Andrew Lane - Red Leech

Sherlock pulled Virginia out of her seat and towards the door. Someone outside opened it, and the two of them jumped to the boardwalk.

“You get food,” he said. “You’ve got the money. I’ll check that they haven’t got off here.”

The boardwalk was crowded with people in dusty clothes made of denim, cord or some kind of patterned cotton that looked a bit like a summer tartan. Sherlock pushed his way through them and moved into the shade of a wall. Some people were leaving the train for good, some were just leaving for a few moments and some were getting on. The ticket collector was striding along making sure that everyone knew where they were going.

Ives — the burly man with the close-cropped blond hair — exited the train with Matty. Berle, the doctor, was probably looking after the half-mad John Wilkes Booth. Matty was looking pale, but Ives seemed to be treating him reasonably well. He wasn’t pushing him around or hitting him, at least, but his hand was resting on Matty’s shoulder. He pushed the boy towards a row of small wooden buildings, little bigger than a garden shed, that sat off to one side of the track. Toilets, Sherlock assumed. Probably just holes in the ground, shielded for privacy.

Ives pushed Matty into one of the outhouses and closed the door. He stood there for a moment, then walked away, grimacing and holding his hand across his face. The smell was obviously driving him away.

Sherlock ran around to the back of the outhouses and counted along to the one he thought Matty had gone into. The wood at the back was almost rotted away at the bottom. Ives had been right. The smell was nauseating.

“Matty!" he hissed through the cracks in the wood.

“Sherlock!" Matty’s voice shouted. “I saw you and Virginia on the train!"

“Did they see us?”

“No. They would have said.”

“Right.” Sherlock tested the wood at the base of the outhouse. “Help me make a hole.”

Together, with Sherlock pulling and Matty pushing, they snapped enough bits of wood off to make a hole big enough for Matty to scramble through. Sherlock grabbed his hand and pulled. Within moments the two boys were standing together.

“Are you all right?” Sherlock asked breathlessly.

“Better now” Matty frowned. “I was scared on the ship, but they treated me pretty well, and they fed me. And I knew you’d come for me.”

“Let’s get out of here.”

Together they snuck along the back of the outhouses. Sherlock peered around the side. Ives was still standing off to one side, waiting.

“Where’s Virginia?” Matt asked.

“She’s getting food.”

“What about Mr Crowe?”

“He’s back in New York,” Sherlock admitted.

“How did that happen?”

Sherlock shook his head. “A whole set of circumstances, all coming together at the same time. It wasn’t part of the plan.”

Ives wandered away, holding his nose. While his back was turned, Sherlock grabbed hold of Matty’s arm. “Come on!"

Together, the two of them ran across the open ground to the simple clapboard building that housed the ticket office and waiting room. Sherlock led Matty around the side, out of sight of Ives if he turned around. Virginia was there waiting for them. She handed Sherlock two twists of paper with something hot inside, then grabbed Matty and gave him a huge hug.

“I’m so glad to see you again!" she said.

Matty squeezed her back. “Me too,” he said, heartfelt.

Sherlock peered around the edge of the building. The crowd was thinning out now — people who were getting on the train there had already boarded, and people who were getting off there had already dispersed. Only a few passengers who had got off to stretch their legs and grab some food were left. The guard was standing beside the train, looking up and down its length and checking his pocket watch. Up at the front, by the engine, the driver was refilling the water from a tank by the side of the track, raised up on stilts.

“All we have to do,” Sherlock said, “is wait here until the train goes, then we get the next train back to New York.”

“It’s not going to be as easy as that,” Virginia warned.

“Why not?”

She pointed back towards the outhouses. “Look!"

Berle and Ives were standing together. Ives was obviously explaining something, and Berles was looking furious.

“They’ve realized Matty has gone,” Sherlock said. “They’ll start searching.”

He was right. Berle and Ives split up, heading off in different directions. Berle went back down the length of the train, looking underneath to see if anyone was standing on the other side, while Ives stalked towards them. No, in fact he was stalking towards the station. He went inside, checking the waiting room

“Quick!" Sherlock said. “This way!"

He led the other two back towards the train.

“We can’t get back on there!" Virginia protested.

“We have to,” he said. “Ives and Berle will check all around the station and the outhouses. If we can get on the train and then off the other side we can make a run for it, then come back when the train has gone.

He scrambled up the steps leading on to the train. Virginia and Matty followed. He could sense their reluctance.

Sherlock quickly moved across to the other side of the carriage and tried the handle of the door.

It was locked.

He twisted harder. No result.

Virginia was at the other door. “They’re coming back!" she called.

Sherlock glanced down the carriage. “We can get to the next door,” he said urgently. “Come on.”

Fortunately they had boarded a different carriage from the one they had left. As they pushed through the central aisle, past people who were standing up, checking their luggage or just wandering up and down, they didn’t see any of the men they were trying to avoid.

At the far end, Sherlock checked the door leading off the train and away from the station. This one was unlocked, but as the door swung open and he prepared to jump off, he caught sight of the burly, blond Ives standing on that side of the train. He was looking away from Sherlock, out into the countryside. Sherlock pulled the door closed quickly.

Virginia was checking the station side. “The bald man is still there,” she called. “He’s checking both sides of the train.”

Outside, the guard blew his whistle. “All aboard!" he called.

Sherlock’s brain was whirling. There was no way off.

“We’ll just have to try again at the next station,” he said decisively. “At least we’ve got Matty off them.”

The guard’s whistle blew again, and seconds later the train jerked and began to move, slowly at first but accelerating gradually. Virginia glanced out of the window. “The bald man has got back on,” she said.

Sherlock checked out of his side. “So has Ives.”

“So everyone’s back on,” Matty pointed out. “Great. And I didn’t even get a chance to go to the toilet like I needed to.”

At least we’ve got food,” Virginia pointed out.

“Let’s find some seats,” Sherlock said. “Preferably as far away as possible from those men. The other end of the train, if we can.” He turned to head away, towards the rear of the train, but something in the silence behind him made him turn back.

Berle and another man whom Sherlock didn’t recognize were standing behind Virginia and Matty holding knives to their throats. They must have come along from the other carriage, from the direction of the front of the train, without them noticing.

Sherlock glanced back over his shoulder.

Ives was striding down the aisle of the carriage Sherlock had been planning to head into. He wasn’t looking happy.

“Don’t be a fool, kid,” Berle said. “Ives is angry enough already. Don’t make him worse. He kinda gets... out of control sometimes. Bad things happen then.”