Another Life

“He's the one, him.”

Deon felt his shoulder shaking, “Hey you. Sir, sir, wake up.”

Deon, winced, his eyelids felt like they weighed a hundred pounds each. He found his words difficult to form, as he slurred awake. “Wha, who is it?” He felt the slight pull of gravity at his limbs, he imagined for a moment he was floating in space. His dark eyes shot open, to the unfamiliar hands on his shoulder.

A fairly obese conductor stared seriously at him. “I'm going to have to ask you to come with me.”

Deon looked around at the place he found himself in. His legs were sprawled into a thin aisle among rows of people who were staring. He lifted his head attempting to look past the fat man, but he was better off looking through a door. Am I on a plane?

“Where, where am I?”

The conductor, Ned his name badge showed, pushed up his circular glasses, glancing around impatiently. “Sir, you are on the Amtrak, from Philadelphia to Penn Station New York City. Can I see your ticket?”

“A Train?” Deon felt his pockets subconsciously, lets see wallet, keys, phone, pocket knife, a walkie talkie? His hand paused at the oblong shape above his appendix. Fuck, I have a gun? Why do I have a gun?

The conductor must've seen the shock on Deon's face. “I'll take that as a no?"

“Wait!” he said as he pulled out his wallet, searching for a ticket that wasn't there. He noticed his hand caught on a lanyard when he had reached for his wallet. He padded it carefully as if it were a trip wire, before looking down at it, the name tag said Kenneth.

Ned looked as surprised as Deon must have, and said “you’re staff? How come I've never seen you before?” Deon didn't really have an answer, he literally couldn't remember getting on this train from Philadelphia to New York, he didn't remember apparently carrying a gun on the train, and he definitely didn't remember, or know why he had a fake name badge for that matter. He also didn't remember-

“Please get him away from me, he tried to attack me! You gotta’ get him away.”

One of the most beautiful women Deon had ever seen peaked around the fat man, Ned. Her tan face twisted in both rage, and fear. She had curls and the look that said she was Boniqua.

And I definitely don't remember you.

Deon stood up going past the fat man who walked behind him. He passed another female conductor with braids who was speaking into the radio; she glared at him as he went by.

Ned got on his radio as well. “This is Ned, we are going to the food car.”

Deon could feel the shocked cow eyes of the innumerable passengers staring him up and down.

What did I do? And why can't I remember a damn thing?

The train bumped slightly, Deon stumbled, gripping the faux leather seat next to him for balance.

Out the window green countryside lined the horizon, and on the other side the hilly mountainous terrain of Pennsylvania.

Deon felt Ned's hand ushering him along. “Easy man, okay I got it, I got it.”

“Come on Kenneth, you have a lot explaining to do.”

Deon waddled along through the sticky sweat laced air until finally they were met by a sign Dining, with a small menu placard beneath it. Eight dollars for a beer that's the real crime.

Deon looked behind him and saw the Latina stepping into her seat a few rows before the food cart, staring lightning bolts as she took her seat.

Deon made a face that he thought mimed that he was sorry, for whatever he did.

“Have a seat.”

Deon sat down at one of the dining tables as Ned stood over him, obviously for some sort of control.

A rather buff attendant was working behind the food cart counter who made eye contact with Deon for a brief moment.

Another, more security looking type conductor emerged from the economy section opposite of where Deon and Ned were. He had the typical ex-cop, ex military, or wannabe, high and tight hair cut.

“So please explain yourself. This lady says she comes across you doing some sort of wiring? and when she sees you doing it you come at her aggressively and there's a bump and you pass out a moment later. So what's going on?”

Deon ground his teeth in thought, still fighting to remember anything.

“I, I don't know what to say, I quite literally don't remember anything.”

Ned looked at the other conductor who Deon noticed was now much closer.

“Hmm, so maybe a concussion or somethin’? Another interesting thought, who the hell are you? Cus’ I know everyone working on the shift, we've been together for months, and you just mosey on here doing electrical work.”

