Train Station

He would hurry across the track and pull up the branches where he knew the fence was broken. Once revealed Jon and the others would waste no time. Nathan stood holding up the brush as the others crawled through one by one. The space was big enough for a young adult of fair weight so they would easily crawl through, though the curling wires sometimes caught onto loose bits of clothing. When one of them got to the other side they would pull the next in, hurrying the process as the train would finally vanish, out of sight, into the distance. Nathan could feel the tension as he could neither hear, nor see Bo through the heavy rain and growing fogs. He wasn’t sure how close the man was getting or how fast or if he was even armed. As soon as Jon went through Nathan ducked down, but he became caught as one of the wires snagged his earphone cords, tangling him. The young man would struggle, unwilling to abandon his device so easily, but the others would quickly pull them from his ears, and unplug it from his player, pulling him up and away from the fence. They would all buckle down and quietly wait.

They weren’t sure if Bo had seen them, but they wouldn’t be able to get away easily as there was nothing but long, empty road for miles between them and the next house. The flooded streets only made crossing the streets harder as this side of the tracks was quite known for their sinkholes and loose sewer grates. Nikki shifted her weight, carefully leaning so she could peer through the bushes to try and find the man. She could see Bo standing on the platform. He seemed to be looking for them, though she was hopeful he had not recognized them outside of the shop. As the man turned around to look across the tracks she could see in his hand was a cleaver, affirming her previous concern. After what felt like hours Bo would turn to step off the platform and head back down the hill.

“He’s leaving...“ Nikki whispered as the rains, thankfully, covered up any excess noise.

They would wait a few more minutes and start off, one by one, up Hollow Road towards the mortuary. “Kat,” Jon called as they marched along through the rains. “Are you sure you saw your dad’s cruiser?” He couldn’t see much in front of him as the fog had gotten deep.

Kaitlynn led the way as she was used to coming to this part of town. “Yeah.” She returned, tucking under her umbrella with Nikki. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure they went to check on Morty, remember the last time the storms got this bad?”

Nathan looked up, fingers rubbing into his ears, unused to them being free of his earpieces. “You mean when the bodies started floating down the river? Everyone thought the water was contaminated.” It wasn’t and that was the important part.

Everything down the roadways was swallowed by fog. In towns like this there always seemed huge stretches of road or land that was uninhabited. It was hard to tell if such was due to the lack of funds the smaller township had access to or zoning issues. It wasn't uncommon for a lot of the land to fall beneath the water table, making it unsafe to build businesses on or homes and the rest was just no good for farmland as the soil was mostly clay. It was why many of the farms were situated across the bridge or high up the mountains. There was one construction site between the tracks and the old mortuary. This side of town was considered poorer, so many of the poorer families lived here. There was a trailer park just east of Hollow Road and south of that, the self-named, barrio rose up from the cheap land. Many immigrants lived here, but a few of the poorer black residents did as well. The trailer park and barrio were divided by an invisible line that cut across the strip of unfinished highway that ended dead at the eastern swath of mountains after funding ran dry for that sector. The highway was to be connected to the main stretch making it easier to get into the city.

The city council said there were problems with getting the machinery needed to blast holes through the mountains. But members of the barrio and trailer park saw it as just another barrier that the tracks put between them and the rest of Middletown. Some called this side of the tracks Outertown. While hardly poetic the distinction found its way into official records, as it was recognized as its own parish ten years ago. They even had their own zip code, which led to the area earning its own Sheriff’s department. All and all Outertown, while part of Middletown, was recognized by residents as separate.

The group walked up Hollow Road, but the road itself stretched over two hundred miles, which was a grueling walk in heavy fog and flooded roads. There were no sidewalks to speak of, so they were forced to tread along the side of the road which was thick with mud and stone. Trucks occasionally rode by, high beams barely cutting through the dense fog. Most of them seemed to be coming from the direction of the trailer park, down Furlough. Eventually they came to a four-way. All they needed to do was cross and continue a few more miles to arrive at the mortuary, but they had to cross Furlough Street. East along Furlough one would eventually get to the Furlough Trainyard where the local train cars were parked during maintenance. It was a seedy area known to handle a lot of police activity and with the sheriff stations busy handling the flood, it was definitely not a safe neighborhood to wander around. There was a large park and ride to the west, but the lot was empty and many of the cars could be seen up to their doors with water. There was going to be a lot of damage after everything receded. West Station allowed many of the Outertown residents way into the city, but during winter the tracks often became frozen, forcing them to ride from Mercy Station, which was much farther and risked their cars getting towed as the Central Parking lots closed at midnight. It was one of the situations being fought over in city hall rather than reworking the land near the Mortuary.