Dark Voices

PART ONE

In a trance, drunk in lust, I slowly remove her seamless silk panties. Finally, it’s the moment when she presses herself upon me. How I long to breathe them in every time. Each one having distinct aromas of fruit, with always a touch of lavender. I’m intoxicated by their pheromones. Another midnight appointment with Violet off the books, each time investing intently into her company. She reached back, moaning subtly while unhooking her bra. In the next gasp she whipped her head forward to headbutt me. That’s the last thing I can remember!

I awakened feeling concussed and lethargic. Why is it so windy, I was thinking to myself, struggling to sit upright. I closed the metal framed window beside me in an attempt to catch my breath and gather myself. As my blurry vision came into true focus, the first thing I noticed was how fast I was moving.

Holy shit! I’m on a damn train right now.

I attempted to scan my surroundings but I was drowning in my thoughts trying to recap last night’s memories. The only drink I had was my usual Old Fashioned.

How could everything be so wrong right now?

The unsettling movements from the tracks were very jarring. I still couldn’t believe what was happening, but I knew I was in the thick of it. I soon came to realize that I was sitting in the conductor’s quarters; his body was bloodied badly, hunched over, and lifeless.

My chest was already unbearably tight and I was feeling confusion in an unimaginable way. I looked at my watch to notice that the entire sleeve of my left arm was covered in blood. Bitter odors of iron radiated around me. I had looked further down at my feet to see red pools that tracked from the body back to my direction.

PART TWO

What the fuck? WHO the fuck? I need to get out of here! I need to get help, someone is clearly setting me up! What tree hugger did I piss off now? Someone really took it over the top with this stunt. They obviously didn’t want to kill me, just ruin me, which is worse. Social media will have a field day if I get caught up in this. The nation won’t let me come back from it. I’m firing my security detail; those disposal jar heads come a dime a dozen anyway. Where’s my damn phone? I need to call my clean up crew. Those men are WAY more reliable.

As I stood in search of my phone, I slipped subtly from the blood residue remaining on my Riviera’s.

Egregious.

I kicked off pieces of plasma and I heard a ping. It was that obnoxious radar sound that the iPhone makes. P - I - N - G! P - I - N - G! The sound was coming from the corpse. After retrieving the phone from the body and feeling relieved for the silence, I noticed the man had a family portrait as his lock screen. Immediate guilt sunk in, but only momentarily.

Another poor bastard caught in the crosshairs of my ambition. He certainly wasn’t the first but I sure was hoping the last casualty would’ve been final. One less voter, I guess.

The radar ringing sound echoed again. I looked at the screen to view the incoming call. Adding to my confusion, I saw MY OWN personal cell number coming from the CONDUCTOR’S phone!

This is new. How’d they pull this shit off?

PART THREE

“Congressman Barton,” said a Darth Vader sounding voice as I answered the phone. “How many more families must be ruined? How many more mass shootings will it take? It is because of YOU that our children have been taken. Now your own laws will be your downfall.”

Click. The phone went silent.

At that moment, I zoned out becoming numb until a bump on the railway snapped me out of it again.

Shit. Focus!

It wasn’t a shocker to get a death threat here and there, but this was something different. Someone had put a lot of thought into this. The cause and effect of my actions has always been an afterthought. I had never stopped to think of just how much chaos I could create.

C’mon. Think!

I scanned every cabinet and storage cubby in my vicinity to finally find an ensemble with the perfect jacket for me. While I quickly changed out of my crimson stained clothing, I gagged at the vigorous steely mineral stench that extruded from my pores and wafted directly to my nostrils.

I need some salt or some damn coke. Fuck, focus!

I NEED to get to the next train car!

PART FOUR

The phone rang once again with MY number calling. I answered, but without giving them a chance to speak, I demanded, enraged, “Who is this? Who do you work for, and how much is this gonna fucking cost me?”

The distorted Vaderish voice replied, “We are an organization for people without voices. The facts are - the evidence is against you. All the profits you’ve gained in your campaign through corruption will be exposed. Your foundation of lies will reign down on you just as the evil you enforce onto innocent Americans. But more importantly your presidential campaign and crooked political standing will finally come to an end. Justice has been long overdue.”

“What?” I said, half heartedly baffled. “There’s no fucking way I’m going down for this. I have someone who can account for me last night and no one would believe I did this shit anyways! I obviously was violently drugged and dragged here against my will.”

“You mean your midnight rendezvous…?” The voice changer paused. “You know so little of the people you hurt. You’re even more distracted when they’re right on top of you.”

Cutting the mystery voice off, I said, “Excuse me, I’m a respected government official. I'm the next leader of the greatest country in the world. For God’s sake, I’ve been to war, I fought for your freedom! There is no way I’m getting framed for this scandal!”

“Barton! Nothing you say or do will save you. You now find yourself in the middle of a crime scene. There is a murder weapon hidden somewhere on this train with your prints on it. The American people WILL believe this story. One way. Or another.”

