Brett Battles - Little Girl Gone

“A third?”

“Yeah. A black guy. He handed them train tickets, and now they’re all heading to the platforms.”

Logan took a step away from the building. “They’re leaving?”

“It looks like it.”

They shared a quick look, then ran for the station entrance.

Once through the doors, they found themselves in a large, central hall, its roof rising above them in a gentle arc that stretched the length of the space. In the middle was a tiled area crowded with people, and on one side a couple of hundred plastic, orange-colored seats that all faced the same way. Along the edges of the hall were small shops selling food and magazines and whatever else travelers might need.

“This way,” Daeng said.

They quickly worked their way through the crowd to the glass doors at the left end of the hall where they were met by Daeng’s man. Through the doors, Logan could see the platforms, several of which had trains waiting next to them.

The two men talked quickly, then Daeng said to Logan, “You see them?” He pointed out the window. “Over there, just about to get on that train.”

“I see them,” Logan said.

“Then come on. We need to hurry.”

Instead of leading Logan through the door, Daeng headed straight for the ticket counter in the other direction.

“My bag,” Logan said, suddenly remembering that it was sitting in the back of the car.

Daeng said something to his man, who then ran off while Daeng and Logan continued to the counter. The line was a dozen people deep, but Daeng pleaded their case, and got them to the front. As soon as it was their turn, he told the clerk what they wanted.

There was a quick conversation, then Daeng asked Logan, “You have sixteen hundred baht ?”

Logan pulled a couple of one thousand baht bills out of his pocket, and Daeng exchanged them for two tickets and change.

“We’ve got to run,” Daeng said, glancing up at a station clock. It was almost ten after six. “The train leaves in two minutes.”

As they neared the glass doors, the man who’d been driving them around town rushed up, carrying Logan’s backpack.

“Thanks,” Logan said, grabbing it as they passed.

“ Mai bpen rai ,” the man said.

As they reached the platform, Logan asked Daeng, “You want to tell me where we’re going?”

“Chiang Mai.”

Though it had been a while since Logan had been in Thailand, he knew that Chiang Mai was in the northeastern part of the country, hundreds of miles from Bangkok.

“How long’s that going to take?” he asked.

“All night.”

31

Logan and Daeng made it on the train before it started to roll, but just barely. They were still looking for their seats when they felt a lurch as the engine began to pull them out of the station.

“There,” Daeng said, nodding toward two empty bench seats at the end of the cabin.

He took the one facing forward while Logan took the other.

“No first class tickets left,” he said. “You’ll have to put up with second.”

“What’s the difference?”

“First class gets their own cabins.”

Their car was set up like a series of table-less diner booths running down each side. The booths were open to the aisle in the center, but had walls separating the ones on the same side. Padded gray plastic cushions covered the seats, and were comfortable enough for the ride ahead. And while four people could easily fit in each booth, Logan noticed that there were never occupied by more than two.

A pair of elderly Thai women were sitting across from them, sharing some food and laughing while they talked. When one of the women saw Logan looking over, she held a piece of fruit toward him.

He smiled, but shook him head. “No, thanks.”

She held it there for a second longer, then shrugged and pulled it back.

“ Mai, khrap ,” Daeng said, looking at Logan. “ Khob khun, khrap. It means, no, thank you.”

Logan tried it out a few times until Daeng said he had it close enough. The two ladies nodded encouragingly when he finally got it, one of them even clapping a couple of times.

“I didn’t see the others when we walked through,” Logan said in a low voice once the women had returned to their conversation.

“Neither did I,” Daeng said.

“We’re sure they didn’t get off before the train left?”

“My guy would have called us if they had. The real question is, are they going to where the girl is?”

That had been a worry running through Logan’s mind since the moment he’d realized the others were getting on a train. “I hope so.”

They sat there silently for a few moments.

“How many stops are we going to make?” Logan asked.

“Maybe a dozen. Don’t know for sure.”

That was more than Logan had hoped. The others could get off at any time during the night. “First thing we need to do is figure out where they are so we can keep tabs on them.”

“That should be easy enough,” Daeng said. “How many of them know what you look like?”

“None of the ones on the train, actually. The two who’ve seen me before aren’t here.”

“Still, maybe I should be the one who looks around,” Daeng said. “Your farang face will stick out, and could give us problems later if they spot you somewhere else. Me, I’m just another Thai.”

Logan didn’t completely buy the argument, but it made enough sense that he said, “Go ahead. I’ll wait here.”

As Daeng headed out, Logan slouched down on his bench, antsy. For the last couple of hours his adrenaline had been running at full tilt while they’d followed Aaron through the city. Top that off with the rush to get on the train, and he was having a hard time getting into relax mode.

He looked out the window. They were still in Bangkok, rolling by areas he was pretty sure most tourists didn’t visit. At one point they seemed to pass through what looked like a little village built between the tracks and the city a hundred feet away. There were huts and stores all crammed together and built from scrap, and around them families ate and children played.

He heard the car door nearest him slide open, and sounds from outside momentarily rushed in before it closed again. Between the door and their booth was an area with a sink and a small room with a toilet. So it was a few seconds before the man who had come through the door appeared. He was wearing a uniform, and as soon as he reached Logan’s booth, he said something in Thai.

Logan hesitated a moment, then retrieved his ticket and held it out, assuming that’s what the man wanted. The guy’s smile told him he was right. As the conductor was marking Logan ticket, the train door opened again. Once more there was the delay, then a man squeezed around the back of the conductor. Logan caught a glimpse of his profile, and immediately turned to the window. It was the Caucasian guy who’d been with Aaron.

A hand touched Logan’s shoulder. He hesitated, then turned, bracing himself in case they’d somehow been able to ID him. But it was only the conductor trying to give him back his ticket.

“Sorry,” Logan said, taking it from him. “Thank you. Khob khun …. khrap .”

“ Khob khun, khrap ,” the conductor said, then turned to the women in the opposite booth.

Cautiously, Logan leaned into the aisle and looked toward the far end of the car where the other man had been heading. The guy was just opening the door to move on to the next car. As he did, he nearly ran into Daeng. There was a moment of awkwardness as they moved around each other, then Daeng bowed his head a few inches, and the door shut between them.

“He came from the front of the train,” Logan said once Daeng had rejoined him.