Deon opened his mouth to speak but Ned turned to the other conductor, “you know Kenneth here Joe?”

The security looking guy, Joe, pursed his lips shaking his head, “Na, not at all. You said he attacked someone? Has he been patted down?”

Ned was suddenly taken aback, his eyes widened slightly. “Eh.. No.” The other- Joe shook his head.

Deon didn't know what to do, he felt sweat pooling at his lower back. He figured he best comply.

He stood slowly per their commands stretching his hands to his sides. Joe slowly traced Deon's arms and body with his hands. Deon wondered how this would go when they found that he had a gun and knife.

Joe, as if on queue, turned Deon around feeling above his buttocks and belt loops, and slowly was making his way toward the pistol grip that was right above Deon's groin. Deon closed his eyes. When Joe's hand stopped less than two inches away.

“I know him.” A Deep voice said.

Who knows me?

Deon opened his eyes to see the food attendant staring at him, he had honestly forgotten he was there.

“You know him?” Both Joe and Ned responded.

“Yeah, corporate put him on last minute to do light electrical work on the train.” He said as his brown eyes went back and forth between the two conductors. There was something about them, his eyes had something more behind them, Deon couldn't quite place it.

“Well no shit, no one tells us anything, Christ!” Ned exclaimed.

Joe leaned back, but his hands were still on Deon's belt buckle, “well your friend here still attempted to assault a passenger, sooo we gotta figure some things out before doing a report. ‘Cus I'm sure shes gonna file a complaint.”

Deon's heart skipped as Joe's hand reached further, touching the handle of his pistol.

Joe froze, as did everything in the room. “Gun!” He pulled it from the belt and kicked out the back of his knees plunging Deon down to the table, he could feel himself being put into restraints.

Then he heard what sounded like two gentle whooshes, felt Joe seize up behind him, his grip loosening on Deon's hand.

Joe cried out gasping, Deon turned to see Joe's hands covering his throat, blood spurting from him. Deon fell away from him in shock.

“What the fuck!”

Ned's hands shot up in what Deon thought was surprise. He heard the same two whoosh sounds again and watched as Ned's face widened in surprise, his mouth gaped open. A red blot spread like wine in the middle of his blue button up.

Deon didn't see it at first but there was a hole in the middle of his head as well. Ned slumped heavily down onto the table behind him, rolling off it crashing to the carpeted floor. Deon stayed where he was, his mouth as wide as Ned's. He looked up from the bodies to the source of their demise.

The food worker stood with a blank face, in his hand a pistol of some kind with a long can shaped silencer attached to the muzzle of it, a light cloud of smoke still billowed from it before evaporating. That was the look that was in his eyes Deon realized. It was the eyes of a cold blooded killer.

“You just moved us way ahead of schedule.”

“Sc-schedule? For what?” Deon stammered, he pulled his hand away from his face discovering it was covered in Ned's blood.

Just then a shocked voice came over the two. “Oh my god!” Deon and his apparent accomplice looked from each other to the source of the voice, there standing with her hands cupped over her face was the Latina woman. She turned to run away, blank face looked at Deon and almost spoke in a whisper, “We gotta’ stop her.” He then went sprinting after her.

She apparently had stumbled in between the cars. Watching as blank face pulled her away from the next car's doors Deon was more confused than ever as to what his role was here.

Her face morphed in pain, despite the pain she fought, using her elbow to create space. Blank face looked at Deon grunting as he held her in a full nelson. In between grunts he said, “Ugh, go on put her down.”

Deon pulled out his knife holding it lightly in his hand. Her eyes pleaded for her life.

Deon thought, I don't know what I was supposed to be doing on this train but I know this isn't right.

Blank face tightened his choke hold on her, her eyes seemed to flutter, rolling backwards. “Fine then. I'll do it.”

Deon placed his left hand on her shoulder using it as a brace of sorts, he then plunged the blade into the side of the big man, stabbing over and over as fast and as hard as he could. He couldn't help but feel like he had done it before.

