The man shrugged, putting his hand by his hip and brushing his jacket aside.
“Think this might give you a hint?”
It was a gun.
“You can’t possibly be serious,” I said, trying to laugh but instead just sounding terrified. “You’d shoot me to get me back to my father? I don’t think he’d like it if you laid a finger on me.”
“Oh, not at all,” the man said. “In fact, I was told in no uncertain terms that if I laid a finger on you, I would be decapitated. And trust me, I like life. It’s got a lot of pussy and bikes. I’m in no rush to give it up.”
“So you’re bluffing.”
The man took a puff of his cigarette and coldly looked at me.
“It’s not you I’d shoot.”
I looked around. All innocent people. All of them just wanting to get on a train, head down to New Mexico for who knew how long, all just looking for a quiet, peaceful weekend.
And if I made the wrong choice, any one of them would be killed.
“You’d be dead,” I said. “There are many cops in the area. They’ll find you with ease. And you’ll go to jail for the rest of your life.”
“You say that as if your father has never had to work with some of us on the other side,” the man said. It was chilling how simply he spoke about things that should have been heavy. “Sure, I might go to prison. Sure, I might spend some time behind bars. But, sure, I’d know that your father would take good care of me.”
I bit my lip, trying to decide what to do. I knew my life wasn’t in danger. But was this man, this sociopath, so willing to go to jail that he’d shoot an innocent bystander just to make a point to me? If he really loved “pussy and bikes” as he so claimed, why would he be willing to go to jail?
I looked at the train. I still had what seemed like another forty minutes to go. Perhaps if I could stall long enough, the man would eventually grow tired and move on.
“And why do you do this for my father?” I said.
“Because he takes care of me and I take care of him.”
“What’s your name?”
The man took a puff of his cigarette.
“Not important.”
“How did you find me?”
The man took another puff.
“Not important.”
So that’s how it’s going to be.
And then the train opened its doors. Obviously, it wasn’t leaving yet, but it presented an opportunity to call the man’s bluff.
“Well, Mr. Not Important, it has not been a pleasure,” I said, rising from my seat.
I heard the unmistakable sound of a gun’s safety being clicked off.
“You really want to test a man with no soul?”
Chilling did not describe how those words made me feel. This wasn’t just dark; this was madness. This wasn’t a lack of fear of consequences; this was a complete disregard for consequence, truly not giving a fuck, not giving anything.
“You’re insane.”
A buzzing sound came. The man pulled out his phone, looked down, and smiled. Then he looked up to me.
