The Runaway

“Owwww!” Lizzie grumbled as her head bounced off of the window frame. She rolled away from it as the room tilted in the other direction but fell out of the bed onto the floor. She rubbed her forehead as the room righted itself and continued to rock. “What the hell?”

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she took in her surroundings. The room was cramped, about the size of her master bathroom back home. The bed she’d fallen from was half the size of a twin mattress and wedged under a window covered with a blackout shade. The entire room was paneled in cheap, glossy wood and severely dated Victorian brocade fabrics. Even the light fixtures and handles looked like something out of an Agatha Christie novel. The décor was probably meant to invoke a bygone era of luxury, but to her, it was completely cheesy. The room tilted slightly again and rocked a bit harder. The long, plaintive wail of an air horn drifted in the distance and the clanging of signal baton came and went at high speed. She was on a train. How the hell did she end up on a train? She’d been in the car with her friends heading home from a high school reunion. They’d been celebrating together. And where were her friends? Where was her husband?

“Calm down, Lizzie. Think!” she told herself. “What do you remember?”

High school reunion in San Francisco. Driving back from the city with her friends, the die-hard members of the Deadbeats Society. Poor kids whose grades and talents were so epic they’d beaten the odds and been accepted to the most elite high school in the city on scholarships. Scorned and hated by the aristo-brats of Silicon Valley, they’d banded together in self-defense graduating with high honors. That bond endured through their college years and subsequent lives. They’d formed one of the most innovative and sought-after tech companies the bay area had seen since Microsoft. Most of their former tormentors had gone on to become alcoholics, social pariahs, and scandal-ridden embarrassments to their wealthy families and the Deadbeats had shown them as much compassion and mercy as they had received, basically, zip. More than a few family secrets had been laid bare and no doubt a couple of marriages were nuked in the process but they didn’t care. For the Deadbeats, their triumphant return was sweet revenge, and long overdue.

The ride home was just as sweet. Vanessa, Reggie, and Chris took up the back seat. Mitchell was laid out in the third row. All were drunk and singing their hearts out as if this was Carpool Karaoke and James Corden himself was driving. It wasn’t James Corden at the wheel but Brett. Poor tone-deaf Brett who couldn’t help adding his voice to the cacophony that enveloped the car. Despite the noise factor, Lizzie was ecstatic. She wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else, least of all in a cheesy train car in the middle of the night. So how had she ended up here? Here being a relative term since the train was speeding along at a fast pace.

She climbed back onto the bed and tried to pull up the blackout shades. They stuck fast. She couldn’t find a locking mechanism, but no matter how hard she tried they wouldn’t budge. She stumbled to the door to her cabin as the rocking took on a more violent rhythm. Where the hell were they heading? She half expected the door to be as locked tight as the shades but the handle turned easily. The hallway was deserted and just as cheesy-looking as the cabin. All the windows were covered in the same brocade curtains and blackout shades and all of them were shut tight. She could hear other people in their cabins, remarking on the scenery and enjoying their trip. Clearly, their windows functioned so why couldn’t she get them to work? As she made her way along the corridor, she knocked on a couple of doors for help but got no response. She was nearly to the end of the car when a man in uniform rounded the corner.

“Whoa there!” the conductor yelped holding up his hands as Lizzie ran into him. The man had dark skin and a kind face with sparkling eyes. His chubby, smiling grin sat atop broad shoulders and a barrel chest. His name tag read Calvin and he stood a full foot taller than Lizzie, but she didn’t feel threatened by him at all. On the contrary, she was overjoyed to see him. He patted her on the shoulders and smiled down at her. “No need to rush, young lady. We’ve got a ways to go yet.”

“Go where?” Lizzie demanded.

“To your destination, of course,” the conductor told her.

“And where exactly would that be?” she asked.

The conductor gave her a sly smile. “Woohoo, you must have been having a real good time tonight, hey?

“Look, Calvin, I really need your help. I have no idea how I got here or where I’m going,” she blurted out.

“Well, Miss, why don’t you just try looking at your ticket to refresh your memory.”

“I don’t have a ticket,” Lizzie told him. “I never bought any ticket for a train.” Lizzie started to panic. “I was just on my way home and woke up here!”

“Oh, I see,” the conductor told her. “Spontaneous arrival. That can be a little disorienting.”

“Spontaneous arrival? What the hell does that mean?” Lizzie asked.

Calvin smiled compassionately and sighed. “It means your trip was unplanned. Some people do board with tickets and a destination in mind, but most of our passengers just show up on impulse. It’s nothing to worry about, Miss. Why don’t you try lying down in your cabin for a while until you feel more grounded? It is comfortable, I trust?”

