NO WAY OUT
“It says, ‘No Way Out’, Michael.” Carrie pointed to the sign at the main entrance to Fairway-Union Station.
“But, honey, there has to be.”
“Why?” Carrie’s eyes still sparked with light of a newlywed. She flashed a crooked smile. This had been one heck of a honeymoon. She couldn’t wait to get into their new house. With the large bedroom and whirlpool tub.
Michael narrowed his eyes, then smirked.
He’s had way too good of a time. And he wants more of a good time. And, so do I. Still, they couldn’t continue honeymooning until they got out of there.
“Wait.” Michael looked at the entrance sign and back to what he thought should have been the exit sign. “Maybe it’s ‘round back.”
He picked up the larger of the two suitcases and started to walk down the large aisle moving around the milling crowds, newspaper vendors and Starbucks, who made up the center of the station. They followed a group who made their way onto the train platforms.
“That’s what happened. The exits are probably at the other end of the platform.”
“Why should they have entrances at one side and exits at the other?” But Michael was already two strides ahead.
“Mike, wait.” Carrie trotted trying to keep up with her husband’s long legs and enthusiastic stride. She nearly fell into his back when he stopped.
A man in a grey flannel suit towered over the pair. His lips curved down into a frown and his gray eyes--well, there was something murky hidden behind them.
Michael didn’t seem to notice the man’s demeanor. “We can’t seem to find the exits. We just went to the main entrance, but the exits must be blocked off.”
“You want the exit?” The man’s eyebrows narrowed and his frown went deeper, if that were possible. Carrie caught a sharp queasiness in the pit of her stomach. He made her shiver. His slim, bony fingers pointed down a long, dark hall flooded with a mass of humanity.
“Uh, thanks,” Michael said.
They started down the aisle dodging people who seemed to move in slow motion. Carrie glanced back. The man in the gray suit stood watching them.
“God! Don’t these people have anywhere to go?” Michael’s enthusiasm seemed to get shorter and shorter as the aisle got longer and longer.
“Mike!” Carrie stopped in her tracks as she pointed to the sign by door.
“No Exit”
“Jeez! Now what?” Michael looked at Carrie, then glanced around at the long end of the station. He shook his head a shrugged. “Now what?” he repeated a little louder.
“Can’t we just exit anyway? Go out the entrance?” They watched as a couple of people entered the large doors which separated the station from the outside world. Carrie walked over to the entrance and nearly got run down as a river of people poured in. When Michael tried the door again, the door locked from the inside. People could get in, but not out.
“Locked!”
Goosebumps gathered. Carrie grabbed Michael’s arm and pushed against him. “This is too spooky.”
A skeleton of a woman and two small children approached. The woman’s pallid skin seemed to encase a too small frame, whereas, her eyes were so huge they made her face look out of proportion. The kids were skin and bones, as Carrie’s mother had warned her when she was little, when she didn’t finish her dinner. This familhy could have stepped out of a Nazi concentration camp.
“Spooky,” Michael repeated. He stood as the family passed. “Who are these people?”
“I don’t know, but I think we should ask them if they know how to get out.”
“I have my doubts,” but Michael walked over to the woman anyway.
When he stopped her, she shrunk back.
“Can you tell me how we get out of here?”
“There’s no way out of here, sir,” she said. She gave a small sorrowful glance toward Carrie and continued on her way.
“Wait a minute. Please!”
The woman glanced back, but kept going. “No way out.”
“Michael. She looked like death!” Carrie shivered. “What is this place?”
“Now don’t you start. This is a train station, Carrie. Just a plain train station. That’s all. Come on. There’s probably an exit on the other side of the platforms.”
“Okay.” Carrie hurried along, not wanting Michael to see how scared she actually was
“This was just bad management,” Michael said. “Bad planning on the city’s part. Typical. I’m writing the mayor. Calling the Governor’s office. If we ever get out of here.”
They passed the train on which they’d arrived. The dent on the front of the engine where it had rammed into the side of an empty box car gleamed in the sunlight. The Accident. A frightening experience. Luckily no one had been injured. Michael watched the conductor change the destination signs. He hurried passed somehow feeling sorry for the emptiness of the train. He didn’t know why.
Another conductor put up another destination sign. This time Michael stopped and stared. There was no writing on the sign. It just had a simple arrow--pointing down. He tried to get the conductor’s attention but the man just stared passed him.
“Michael, let’s go.” Then Carrie stopped and stared at the conductors--at their signs. Only arrows. No letters. Carrie tugged at his sleeve.
“What does that mean?”
Michael shook his head. “I don’t know. I can’t get anyone to answer my questions.”
They saw a swarm of people loading onto the train. The conductor seemed to be checking off a list. Some people he turned away and pointed in another direction. They seemed relieved. A group of people unloaded from another train and moved in their direction. Some were pleading, some were crying.
“There’s no escape,” one said shaking his head at Michael as he walked by.
“No escape from what?” No answer.
“Sir?” Michael walked up to the conductor.
“Son. You’re not on my list.”
“What list? How do you know who we are?” He stopped and stared at the man’s face. Almost translucent. “Uh,” Michael said, “Where is this train going?”
“You haven’t figured it out yet?”
“Figured what out?” In spite of himself, Michael started to sweat. He felt a numbing, tingling sensation in his feet. His head started to swirl with surreal thoughts.
“Son, move away. You go to that train over there.”
“But, I’m coming from Southport. I’m trying to find the exit to the street.”
“There is no exit onto the street, son.”
What do you mean?” Michael was nearly screaming now. Carried stood by watching in alarm.
“Son. You remember that accident you had on the train?”
“Yeah, so?”
The conductor pointed to a paper in a nearby newspaper rack. The headlines read:
“Train Crashes in Southport. All passengers killed”
Slowly, Michael and Carrie let themselves be carried in the direction of the train on the opposite platform. The one with the dent. The destination pointed up.
