Shattered Girls (Broken Dolls Book 2) (9 page)

“You rarely think of consequences.”

“Don’t be rude. We still need to find Grandpa!”

“But he’s not on here, Gabby! Look around! We would’ve found him by now!”

Defeated, Gabby slumps, and I have to grab her earlobe for support. “I s’pose you’re right.” Turning on her heel, she trudges the way we’d come, studying her grim reflection. And, of course, misses the figure up ahead.

Standing with his back to us, dressed in a white lab coat and black slacks, with his ashy hair thick and askew, is a familiar-looking man.

“Gabby!” I prod, and she stops in her tracks.

Her face instantly brightens. “Grandpa!”

“That’s not the professor,” I whisper.

“What are you talking about?” Gabby rolls her eyes and jogs towards him. “Grandpa! We’re here!”

“Stop, Gabby!” I plead, desperately slapping her temples, but I’m more of an annoyance. A gnat.

Only feet from him, Gabby skids to a stop when the professor turns to face us. His glasses are the same. His wrinkles are in all the right places. He has everything that says it’s him, but the sneer gives it away.

“It’s an imposter,” I say, as the color drains from Gabby’s face. “Remember what Lacy said? The men in white took her away.”

Gabby backs up as the imposter keeps his head down, an unnerving grin spreading across his face.

“Run!” I yell. “Run, now!”

I grab hold of Gabby’s hair as she bolts down the carriages, stumbling over her jellified legs, digging her nails into the seats for support. The imposter chases us, barely running to keep up. He pulls Gabby by the back of her shirt and forces her to the ground. I’m thrown underneath the benches with such force that when I the hit floor, my legs come free and go flying over my head.

“Gabby!” I huff as she lets out a bloodcurdling scream.

Using only my hands to drag myself across the floor isn’t the easiest of tasks. I make a mental note to invest in some superglue.

Grunting and panting, Gabby wrestles with the imposter.

“Leave her alone!” I cry as I arrive at my left leg and jam it into place. “Get away from her!”

She yanks on his hair, but he only winces and wraps his hands around her throat. She slaps them back and scratches at his face.

“
STOP!
” I push myself up on one foot, hop over to my right leg, and swipe it up. “
GOD, PLEASE STOP!
” I yell, popping my leg into place.

As she turns the horrible, deathly shade of blue, Gabby’s eyes roll to the back of her head. She’s passed out. The imposter lifts her and tosses her over his shoulder, her body limp and motionless.

“Come back!” I race from the shadows and into the corridors. I’m left alone on the train as the imposter absconds with Gabby. I can’t catch up, but I have to try.

As I attempt to sprint through the exit, the doors slam closed.

“NO!” I pound on the glass. “Open up! Please!”

Gears spring into action. A horn sounds. The platform moves away, replaced by blurry darkness.

“This can’t be happening…” I whimper, pressing my nose against the glass. “Gabby! Come back!” I sob, collapsing into a heap on the shaggy carpet. My sobs are silenced by the shaky roars of the railway tracks that speed away from the only thing I ever truly believed in.

’ve never been so terrified. I haven’t been alone in years. Gabby always takes me on holidays, excursions;
everything
. I’m like her extra limb. Yet here I am, riding a ghost train. Gabby’s out there somewhere, abducted by an imposter. I let her down…
I let her down
.

Why
didn’t she listen to me? I told her
not
to go on the stupid train! I told her not to run up to the imposter. I even called the cops to counter this and they failed me, too.

The sun sets, but I don’t take my eyes off the door. It has to stop eventually. It
has
to.

I lose hope after three hours. The countryside whizzes past at incredible speed; the trees are a nauseating blur, and the hills in the distance are seemingly motionless. I glance at the walls, frustrated by the lack of maps. Where on earth am I? How can I ever get home? Where’s Gabby?

I
have
to get back to her. I’m the only one who can help! The train isn’t stopping anytime soon, so I get to my feet, roll my shoulders, and make my way towards the end and into the driver’s cabin.

As suspected, the train is driving itself. I climb onto the seat, which spins with only a slight amount of pressure, then onto the control panel. Navigating the buttons to reach the phone hanging by the window, I kick it off the hook and listen for the dial sound. Then, listen some more.

The line is dead. There goes
that
plan. Staring at the controls, I consider twisting knobs and flicking switches, but I don’t think it’s worth the risk. Knowing my luck, I’d blow the whole thing up.

Jumping down, I return to the sliding doors—where all I have left to do is sit down and curl my legs to my chest, sympathizing with my grim reflection.