“Comfortable?” Lizzie blurted out. “Are you kidding me?”

The conductor’s friendly countenance went stoic. He straightened up to his full height and down at Lizzie. “I never kid about passenger comfort, Miss. It’s my job to make sure all of our passengers are well taken care of. The company doesn’t take kindly to complaints from unhappy passengers.”

Lizzie was beginning to wonder if she was losing her mind. Here she was begging him for help and all he was concerned about was that she didn’t lodge a complaint about the service with management. The man clearly did not understand her predicament. Either that or he was a few kernels short of a full nut.

“Listen to me very carefully Calvin,” she said leaning in and smiling slightly as he bent down to hear her. “I am not a passenger on this train. I did not buy a ticket to anywhere. I don’t know how I got here or even where I am going. What I do know is that someone put me here against my will and I need to call the police or whoever is in charge of security on this train because I think I’ve been abducted.”

The conductor looked at her seriously for a moment and then looked around to make sure they were alone. When he was sure no one was coming, he leaned back down and said “First of all, if you’re on this train, Miss, then you’re a passenger whether or not you bought a ticket. Second, your comfort is my main concern, and rest assured that I will do everything possible to make it a pleasant trip. Third, you may or may not have come aboard this train of your own free will, but you most certainly were not abducted, and you can be sure that you are exactly where you should be. As for where you’re going, that is entirely up to you, Miss. Only you can decide if, when, and where to get off.”

“I want to get off right now. I don’t care where we are!” she demanded.

Calvin looked at the row of windows with their blackout shades securely in place. “I’m afraid now isn’t the time to disembark, Miss. There’s really nowhere for you to go from here.”

Lizzie backed away from him slowly. She could feel her mind unraveling as she stumbled back down the hall to her cabin. “Help,” she whispered and she began pounding on the cabin doors. Her pleas for help grew louder as she clawed at the drapes. “Somebody help me!” she screamed as she dug her fingernails into the thick shades and beat at the windows. She kept screaming as she stumbled down the hall tossed from side to side by the banking motion of the train. As she reached the other end of the car, she seized. It felt as if something reached into her chest making her heart shudder. She could hear voices coming from far away yelling at her to stop, calm down, and take it easy, but they faded into oblivion as she fainted.

Distant voices. Faded images. The Suburban. The radio. Vanessa, Pam, and Reggie singing along to Mariah Carey as Chris did a ridiculous falsetto accompaniment. Laughter bubbling up in her chest. Brett’s beautiful face and goofy smile mocking the singers in the back. He knew he couldn’t sing but kept trying. That just made her love him even more. Best friends since childhood and married right out of college, the two of them had been together ever since. The reunion was over. The Deadbeats had arrived as outcasts and left triumphant over their mocking peers. Time to celebrate. Last week’s business merger had been an epic success and the Deadbeats Society was about to become Silicon Valley’s newest filthy-rich additions. The offer she and Brett had made on their new home had been accepted and would close just three weeks after the merger. The money meant that none of the Deadbeats would ever have to work again except to serve on the board of directors, and they could finally start that family they’d always wanted without sacrificing themselves to long hours and absentee parenting. Life didn’t get any more perfect than at this moment. She knew it as she gazed into Brett’s beautiful, green eyes.

Static. Screeching. Screaming. Glass breaking. A feeling of weightlessness. An unbearable noise so loud that her eardrums began to bleed. Brett? Brett?

Lizzie shot up from the cot clinging to the brocade curtains in a full sweat. The train was moving much more smoothly now. Its gentle rocking soothed her anxiety. Outside her cabin door, she could hear men talking quietly. She stood up unsteadily and reached for the door only to dart sideways into the compact toilet to vomit. She held the safety rail waiting for her nausea to pass then washed her face and gargled with a small bottle of mouth wash on the sink. She brushed her hair back with her hands and made her way to the door. It was unlocked and opened as easily as it had the first time. Clearly, they had no intentions of keeping her prisoner, but a prisoner was exactly what she was. Where could she possibly go on a train going nowhere that never seemed to stop?

Calvin the conductor was there with two other men in matching uniforms. The fourth man in a dark, gray suit with a blue tie and a carnation in the lapel stood listening as the conductor spoke. All four turned to stare at Lizzie when she opened the door.

“Are you alright, Miss?” Calvin asked her. “You gave us an awful fright. You’ve been out for a couple of hours now.”

Another two hours further away from her friends. The train could have traveled a hundred miles in that time. Lizzie could feel her options slipping further away with every rhythmic pulse of the tracks.

