis. I had two choices now. Either wait for a westbound train, or pretend I just got off this one. Try to blend in with the crowd here, get into a cab, and pay him to take me all the way to back the city.
I knew it was less than forty miles. Not that outrageous, especially if I showed the driver some money up front. I had a couple hundred dollars with me, some of the money Bigmouth had given me the night before. I took out five twenties and walked up behind
Boom! It was open.
Just as I saw the face of the man coming back into the kitchen. His eyes grew wide as I pushed the stool over and went for the back door. I pushed it open and I was outside in the cold air, running toward the trees, the man yelling behind me.
I saw the last dead man to complete the foursome, Heckle or Jeckle, this one lying on his back at the edge of the garden, his lifeless eyes staring right up at me as I jumped over him. The voice still yelling at me to stop. I ran into the woods, the branches whipping at my face. Running as hard as I could, past the point of suffering, until I could not breathe anymore. Not looking back until I was sure I was alone.
I kept going through the woods until the sun went down. Moving as fast as I could, looking over my shoulder every few seconds. I found a stream and washed the blood from my face and hands, the water so cold it made my skin ache. My jacket was still splattered with the inside of Bigmouth’s skull, and I couldn’t get it anywhere near clean. So I had to take it off, even though it was already not warm enough. Not for being outside in the woods for this long.
I stumbled around and hid behind trees as I heard sirens in the distance. I imagined a team of men coming after me, beating their way through the underbrush, led by a pack of baying bloodhounds.
In the end I came upon a train station. There were several taxicabs waiting out front, the drivers standing together in a pack and smoking. I circled around and came up on the station from the track side. There were no trains in sight, but I was hoping that I’d have one more shot to catch one back to New York City.
I tried the door to the waiting room, but it was locked. The sign told me that the lobby hours were over at nine, and that if I didn’t have a ticket already, I could buy one on the train. I looked in at the clock, saw that it wasalmost ten. I didn’t know when the next train would be coming. A cold wind hit me and I started to shake.
I looked over at the cabdrivers. There was no way I could approach them. A seventeen-year-old kid with no coat, his hair still wet. The police no doubt looking for me, with a decent description from my brief custody. Even the train would be a risk, but what choice did I have?
I sat down with my back against the cold brick wall, waiting to hear the rumble of the train. I sat there and shivered, feeling hungry now on top of everything else. I must have dozed off somehow, because the next thing I remember was being jarred awake by the train releasing its air brakes. The train was right there in front of me, huge and humming. I got up slowly, feeling as stiff as a ninety-year-old man. The doors opened and people started getting off. Well-dressed men mostly, a few women, all of them making the late trip back home from the city. Now they were ready for a good meal with their families. I stayed on the edge of the scene like a stray dog.
Then I realized that this train had come east from the city and would keep going east, deeper into Connecticut. Maybe I should get on anyway, I thought. Get the hell out of here.
No, I thought. I don’t want to do that. I want to go back home, even if home is nothing more than a single room above a Chinese restaurant. It was all I had in the world just then, and I would have given everything I had to be back there.
Most of the passengers were getting into their cars now. Starting them, turning on the lights, driving away. A few passengers were taking taxis. I had two choices now. Either wait for a westbound train, or pretend I just got off this one. Try to blend in with the crowd here, get into a cab, and pay him to take me all the way to back the city.
I knew it was less than forty miles. Not that outrageous, especially if I showed the driver some money up front. I had a couple hundred dollars with me, some of the money Bigmouth had given me the night before. I took out five twenties and walked up behind
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