The Chemistry of Death

Chapter 27

A heavy weight struck Joe at waist-level. The impact knocked him off his feet and threw him sideways. He landed hard in the protected alcove, his ankle bending sharply beneath him. A furry body pinned him to the ground. Edison.

The train thundered by. Joe saw the face of a man in a suit inside as he tumbled forward. The train car passed in the blink of an eye. Then the next car and the next. The train was slowing, but it would never stop in time.

The high-pitched sound of metal grinding against metal drilled into his head. He screamed to drown it out. With both hands, he reached around and covered Edison’s ears. The dog had saved his life, again. He had driven Joe into the only safe spot in the tunnel, forced him to take cover. He had known what Joe wouldn’t admit, that he wouldn’t have reached her in time. That the train would have cut him down like wheat. As it had probably done to the woman.

Maybe she had left the tracks. Maybe the train had been able to stop in time. The operator had braked to avoid Joe, and maybe that extra time was enough to have saved her life.

As soon as the train had passed, Joe lifted Edison off him.

“Good dog,” he said.

Edison licked his face.

Joe hauled himself to his feet and limped after the slowing train. His foot throbbed, and blood trickled from his nose. He’d landed hard, but there was nothing wrong with him that wouldn’t heal.

The train jerked to a stop. Its taillights bathed the tunnel in an eerie red light.

Edison’s mouth moved, but Joe couldn’t hear the bark. He heard only the ringing in his ears. He hoped that Edison’s hearing hadn’t been affected. The dog shouldn’t have to suffer because the master was a fool.

Joe crossed behind the train, away from the third rail, and turned sideways. If he flattened himself against the wall, he fit between the edge of the train and the tunnel wall. He sidestepped as quickly as he could, pain driving up from his injured foot each time it came down on a train tie. Just a sprain, he told himself, but he could tell it was something worse.

Light from the cars above fell across his face. Through one window, Joe saw a man in a suit with a cut on his forehead. Blood poured down the side of his face. He leaned against the window as a gray-haired woman in a housecoat lifted what looked like a tea towel up to his wound. Joe passed their car and moved to the next, hurrying toward the front of the train.

Headlights illuminated the train operator. Joe recognized his profile. He was a new driver, and they sometimes had coffee together after his shifts.

“Martel,” Joe called.

Martel turned to look at him. Shaggy black hair framed a shocked face.

Joe stumbled over. His ears still rang.

“I tried to stop, Joe,” Martel said. “You heard the brakes.”

“I know you did.”

Joe looked down at the woman he had failed to save. Her arms were thrown into unnatural angles, the bones clearly broken between the wrist and the elbow. Her legs were under the train. Joe imagined they looked worse than her arms. Blood leaked out of her mouth and drenched the golden hair that lay across the dirty ties.

“Stay with her,” Martel said. “I have to call it in.”

Joe knelt beside the woman. He was afraid to touch her, couldn’t imagine where he could touch her that wouldn’t hurt her. Her chest rose slowly. She was still alive.

He took her hand gently in his. Her hand was wet with blood, and a palm tree was tattooed on the inside of her wrist, like Maeve’s dragonfly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I came too late.”

Her eyes searched for his. Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes and ran down her temples. Joe wiped the tears away with his thumb and laid his the back of his hand against her cold cheek.

Her garish red lips twitched as if she wanted to say something.

He leaned down toward her pale face.

“Remember me,” she said.

“I will,” he said. “Always.”

The edges of her lips rose in the tiniest of smiles, then her face went limp.

Her breath rattled out, and her chest didn’t rise again. Her eyes stared sightlessly at his.

She was gone.