She fell from blank faces arms, barely catching herself on the walls. “Ughhh,” he croaked, his hands went to wrap around Deon's throat but Deon tossed them aside stabbing more as the big man finally fell to the floor.

The two stood, catching their breath looking down upon the man as the life left his eyes. The puddle of blood growing.

Deon gently helped her up, “Are you okay?”

She nodded with her hand still covering her throat. She then pulled away from Deon forcefully.

“What the fuck are you? First you attack me then you save me?”

“I..I'm sorry, honestly I don't know. I literally don't remember anything. I just remember my name's Deon, and apparently that guy knows me.” Deon gestured to the dead man. “Or well knew me.”

"Well that's very comforting, the man who tried attacking me was boys with some assassin who flips food on the side.”

Deon knelt down to the body, feeling inside the pockets, inside he found a setup much like his own. A wallet, knife, walkie talkie, and his hand paused over a syringe. It was filled to the brim with a dark green liquid.

Deon looked up at the women. Her hair coiled over her face, but beneath it he could see a spreckle of fear. “Did I come at you with something like this?”

She nodded slowly, as if expecting Deon to try to finish the job.

“Well whatever shit I was on, I'm not on that now. I just want to get off this train and stop whatever is happening.”

She stared at him, he noticed now her eyes were a deep green almost emerald, comparable to the liquid in the syringe. “My name is Mariela.”

Deon let himself smile, “good to meet you Mariela.”

Just then both radios buzzed to life. “Kenneth, are you green and in position?”

Deon looked at the talkie, remembering that he was Kenneth.

“Uh, yeah green.”

“Calvin check in. Calvin check in?” Nothing but radio silence.

Mariela pulled back the overcoat of the dead man, her face coiled in disgust. Upon the body was a name badge Calvin. Deon struggled to remember how “Calvin's” voice had been, “he then rasped a low, dead sounding voice into the talkie. “Roger, I'm green.”

There was a long pause, with just Mariela and Deon staring at each other waiting for the worst.

The voice answered, “Okay, we are all green, Ralph and I are going to the drivers now.”

“Jesus.” Mariela and Deon said at the same time.

“Take me to where you found me messing with stuff, and maybe we can figure out what the fuck is happening here.” She nodded, “then we need to tell one of the conductors that this train is being hijacked.”

Deon nodded back, yeah but we don't know whose an actual conductor or not.” The two stood silent again for a moment, when Mariela pointed to the walkie talkie, “well I bet that will help figure that out some.”

Mariela led Deon to where he had attempted to jump her, it was as secluded a spot as could be on the train. “Here's where it happened.” She said dryly

Deon scanned the area, it was more or less the middle of the train; there were a few levers, and switches assorted by a partial window. “Hmm what the hell could I have been doing back here?” He said with his hand rubbing his trimmed goatee.

“When I came around you were messing with something in the wall, and like… I don't know you had wire cutters that you were putting away.” She looked around the floor, “there! On the floor.”

Deon picked them up inspecting them.. “So I'm an electrician?”

“Yeaah, I don't think so.”

Deon traced his hands along the wall searching for any hidden wires.

When he found what he was looking for, his fingernails caught the edge of something. It would've been almost invisible to the eye unless you knew it was there, there was a hidden compartment which he peeled from the wall.

“Damn how'd you see..?” Mariela stopped, her eyes widened as the contents of the compartment became visible, Deon's mouth dropped.

“Is that… What I think it is?”

Among a spider's web of wires was a rectangular box, roughly the size of a small laptop.

Along the top was a blinking red light with a dormant light next to that. Most interestingly to Deon was the digital timer, clicking down from 48 minutes. More or less the amount of time left on the train ride.

“Oh my god.” His voice shocked Mariela. “Its a fucking bomb.” His hands went behind his head as he stepped back. “I put a bomb on this train, and its going to blow up when it gets to Grand Central.”

“Do you think you could disarm it?” Deons face winced at the question,

“I have no fucking clue where to start.”

