Ashlyn's Radio (12 page)

“Holy God!” Caden whispered. “It’s … it’s real.”

“It’s horrifying!” Ashlyn said.

“No.” Rachel shook her head. “It’s … it’s beautiful. Can’t you see … can’t you see how peaceful?”

“All aboard!” The conductor’s voice boomed into the blackness as he held 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, the conductor stepped back inside the engine.

Slowly, the train began to move again, and Ashlyn watched helplessly as soul-laden car after car slipped past, the faces of the damned pressed forlornly against the windows. Ashlyn tried to see all of them individually, tried to memorize their faces, but when it came to the last car, one soul in particular drew her attention. Unlike the others, this young man moved the length of the passenger car, as though to keep the three on the riverbank in his sight as long as possible. When that final car cleared the bridge and chugged away, the man was standing at the back window, his right palm pressed to the glass, his face set in lines of sorrow, his mouth hanging open in an agonizing scream.

Tears leapt to Ashlyn’s eyes. Beside her, Rachel sniffled and Caden murmured, “God, have mercy.” 

As they stood there watching the train’s retreat, each mired in their own emotions, Rachel’s orange scarf floated down to land at Ashlyn’s feet.

A
SHLYN
’
S KNEE TWINGED WITH
every step she took, but she did her best to minimize the limping. What she really needed was an ice pack and some Ibuprofen. And possibly one of those sleeping pills she’d seen in her grandmother’s medicine cabinet. What she was getting instead was an extra thirty minutes tagged on to the walk home. But she didn’t begrudge one step of it. They had to make sure Rachel got home safely.

When the sound of the train had finally faded, Rachel had herself under control again.

“Told you it was impressive,” she’d said, as though the events of the past few minutes had never happened.

When Ashlyn and Caden had just gaped at her, she’d lifted a shoulder in that negligent shrug of hers and said, “Well, see you on Monday, I guess,” and turned to leave.

“Oh no you don’t, Rachel Riley!” Ashlyn had grabbed Rachel’s arm. “You are not going to walk away just like that. Dammit, girl, you tried to get on that train! If I hadn’t caught your scarf … if Caden hadn’t—”

“What?” Rachel had rounded on her, suddenly angrier than Ashlyn had ever seen her. “Do you want me to
thank
you? Is that it?”

Ashlyn had stepped back. “Jesus, Rachel—”

“If you think I’m going to talk about it right now —
any
of it — you can think again. I’m going home.”

“But—”

Caden had stepped in, laying a soothing hand — or maybe that was a warning hand — on Ashlyn’s arm as he turned to Rachel. “Good plan, Rach. We’ll walk you.”

Of course, Rachel protested, but Caden wasn’t taking no for an answer. “You don’t want to talk about what happened yet, that’s fine. We probably all need some time to process it. But there’s no way you’re going home to a hostile reception. Not after tonight. If there’s any doubt about that, we’re not leaving you there alone.”

Finally realizing the futility of resistance, she’d given in. So here they were, trudging toward Rachel’s house, which was in the opposite direction from Ashlyn’s. Thankfully, they could cross over the tracks at the station and follow the road. It was the shortest route, Rachel assured. And of course, no one on it. All of superstitious Prescott Junction was home in their beds.

There was very little talking as they walked, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Or maybe they were just shell-shocked.

“Ashlyn, you’re limping!” This from Caden, about ten minutes into the journey. Somehow, he made it sound like an accusation.

“My knee feels kinda loose is all,” she said. “It’s nothing. I’m just babying it a little.”

He pulled her to a stop. “Let me see.”

See it?
She looked down are her skinny legged jeans. No way were they going up over her calves and swollen knee. “Caden, I am
not
peeling down in the middle of the road, even if it is deserted. The knee’s fine.”

“Okay, let me rephrase that. Let me
feel
it.” He dropped to one knee to run his hands over the joint, probing and testing.

“Ow!”

“Damn, Ashlyn. Why didn’t you tell me you hurt yourself? It might be sprained. Or worse.”

“It’s not sprained. Believe me, I’d know. I sprained my knee once, goofing around trying to do an air-flare. This isn’t anything like that. It’s just a little wobbly and loose.”