“Perhaps the young lady would feel a little more relaxed if we weren’t all hovering,” the man in the gray suit said. “My name is Mr. William Pettybone. I’m the engineer in charge of this train.” He reached out and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Calvin, would you and your assistants see to the accommodations while the young lady and I take a walk?”

“Of course, Sir,” Calvin responded leading his two companions into Lizzie’s cabin.

Pettybone gave her a gentle smile. “I imagine our conversation would be a bit more pleasant if I knew your name.”

“Elizabeth Mayfield,” she answered. “Lizzie.”

“Welcome, Lizzie to the Empyrean Express.” He swept his hand before him and urged her to follow alongside.

As they walked down the hallway, she looked at the windows she’d tried so desperately to get through. The torn curtains had been replaced by identical ones and the blackout shades were now open. She moved closer to the windows trying to see beyond the glass but all she saw was blackness. No stars appeared and the moon even she’d been staring at through the car window was gone. There was no sign of where she was or what direction the train was going.

“I can tell by your expression that you’re more than a little frightened, but I can assure you that you’re quite safe here,” Pettybone told her. “No one on this train will harm you in any way.”

“Then why won’t anyone tell me how I got here and where we’re going?” she cried.

“You’ll have to forgive Calvin’s evasiveness. He isn’t authorized to answer questions outside of his scope of duties. I, however, am fully authorized to answer any questions you might have. All I ask is that you join me in the lounge car so that we can sit and talk.”

“I don’t want to be here,” Lizzie said. “I want to go back to my friends.”

“That’s certainly understandable,” Pettybone said as they reached the end of the car. “I believe I can help you with that,” he said as he opened the door and walked her through the umbilical passage into the next car.

The lounge car was filled with people laughing and drinking in small booths and chairs while a small band played at the other end. The window curtains were open and no shades covered them but she still couldn’t see anything outside but darkness. What she saw when she looked up through the scenic glass ceiling, however, was astounding. The stars in the night sky were brilliant and a huge moon glowed like a pearl. Lizzie had seen such a sky only once on her honeymoon. She and Brett had visited the Keck observatory in Hawaii during their stay. Devoid of any artificial light, the night sky over the islands dazzled like a diamond mine and Lizzie remembered crying on his shoulder at the sight.

“People here tend to be very accepting of new arrivals so there's no need to be shy. Feel free to be friendly,” Pettybone offered as they walked up to the bar. “Marty, would you please give Miss Mayfield whatever she’d like to drink.”

“No thank you,” Lizzie said to the bartender. “My stomach isn’t handling the motion very well.”

Pettybone and Marty exchanged a knowing glance, and he set about mixing up a strange concoction. When he finished, he handed the steaming glass to Lizzie.

“This is guaranteed to settle your stomach, Miss. It’s my own recipe for motion sickness. Just sip it slowly and you’ll feel fine in no time at all.”

Lizzie didn’t want to drink it, fearing that it could be spiked with something, which was no doubt how she ended up here in the first place. But the pull of the aroma set her stomach grumbling. A subtle scent of nutmeg and cinnamon, the rich smell of dark coffee and heavy cream, and something spicy that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She carefully sipped the liquid. It oozed into her body coating her stomach in thick warmth and easing her motion sickness. By the time she got halfway down the glass, her dizziness and nausea were gone. Her strength was starting to return by the time she finished and with it her resolve to discover what the hell was going on in this train to nowhere.

“Feeling better, Miss?” Marty asked.

“Yes, actually,” Lizzie said. “Thank you.” Marty wandered off to tend to his other guests and Lizzie looked at Pettybone forcefully. “I believe you promised me answers.”

“I did indeed,” he said lifting a glass of whisky on the rocks. “Follow me” He led her to a booth as far from the band as possible and settled in. “What would you like to know?”

“Why am I here?” she demanded. “What do you people want from me? Is this some sort of kidnapping scheme to get money from my husband now that the merger has gone through?”

“No, Lizzie. We didn’t kidnap you. We want absolutely nothing from your husband and this has nothing to do with the merger.”

“Then how did I get here?” she asked him.

“You boarded the train at the Richmond Parkway crossing about three miles past the station.”

“I don’t remember boarding any train,” she told him. “And since when do trains stop anywhere except a train station?”

“I believe there was some sort of car trouble involved at the crossing. You and your friends were given passage as a courtesy.”

“My friends? You mean there here?” Lizzie yelled as she jumped up from the booth. She frantically scanned the room looking for them.

“Lizzie, if you’ll just calm down,” Pettybone told her but she was up and moving through the crowd before he could stop her.