Mariela bared her teeth in fright, she had very good teeth Deon noted. “Mierda.” She exclaimed.

“We are going kinetic, prepare.” A bored voice echoed on the walkie talkie now.

At that moment Deon and Mariela both could feel the train picking up speed.

“Apparently they are starting whatever their plan is.”

Deon tossed aside the false wall panel “Cmon lets try and put a stop to this."

The two made their way down the aisles. They struggled to keep balance, both of them nearly fell into the laps of numerous passengers who murmured in shock.

The talkie rang out “We got a problem, Calvin is down, and some conductors with him”

“Shit, anyone seen?” Another voice asked.

Deon caught the glance of some of the passengers, but they didn't seem to hear it completely due to the general loudness of the train. They finally came back to the food car, to find that it had been roped off with a sign saying it was closed. Around the corner was another perp standing over the bodies with a balaclava covering his face. His posture seemed to relax when he saw it was Deon.

“What the fuck happened here?” Deon put his hand around the corner, holding Mariela in place.

“I don't know man, he must have got caught.”

“Shit and not a sound at all in the train?”

“Naw, all's quiet, seems like everyone is seated due to the speed.”

“Well, we are almost to NY, and the speed triggers been engaged”

Deon pondered for a moment when it hit him what that meant, “Where's the boss now?”

“He's in control of the train.”

Deon, involuntarily swallowed spit, at this speed they would get to New York much sooner, all the while the bomb ticking away. He had to do something.

“Okay, I'm gonna talk to the boss about something and get in position.”

As he walked past the masked man, he heard Mariela cry out “The trains been hijacked! The trains been hijacked!”

The masked man muttered. “Oh for fuck sake what now?”

Deon pulled out his pistol now. Putting it to the back of the masked man's head

“Sorry man.” The man started to turn.

BANG, the man dropped to the ground instantly. Deon's ears rang from the shot, the smell of gunpowder filling his nostrils. Unlike Calvin he didn't have a silencer attached.

“What the fuck is going on out there?” The voice said angrily

After his ears stopped ringing Deon answered. “We have a situation out here. I need you to let me in.”

“Not gonna happen, that was a gunshot, you're gonna have to deal with it.”

Deon then heard on the other side of the door what sounded like a struggle. The door suddenly banged loudly, followed by muffled cursing.

“What's going on in there?” Deon didn't get an answer back; he could hear Mariela explaining to the other passengers what was going on.

There was a gunshot on the other side of the door. Deon pulled his pistol to the ready up position. He watched as the door slowly opened revealing the shocked face of a conductor. “He yelled “Don't shoot, don't shoot!” His hands propelling up in the air, pistol clenched tightly pointing upwards.

“Drop the gun!” The man jumped in shock dropping the pistol. “I.. I shot him. The hijacker.” Deon peaked around the conductor and saw the pool of blood leaking from the masked body on the floor.

“Can you stop this train?”

The man stood there shaking. “You.. You're stopping it?”

“Yeah, can you help me?” The conductor stood still, seeming to try and collect himself. “Hey what's your name?”

The man wiped his face, and glanced down at his badge, trembling violently. “Oh gosh, my name is Michael.”

“Okay Michael, can you stop this train? Theres a bomb on board that is going to blow up downtown New York City.”

Michaels eyes went white, “we can't do that. They said that if the train goes slower than 85 miles per hour the train will blow.”

“Jesus!”

Mariela and a few passengers came up. “What's going on?”

Deon explained the breakdown of what was happening. A plan was devised after numerous debates. They would have every passenger get into the last car, and detach it as someone rode the train down to a slow enough speed to try and jump out. Deon decided it would be best for him to do that. Michael would stay also to help with the slowing down portion of the train. Michael and Deon made their way to the connector of the trains, Mariela was in between holding the door open.

“So you know, maybe we can spin this and say that I was a double agent or something right?”

Mariela flashed a brilliant smile, Deon couldn't help but love her dimples. “Yeah, I would put in a good word for you.”

The two held a long stare fuck it.