“An
air-flare
?” Caden tipped his head up to look at her. “What, you a B-girl or something?”

“Nah. Just a girl who doesn’t know how to turn down a dare.” Then, because he still crouched beside her with his warm hands on her knee and she was growing more flustered by the minute, she said, “So, are you gonna get up, Caden, or were you thinking of proposing?”

“Ya, right.” He stood. “Damn, I wish I’d brought my dad’s car.”

“It’s okay,” Ashlyn insisted. “It’s really not that bad.”

“Maybe you should wait here. We can get you settled somewhere by the side of the road and I’ll come back and pick you up.”

Wait by the side of the road, completely alone, in the middle of the night? In a world that she now knew included evil radios that wouldn’t shut up and ghost trains staffed by demented, soul-stealing conductors and packed with the trapped, tortured souls of the departed?

“
No freakin’ way
. I’m coming with you. My knee’s fine.”

“It’s okay, guys,” Rachel interjected. “I can make my way home from here. We’re almost there anyway.”

“Whether or not you can get home by yourself is not the issue,” Caden reminded her. “Whether you
should
, is.”

“Exactly. So what are we standing around for?” Ashlyn started off again.

Caden came up behind her and slid an arm around her on the bad side. “Put your arm around me and let me help you.”

“Caden Williams, that’s the best offer I’ve had all night.” She put her arm around him and let him accept some of her weight. Immediately, her knee felt better. So did the rest of her. After all that had happened, feeling his warm, lean strength against her was exactly what she needed. Maybe he needed it too.

It struck her then. If she needed the comfort of human warmth this badly, how must Rachel be feeling? If she faced abuse at home, who did she turn to for support or a reassuring touch? Comfort?

No one, she realized. The witch, the caustic-tongued outsider, had no one.

“Hey, Rach, how you feeling? Any injuries from the tumble?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Then could you come over here and support me on the other side? I could really use the help.”

Rachel was there in a second, curling an arm around Ashlyn. “Like this?”

Ashlyn looped her arm around the other girl, transferring a little of her weight to make the ploy believable. “Perfect.”

Arms wrapped around each other, the three walked on.  

After a few moments with no sound but the chirping and buzzing of insects and the muffled shuffling and scraping of their footfalls on the asphalt, Rachel said, “So Ash, are you sorry I dragged you out tonight? Would you be happier not knowing for sure, like everyone else? Not seeing it for yourself?”

The question surprised Ashlyn. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about it?”

“You’re right,” Rachel said quickly. “Forget it.”

But how could she forget it?

Would she rather be home right now, with the covers pulled up to her chin? She had to admit that a huge part of her screamed YES! She flashed back to the conductor, how easily he’d reeled her in with the scarf without her even noticing, and her heart started that panicked hammering again. What she’d seen tonight … it was going to give her nightmares, maybe for the rest of her life. Still….

She sighed. “No, I guess I’m not sorry. I mean, I don’t
ever
want to get so up close and personal with it again, but knowing is always better than not knowing, right?”

There was a moment of silence, but all Ashlyn heard was the echo of her own words. Was it
always
better to know? For instance, did she want to know what horrors walked her mother’s nightmares? Just what tormented her enough to make her try to turn her car into a freakin’ firebomb? What could possibly be so horrible as to send her into the oblivion of heavy-duty sedatives rather than back to her daughter and their home?

Rachel’s voice dragged her out of her dark thoughts when she put the same question to Caden. “What about you, Caden? Do you wish you’d stayed at home tonight? Or do you welcome the knowledge?”

“Welcome it?” He laughed, and Ashlyn absorbed the rumble. “I guess. Sort of in the same way I welcome knowing about HIV or Chlamydia. I might wish I didn’t have to know about it, but ignorance won’t shield me.”

Rachel laughed. “Omigod, an STD analogy?”

“And just about as pleasant,” Ashlyn said. “Hey, is that a light up ahead?”

She felt Rachel tense slightly.

“Yep, that’s Casa Riley. They always leave that porch light burning, every night, all night. God knows why. I mean, it’s not like we’re going to have any callers. Who goes out after dark?”