The gentle rocking and whooshing are somewhat calming, but I miss people talking. Things could be worse. I could be out
there
, in the dark, lost in the wilderness.

“I’m sorry, Gabby.” I bury my head in my lap. “I’m so sorry.”

The train starts to slow, so I grab onto the bar for support. The brakes squeal, and I puff out my chest, determined to stand my ground. As the doors open, I lose my nerve and hurry for cover beneath the seat.

Peering from my position, I cover my mouth with my hand to refrain from screaming.

The professor steps in, his hair ruffled and a smug smile on his face. He sits on the first seat by the door and rests his briefcase on his lap. He opens it, nods, then closes it. I’m tempted to burst into the corridor and demand to know what’s going on, but before I can work up the courage, another professor steps through the door, but this one isn’t wearing glasses.

Wait. What? Does the professor have an identical twin?

Another walks in. Okay, an identical triplet?

“Oh my God…”

Twelve more professors file in. Most of them have briefcases, but some are packing knives instead.

The doors close, and the train pulls away.

“Ah, off to Schenectady!” one professor grins, resting his hands behind his head. “I grew up there, you know. Can’t wait to get revenge on that prissy prom queen who rejected me.”

“Knock it off, Nathan.” The professor next to him rolls his eyes. “This isn’t about revenge.”

“Yeah!” another speaks up. “It’s about the money, money, money!” He stands up and body rolls while several professors cheer him on. “Yeah!”

“So where are you guys heading to?” the professor sitting across from him asks.

“Watervliet.”

“Oswego.”

“Back to Hudson.”

“Hornell then Glen Cove.”

“Albany.”

“Haven’t got my coordinates, yet. The boss said he’d call me.”

The professor without glasses twiddles his thumbs. “Do you guys ever regret what we do?”

The dancing professor scoffs. “It doesn’t affect us. The world needs smarter people! It’s not like we’re killing anyone. Sacrifices must be made, don’t they? The greater good and all that. It’s important to scope out these cities.”

“Yeah, I guess… I just think about my nieces. They’re the creative types. They excel in music and art, not so much in STEM subjects. Does that mean they should be wiped from society?”

“Rick, if it bothers you that much, quit. No one’s forcing you to stay.”

The one called Rick sighs and strokes the edge of his briefcase. “It just seems so surreal. Even this train is messed up.”

“How so?”

“A secret train that only we board? Doesn’t that seem… I don’t know, Big Brother?”

The one called Nathan flicks out his phone and presses one number. It doesn’t take long for him to connect. “Yeah, hey, Tess. Rick is having second thoughts. Deactivate him.”

“
WHAT
?!” Rick shoots up and waves his hands wildly. “
No
, don’t—” Without warning, his eyes roll up and he crashes to the ground.

I stare at… the corpse? Is this a corpse?
Please, someone
, tear me out of this nightmare!

“That took care of that.” Nathan rubs his hands together, the satisfaction of a job well done rolling off him in greasy waves. “I’ll take him to Schenectady. Someone else might be able to pop into his body and come with me.”

Shoving my hair into my mouth to keep audible sobs from escaping my throat, I rock back and forth and imagine my happy place as the professor’s clones laugh and tease one another. One by one, they all exit the train at various stops, until I’m once again left alone in the darkness.

It’s nighttime. The clones haven’t stepped onto the train for a good twelve hours. I’ve worked up the courage to sit by the doors again, but I’m losing all hope. I nervously stare at the dark platform when the train comes to a stop.

The doors open, and I glance up at the man who rests his hands on his belt.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

“How long has it been?” I shield my eyes from his torch.

“Thirty or so hours. I knew the train would loop back here eventually.”

“Where’s Gabby?”

“She’s with me.” Officer Bloom bends over and offers his hands for me to jump on. “Were you the anonymous tipster?” I don’t respond, so he puts me on his shoulder and continues. “We were here when the imposter ran from the station. He was strong. A little
too
strong, but we managed to tackle him. Gabby’s pretty shaken up. I was about to take her home, but she burst into tears and said her parents were missing. And she didn’t want to go to her aunt’s until she knew you were safe, so she’s with my daughter finishing their group assignment.”

I don’t know what to say. When we get into the car, he places me in the passenger seat and even straps the seatbelt around me. Why on earth would any police officer go to this much effort to rescue a teenager’s robot doll?

As we drive in silence to his house, I can’t shake the awful feeling that he knows something I don’t.