“Reggie!’ Chris! Brett, where are you?” she called out as she pressed past the revelers. A laughing woman bumped her from behind and she spun around to see Pam standing there with a drink in her hand and a huge grin on her face.

“Hey Girl!” Pam cried and grabbed her in a hug. “We thought you’d never get here. I told Mitchell you’d show up but he kept saying no way, you were too stubborn to get on board. Hey Mitch!” she called out pointing to Lizzie. “You owe me fifty bucks!” Mitch waved back from across the room where he was dancing with a stranger.

“Pam, what happened? The last thing I remember was being in the car. Where are Brett and the others?”

“Oh they aren’t here,” Pam told her. “They missed the platform by a foot and couldn’t catch up. They’ll meet us up ahead somewhere though.”

“Up ahead where?” Lizzie asked. “Pam, where are we going?”

“Oh don’t worry about that,” Pam told her. “We’ll be there soon enough,” she said dancing back towards Mitchell. “Go get yourself and drink and join the party.”

Lizzie watched as Pam joined Mitchell and his anonymous dance partner. They seemed to be completely oblivious to her distress. The train lurched suddenly as it picked up speed. The rhythmic clapping of the tracks became urgent. A flash of lightning ripped the night sky lighting up the lounge car in an eerie blue glow. Everyone looked up and started cheering as if someone had just scored a touchdown in Levi’s Stadium. Lizzie felt her chest clench once again as the bolt faded away. This time, the shock knocked her to the floor. She lay there shuddering as Pettybone called for assistance. Marty the bartender flew from behind the counter and held her head in his lap. His voice sounded as if she were underwater.

“Come on, Miss,” it said. “You can do it. It’ll all be over soon.”

There were no dreams this time. Lizzie merely woke back in her cabin breathing slowly and feeling weaker than ever. She was cold and shivering even under the blanket. Beside her in a small cup holder was a glass of Marty’s steaming motion sickness tonic. Her friends were nowhere to be seen. Only the voice of Calvin giving Pettybone an update in the hallway told her she wasn’t alone. She rolled towards the window, closed her eyes, and silently cried. She needed Brett so badly. How could he have put her on a train and then missed joining her? What could possibly have happened at that road crossing that made a train stop for them? There were so many unanswered questions pummeling her mind that she couldn’t think clearly. All she wanted to do was go home.

At some point, she fell asleep although she had no idea for how long. What she did know was that the darkness outside the window was not quite as black as it had been. Had she slept until pre-dawn? Was morning coming? She peered through puffy eyes through the window. She could barely make out a large expanse of tall grasses blowing wildly as the train sped past. Distant mountains were visible as only dark shapes in the twilight. The moon had moved on and only the stars cast light upon them. The train banked right without slowing causing it to tilt precariously as it shot out onto a bridge. Below, she could see the churning waters of a wide river casually sparkling with starlight. There were wetlands and sloughs east of San Francisco Bay but no trains went through them that she could recall. The view made her feel even more abandoned, and she closed the drapes. Turning away from the window, she came face to face with Marty’s wonder tonic. It was still steaming so she couldn’t have been asleep for very long. Sitting up, she took a drink clutching the glass between her ice-cold hands. Its warmth flooded her body inside and out returning the flush to her skin.

A gentle knock on the door was followed by a polite but concerned Pettybone.

“Are you awake, Miss?” he asked.

“Yes, come in,” Lizzie answered pulling the covers tighter around her.

Pettybone sat down on the seat opposite the bed and looked her up and down. Now that her frightened defiance had given way to futility, she seemed so much smaller to him.

“Where are my friends, Pam and Mitch?” she asked.

“They were here earlier asking about you,” he told her. “I promised them we would let them know when you were up and about. They’re back in the lounge for now.”

Lizzie stared into the liquid in the glass watching it rock back and forth. “It’s lighter outside,” she muttered. “I don’t recognize the landscape.”

Pettybone glanced up at the window and back to Lizzie. “It won’t be long now,” he said. “You’re not far from your destination now.”

Lizzie looked up at him as tears silently fell from her eyes. “Why won’t you tell me where I’m going?”

“Because I don’t know, Lizzie. Only you know the answer to that question. Only you can tell us where you’re going. All we can do is wait and then take you to the proper station.”

She stared at him in confusion. “That doesn’t make any sense,” she said. “You can’t just wait for me to tell you I want to get off. There are stops to make. There are stations to pick people up at. There has to be someplace I can get off this train!”

“There is,” he told her calmly. “But it’s a place only you can tell me.”

