Alice Henderson - Voracious

“What is it?”

Madeline turned to look at her friend, her eyes wide. “My friend Noah. He’s going to get himself killed.”

ASsoon as the train screeched to a halt at the Whitefish station, Madeline looked out one of the windows. The police had arrived, and an announcement from the conductor told them that no one was allowed to leave the train until questions had been asked.

Madeline clenched her teeth. “Damn!”

The other passengers who wanted to get off at Whitefish groaned and complained, standing impatiently in the aisles. They obviously hadn’t heard yet about the disaster in the observation car.

“C’mon!” She grabbed George’s hand, and they darted to the opposite side of the train from the platform. Another set of tracks lay on that side. She pressed the emergency release button on a door on that side. The alarm was still jangling from before, so no new alarm went off to draw attention to them.

“Are you crazy?” George shouted.

“I don’t have a choice.” She grabbed him harshly around the wrist and dragged him out of the train, bounding over the tracks. Large pools of light illuminated the station on this side, and she quickly ran to the extent of the light and darted into the shadows. Dark shrubbery and trees swallowed them on that side of the station, and they ran on.

She listened carefully for signs of pursuit. She didn’t hear any police officers call out or hear anyone crashing through the bushes behind them. They reached a quiet, urban street, all the stores locked up for the night. She released her grip on George, who followed breathlessly, demanding to know where they were going. She shushed him rudely, not stopping to explain until they were several blocks from the station.

She turned down a shadowed, suburban street and stopped, waiting for him to catch up.

“I don’t think they followed us. It was pretty chaotic back there.”

“Okay,” he said panting, trying to catch his breath. “Now you explain?”

She nodded. “Okay. As best I can. And while I’m talking, we have to find a way back to your car.”

He brought his hand to his head. “I thought you’d decided on the bus?”

“No. The creature is headed back to his cabin. And my friend Noah is waiting for him there. I have to help him.” She gazed up and down the street, trying to spot the way to Highway 2, which led back into the park. “Let’s walk while we talk.” She picked up the pace to a jog, heading toward a gas station where she could get directions to the highway. “We’ll have to hitch,” she said.

They reached the gas station, and she went inside the snack store. A burly man sat behind the counter, eating a long piece of round jerky. “Can I help you, miss?” he asked, swallowing.

“Which way to Highway 2?”

He pointed out of the window. “It’s about seven blocks that way,” he said. “Just go straight. You can’t miss it.”

“Thanks,” she said and quickly left the store, George still following in bewilderment.

She spotted a pay phone and stopped. “I have to make a phone call. Got to know my dad is okay. I’ll be right back.” She walked to the phone and dialed his house. Her father answered on the second ring. When she heard his voice she paused, not knowing what to say. They hadn’t talked in over a year, she realized. Tempted to hang up, she remained gripping the phone. “Dad?” she said finally.

“Maddy?” he answered. “What’s wrong?”

A painful lump in her throat swelled up, and she forced a swallow. For a second she was four years old again, still his little girl. She longed to tell him what had happened, ask for his advice, his help. But instead she remained quiet. She hadn’t been his little girl for years now, not since the divorce. “Nothing,” she said at last. “Just wanted to see how you were.”

“You have one of your visions or something?” The coldness in his voice cut her.

“No, Daddy. Just hadn’t talked to you in a long time.”

“Yeah,” he answered simply, sounding distracted. She heard the TV in the background: football.

“So you’re okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He cursed at the home team, then went quiet.

“Well, I’ll let you go, then,” she said, her heart heavy.

“Okay,” he said, and hung up the receiver.

Madeline replaced the handset, and still holding on to it, burst into tears.

“Mad,” George said gently, walking over to her. He turned her around to face him, then took her in his arms. “I’m so sorry.”

“So am I, George.” She desperately missed the family she’d once belonged to. Sitting on the couch watching movies with her mom. Hiking with her dad. She’d become a pariah, even to them. Some nights, sitting alone in her tiny apartment, the grief was palpable. She had never felt so alone in her life than she did then, sitting on her worn couch, with only memories as companions.

She put her head on George’s chest, felt his hand stroking her hair. Her dad was fine. And she suspected Steve was okay, as well. “This must be pretty serious for you to call your dad. That can’t have been easy. You want to tell me what all has happened?”

She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and pulled away, embarrassed for breaking down. She started walking briskly in the direction the clerk had indicated, and he followed. “Okay,” she said, sniffing and taking several deep breaths. “Here’s the deal. That thing on the train? It eats people. And it wants to eat me, to get my psychometric talent. Only I’m not going to let it. And Noah is this guy who’s been hunting it for centuries. Only now he’s on some suicide mission, and I’ve got to stop him.” She paused for breath. “Make sense?”

George didn’t answer. He continued to walk quickly beside her. “Yeah,” he said finally. “Given what I’ve seen today, I’d definitely say yeah.”

“This creature can look like anyone,” she said further. “I thought you were him.”

George touched the bandage on his head. “Oh.”

“Sorry about that.” Madeline started to jog again, feeling the strain in her exhausted body. But she had to keep going. The cut in her arm had finally stopped bleeding, and her blood-soaked shirt was positively stiff. Luckily, the shirt was dark green, and people wouldn’t notice the blood so easily now that it was night. “Let’s scare up a ride.” She marched toward the highway and the uncertain future that lay before her.

After ten minutes of standing on the side of Highway 2, Madeline and George were picked up by a young man driving a red Ford pickup truck. Squeezing onto the front bench, they drove the twenty-seven miles to West Glacier, she and the driver, Phil, talking animatedly. He was spending his summer helping with his family’s ranch. Despite her dire mood, Madeline found Phil quite funny and laughed at more than one of his jokes about his family and long, hot days spent mending fences.

George, on the other hand, remained completely quiet.

“I’ve never seen people hitch into Glacier without at least a backpack,” Phil commented as he dropped them off near George’s car.

“Our gear is stashed at our friend’s house here,” Madeline lied, feeling a little bad about it but knowing she couldn’t go into the actual story.

Phil nodded.

“Thanks!” she said, closing the door.

George waved, though he still didn’t say anything. Phil drove off, and George walked like a zombie toward his car.

“Are you okay?” she asked him.

He nodded.

She wondered if the insanity of the situation had finally caught up to him. “You don’t look okay.”

They walked in silence to his car, which was parked in one corner of the gas station’s parking lot, the same station that doubled as the repair garage. Her Rabbit stood at the other end of the lot, next to the large bay doors of the garage. She felt sad seeing it sit there forlornly.