Chapter 5 - THE RED COAT
The jolt of the moving train threw Lena hard against the wooden floorboards.
Matteo caught his balance, immediately lunging for the sliding iron door. He slammed his shoulder against it, but the heavy exterior bolt held fast.
“It’s locked from the outside!” Matteo shouted over the grinding screech of the steel wheels.
The train was picking up speed rapidly, the rhythmic clack-clack of the tracks echoing loudly inside the cavernous cargo car.
Lena scrambled to her feet in the pitch black, her hands blindly searching the floor.
“Where is he?” she panicked. “Where’s the boy?”
“I’m here,” a small, trembling voice said from the corner.
Matteo pulled a small penlight from his jacket and clicked it on. The narrow beam cut through the dark, illuminating the terrified ten-year-old boy huddled against the corrugated steel wall. He was still wearing the oversized red wool coat.
Lena rushed over and knelt beside him, keeping her voice as soft and steady as she could.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. We aren't going to hurt you,” she promised. “What’s your name?”
“Leo,” the boy whispered, pulling the red coat tighter around himself.
“Leo, why are you wearing this coat? Where did you get it?”
“The scary man gave it to me,” Leo stammered, tears tracking through the dirt on his cheeks. “He took me from the group home yesterday. He told me to sit here and cry, and if I did a good job, he wouldn't hurt the little girl.”
Lena’s heart stopped.
“The little girl? Was she here? Did she have dark curly hair?”
Leo nodded fast. “Yes. She was crying a lot. She had a stuffed bunny.”
“Where is she now, Leo?” Matteo demanded, stepping closer, the penlight casting harsh shadows on his face. “Where did they take her?”
“Back to the tower,” Leo said. “The man with the fancy suit... he said he was going to wait for you to get on the train, and then he was taking the little girl to the airstrip.”
Matteo swore violently and punched the steel wall of the train car. The sound cracked like a gunshot. Leo flinched.
“Matteo, stop, you’re scaring him!” Lena scolded.
She turned back to Leo. “It’s okay, Leo. You’re safe with us.”
She looked up at her husband. “He tricked us. Vincent never intended to trade. He wanted us on this train so he could fly her out of the city without us following him.”
“This train is heading south toward the state line,” Matteo said, pacing the length of the car like a caged animal. “Once we cross the border, Vincent’s men will decouple this car and dump it in a ravine. He’s burying us alive.”
Lena touched the gold locket at her throat.
She’s at the tower.
Her daughter was miles behind them now, standing in a switching tower, holding a stuffed rabbit, waiting for a mother who had just walked into a trap.
“No,” Lena said. Her voice was terrifyingly calm.
She stood up.
“We are not dying in a box, Matteo. And Vincent is not taking my daughter.”
Matteo looked at her. “Lena, the door is bolted from the outside. We’re moving at forty miles an hour.”
Lena walked over to the wooden crate Leo had been sitting on.
“You said this train is heading to the state line,” Lena said, kicking the crate over. “Where does it stop next?”
“It doesn't,” Matteo said. “It’s a direct freight line. The only way to stop it is from the locomotive in the front.”
“Then we get to the front.”
Lena picked up a heavy, rusted iron spike that had fallen out of the broken crate. She walked to the back of the cargo car and looked at the small, square ventilation grate set high up near the ceiling.
“Boost me up,” she said.
Matteo stared at her in awe. He had married a waitress to escape his life. He was just realizing he had married a woman built for it.
He laced his fingers together to form a step. Lena stepped into his hands, and he hoisted her up.
She swung the iron spike with all her strength, smashing the rusted bolts holding the ventilation grate in place. On the third strike, the grate gave way, tumbling out into the rainy night.
A blast of freezing, wet air rushed into the car.
“I can fit through,” Lena shouted over the wind. “I’ll climb to the roof and pull the external bolt on the door!”
“Are you insane?” Matteo yelled. “It’s pouring rain! The roof is slick metal, Lena, you’ll slip and fall under the wheels!”
“Then you better hold my ankles tight!” she snapped back.
She pulled herself up into the small square opening, her shoulders scraping against the jagged metal. The wind immediately whipped her wet hair across her face, blinding her.
She wriggled her torso out into the storm, lying flat on her stomach on the roof of the train car. The metal was freezing and slick with oil and rain.
“I’m out!” she screamed down into the car.
She reached down over the side of the train, feeling blindly for the heavy iron bolt holding the sliding door shut.
Her fingers brushed cold steel. She gripped the handle of the bolt.
It wouldn't budge. Rusted solid.
“It’s stuck!” she yelled.
Suddenly, a blinding beam of light hit her in the face.
Lena squinted against the glare.
Standing on the roof of the train car directly behind them was one of Vincent’s men. He was holding a high-powered flashlight in one hand and a suppressed submachine gun in the other.
He raised the gun, aiming it directly at Lena’s head.
Lena froze. She had no cover. No weapon.
Crack.
The man’s flashlight shattered. He screamed, dropping the gun and clutching his shoulder as he fell backward, tumbling off the side of the speeding train into the darkness.
Lena gasped, looking down into the train car.
Through the small grate, Matteo was holding his .38 revolver, smoke curling from the barrel. He had shot the man over Lena’s shoulder, entirely blind, tracking the target solely by the glare of the flashlight.
“Try the bolt again!” Matteo roared.
Lena gripped the iron handle with both hands. She thought of Sofia. She thought of the six years stolen from her.
With a guttural scream of pure rage, she yanked upward.
The rust cracked. The bolt slid free.
The heavy iron door immediately flew open on its tracks, slamming backward with a deafening crash.
Matteo reached up through the grate, grabbed Lena’s waist, and hauled her back down into the car.
They lay on the wooden floor, gasping for breath as the rain blew in through the open doorway.
Matteo sat up and looked out at the passing landscape.
“We have to jump,” Matteo said. “If we wait until the state line, Vincent will be airborne.”
Lena looked at Leo, who was crying silently in the corner.
She walked over, unbuttoned the red wool coat, and wrapped it securely around the boy.
“Come here, Leo,” Lena said, pulling him into her arms.
She looked at Matteo. “He jumps with us.”
Matteo nodded. He holstered his gun and walked to the open door.
“There’s a river bend coming up in two miles,” Matteo shouted over the roar of the tracks. “The train slows down to take the curve. We jump into the water. It’ll be deep enough to break the fall.”
He grabbed Lena’s hand. Lena held Leo tightly against her chest.
They stood at the edge of the open doorway, the dark, rushing water of the river visible below the tracks.
“On three!” Matteo yelled. “One! Two—”
Matteo’s phone rang.
It was a sharp, piercing electronic chirp that cut through the noise of the train.
Matteo froze. He reached into his pocket and answered it, putting it on speaker.
“Jumping into the river won't save her, Matteo,” a voice said.
But it wasn't Vincent.
The voice was older, strained, and filled with pain.
“Elias?” Matteo shouted into the phone.
“He’s not taking her to the airstrip, Matteo,” the old priest coughed, sounding like he was bleeding out. “The kid was a lie. A diversion. Vincent isn't trying to leave the city.”
“Where is he?!” Lena screamed into the phone.
May you like
“He took her to the diner, Lena,” Elias whispered. “Route 17. Where it all started.”
Before Elias could say another word, a gunshot rang out over the phone, and the line went dead.