Click. The phone disconnected again.

PART FIVE

Son of a bitch.

It was at that moment I realized I didn’t have control over the situation.

I didn’t even have control over the train.

What the hell? Am I in a James Patterson novel?

In an effort to not cause a display, finally came the moment when I very nonchalantly, proceeded to change rail cars. I was relieved to find only three of us on the cart; myself, one woman and one child. I casually nodded my head while smiling at the citizen, and eagerly shuffled my way past her. That was the first time I had ever wished someone would NOT recognize me.

We looked away after locking eyes. But, of course, she did a double take back to me and cleared her throat. People often did this before approaching me. With a slight rasp, she scattered on with a hard Latin accent, “is that you, Congressman Barton? I’m so glad we’re running into each other like this."

I fraudulently poised myself and exchanged my normal gimmick, “I apologize ma’am, what's your name again? You do look familiar. I’m sure I'd remember such a splendid young woman as yourself with the cutest little daughter.”

The woman’s young daughter was eyeballing me up and down; sizing me up in an unimpressed manner. I never had kids of my own because interacting with children always made me feel uneasy. Like a little protective pitbull, I felt her gaze piercing through me from my peripheral as I bantered.

The woman responded, oblivious to my apprehension, saying, “I'm Maribel and this is my daughter Claudia. We’ve met before. My restaurant usually handles your catering. There was one time when you said that my food reminded you of your favorite nanny growing up, Rosa. And I’d always remembered that because…”

I finished her sentence, “YOUR grandmother was named Rosa, too. Of course! My apologies for not recognizing you right away. I remember now. You run the little Puerto Rican place on 18th & Bryant St. Such amazing food there!”

She forwardly replied, “Sorry to be so blunt, but I haven’t received any of your office’s regular orders recently. What's going on with that?”

In an attempt to gain control of the conversation and move on, I said, “Listen, thank you for your support, but I’m not the one who handles that particular stuff. I’ll tell ya what though, I’ll look into it for you! Now, I hate to cut this short but I seem to have misplaced my phone and I’m expecting a very important call. Please, if you’ll excuse me, ladies. Take care.”

As I walked away, young Claudia and I made eye contact. I followed her line of sight which moved directly from my face down to a drop of blood on my shoe. Maribel’s voice traveled along behind me. I could hear her talking to her daughter while I reached for the worn metal latch to open the door to the next train car.

Still feeling the heat from Claudia’s gaze in the background, I heard her say, “Mama, why did that man have ketchup on his shoes?”

Their voices trailed off as the clasp to the door shut behind me. I wasn't overly worried about what would come of that interaction; people like that can be easily muzzled with money.

PART SIX

With my chin down, almost in shame, I quietly walked into yet another train car. This cab seemed darker, and more runned down. There was heavy graffiti all throughout the interior.

To my dismay, there were even MORE pawns on board; one of them being a uniformed police officer asleep, with his arms crossed and cap covering his face. A few rows behind the officer, there was an elderly man dozing off with a large Rottweiler beside him; it had been practically laying across the aisle. I wondered if any of these people could be in on this sick and twisted game. Who else could be out there to get me?

Passing the dog and the old man, first, the Rott sniffed me as I stepped over it to walk by. Then, I swiftly slithered past the sleeping officer. Feeling relieved at that moment, I was finally in the clear to make my way to the other end of this nightmare. Suddenly, the Rott grumbled in a bark, and dashed straight over to me. It bumped into the sleeping officer on its way, waking him up.

Fuck!

The cop jumped out of his seat. His first instinct was to look straight out the window. His face lit up with shock, as he shouted, “The hell is going on here? I missed my stop! I can’t believe I fell asleep. WHERE ARE WE?!” He grabbed his hat and small carry on while continuing to mumble to himself in disappointment.

The old man was now also startled out of his chair. He then shouted for his dog, “CHEWIE!!! GET BACK HERE!”

“Keep that bear on a leash, ol’ timer, that mutt’s bigger than you! You can’t be out here endangering people like this nice traveling fellow,” said the distracted officer referring to me. He stared at me with his detective-like eyes and recognized me. “Congressman Barton…? What are you doing out here in northern Virginia, sir?”

I had sweatily worked through my rehearsed gimmick lines, but he cut me off, and rambled on worriedly, “it's my day off and I have to be at a funeral for an old colleague.” He looked out the window again to say, “Oh, here we go! I can see where we are now. There is a stop coming up soon that I can get off at and double back.”

The officer walked over to the exit in wait. But as he went on about the police funeral he was to attend, the approaching stop came and went. The train had passed a crowd of people who were waiting on a proper platform. They all just stood there with perplexed expressions.

But no one would be as confused as this cop if he were to uncover what was really happening. He ended his chit chat with me hastily, and with analytic eyes, he said, "Why the hell did we just blow past that stop? I need to go find the conductor."

To Be Continued…