“What about Pam and Mitch?” she asked. “Where are they getting off?”

Pettybone sat back and crossed his legs. “Your friends’ destination was pre- determined. They had their tickets when they boarded, unlike you. Your destination hasn’t been determined yet.”

Lizzie shook her head in confusion.

“It was pre-determined the minute your husband drove that car onto the tracks,” Pettybone explained.

Lizzie felt her heart clench again, but this time the feeling was weaker. Almost like a memory of the first two attacks. There was no seizure and no fainting spell. It passed quickly leaving her only with an ache in her chest. Brett had taken a shortcut trying to get towards the beaches in San Pablo Bay. The side road took them away from the marinas and towards the open expanses of Point Pinole. Again the ear-shattering screech and sound of breaking glass emerged from her memory. The faint screaming. The weightlessness. Something had happened on that back road. Something terrible. She remembered crossing the tracks. She remembered telling Brett to be careful and not take the turn too fast, the blaring of the radio drowning out her concerns as he bounced across the rails.

She stood up and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. Glancing at the window, she could see that the light outside was brighter. Landscapes and water were no longer shadows but filling in with color. The mournful sound of the train horn floated from up ahead at the engine. It was so familiar. She closed her eyes and tried to remember where she’d heard it before. It had been faint at first, overpowered by the music in the car. But it grew louder and louder as Brett made the turn at the crossing. It became a painful blaring as the tires crossed the tracks and it joined the auditory chaos of screams and metal.

Pettybone stood up and put his hands over Lizzie’s. “I think you’re ready to decide where you wish to go,” he said and led her out of the cabin.

The hallway was brighter. All the windows were now absorbing the creeping glow of dawn. Towards the lounge car, Pam and Mitchell stood waiting. They smiled when they saw her, relieved that she was feeling better. She took a few steps towards them and stumbled. That peculiar feeling of weightlessness overcame her again. She was light-headed as if she were flying and tumbling. She could hear the rushing of water and voices in the distance. She steadied herself and looked back towards Pettybone. He stood smiling kindly but made no effort to help her. Beyond him at the other end of the car stood Calvin the conductor. He also smiled kindly but waited by the door. Waiting for instructions. The distant voices in her head became clearer. Brett’s voice called out with that same underwater effect that Marty the bartender had when she seized in the lounge car.

“Come out of it Lizzie,” he croaked. “Come back, don’t leave!”

Other voices that she didn’t recognize filtered through. Motion that didn’t feel like the pulsing of railways but like wheels on asphalt. Chaotic beeping, urgent voices, and bone-numbing cold that made her shiver uncontrollably. She looked up to where Pam and Mitchell stood patiently waiting. Pam reached out a hand for her to take and smiled.

“It’s the ride of a lifetime,” Pam told her. “You’ll see.”

Again the seizing of her chest and the electrical surge disrupted her thoughts. Brett’s voice calling desperately but seemingly from further away this time as if they were being separated.

“We’re almost there, Lizzie,” Pettybone said kindly. “You have to choose your destination now.”

Lizzie looked up at Pettybone and nodded. She knew now the choice she had to make but was unsure of what to do. She didn’t have to ask him the question. He already knew what she wanted.

He pointed to a lever poised halfway between the doors on either end of the car. It was red and covered in tooled leather. “All you have to do is pull this lever if it’s your wish to disembark. Or you could join your friends in the next car. Their journey is just beginning. It’s your choice, Lizzie.”

Lizzie looked over to Pam and Mitchell. A tear fell down her cheek as she whispered “I love you” to them. They smiled back and hugged each other tightly as Lizzie reached up and pulled the handle.

A loud screech of brakes enveloped the train as it fought against its rapid pace. The car rocked violently. It felt as if it were going to jump the tracks at any minute. She looked back to see Calvin reaching out for her.

“This way, Miss!” he yelled over the noise. “This is your stop!”

Another loud screech and a plume of smoke outside from the brakes as they engaged more forcefully. Lizzie stumbled back towards Calvin falling to her feet twice before crawling the rest of the way. The car rocked even more violently as she reached up from the floor into Calvin’s strong hand. Gripping her tightly he pulled her up from the floor and slammed his palm into the door release. It beeped loud and steady, like a trash truck in reverse. A whoosh of pressurized air blew into the car pulling the acrid smoke of burning brakes into the car. Lizzie covered her face and eyes with her arm as Calvin pulled her forward into the cloud.

In the bright lights of an emergency room in St. Mark’s Trauma Center, a collection of monitors beeped steadily, an oxygen tank hissed, and Elizabeth Mayfield opened her eyes.