“You know.. I know we kinda got off on the wrong foot.. Once I clear my name maybe..” Deon stopped himself realizing how dumb of an idea it was to hit on this girl, even though he went from villain to hero. “I just wish I met you some other way.” He ended solemnly.

She looked down at her feet. “Yeah me too. I'll see you after though?”

“Haha, YEP!” Deon unhitched the lever to loosen the grip between the trains. Then the train took a sudden turn forcing Deons hip against the wall, hitting the call button on his walkie.

It rang loudly on repeat. He caught his balance and hit the stop call button, but it continued. He turned to see Michael standing not too far behind, his hand on the other latch. “Hey aren't you supposed to be driving…” Deon paused, realizing that his walkie was one of four and that there was only one way Michael could have had one of those four.

Michael was pulling the latch to tighten it. Deon shoved Michael away from it and then threw a punch cracking him in the mouth. Deons fist throbbed after the impact, but he had to make sure this was done.

He released the other latch and watched as the two parts of the train started to grow apart. He locked eyes with Mariela, her face twisted in horror, shouting something. Deon read her lips. “Behind you.”

Deon turned just in time to grab Michaels pistol, trapping it with his hands. Michael fired off numerous shots around them, then with his free hand punched Deon in the face.

Deon grunted, his back hitting the wall, then he exploded off of it back into trapping the pistol. Michael fired again. Michael yelled at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you pussing out of this now? It was your plan!”

Deon roared forward, head butting Michael in the nose.

He collapsed to his knees weakly. Deon then tossed him out the back of the train watching Michael roll along in awkward painful twisting motions. He went to take a deep breath but found he couldn't.

He looked down to his chest to see two gaping holes in him. “Fffuck.” He said collapsing to the floor, he felt the air on the tips of his fingers from outside the train door.

Deon lifted his head to see the distance had grown maybe 5o yards or so between himself and Mariela. She was still standing there opposite of him, her hands to her face. Even from here he could see she was crying. Deon waved to her to say he's okay. “Get up” He gasped. “Get up, or more people die.”

Deon willed himself to his feet and limped his way to the front of the speeding train. Every step grew in difficulty, he fought both the literal life leaving his body, and the g forces of the train pulling against him.

He entered the driver's cabin. In the window he could see the distant vague shadows of the concrete jungle that was New York City. He looked down to his feet, the pool of blood followed everywhere like a shadow. “Where is the brake, err stop button?” He muttered to no one. Deon saw a big button for emergency stop. “I think this will do it.”

He fell to the floor. His eyes fluttering, his body heavy, the pain now gone, replaced by an unbearable cold. He took a shallow breath and smashed the emergency stop.

The train groaned, its steel revolting in protest against this order. The train didn't want to stop. It was thousands of pounds of iron. Thats stupid Deon thought. As the train slowed more and more, Deon could feel his own heartbeat slowing with it, beating in his ears over all of the noise.

He looked up as Mariela stood before him now, her long curly hair parted perfectly. She came down to his level upon her knees, placing his hand in hers. As the fire of the train exploded toward him at the speed of sound her hair moved as though she were floating in water. Deon held his hand to Marielas dimples. Maybe in another life.

“This just in, this is an evolving story. A Amtrak train en route to New York City has exploded about 30 miles outside the city. Homeland security is indicating that this is being investigated as a terrorist attack, and or a possible dirty bomb. All of which is now more or less confirmed from a released video online that has gone viral. It shows the purported leaders of the hijacking and attempted plot. We are going to show that now. As a discretion this includes violent material.”

On the TV screen a group of armed masked men stood, two were maskless a black man, and white man. Mariela recognized one as Deon and the other as Michael. Deon spoke, his dark eyes filled with rage, his face serious.

“We are The Liberation Syndicate.”

Mariela turned off the television. Her lips coiled tightly to her teeth. She preferred to remember the Deon she saw in the end. She stared at the blackness of the TV screen before her imagining what would've happened if she hadn't got on that train.