literature

COH Story # 21 Empire Express Part 2

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  Misha stopped in front of a gray, metal door. Printed on it in clean, crisp, new lettering was the word "Concourse." Stealth noticed that the door was of case hardened steel and the hinges were reinforced. The lock was a modern, magnetic keypad that was the top of the line.

  Misha simply touched a finger on the lock and the nanites automatically entered the needed twelve digit code. The door swung open and they stepped out into a good sized vestibule. The room was about thirty feet wide. On the wall next to them were three doors labeled "Elevators."  Opposite them was a doorway. The lettering over it "TO BUSES AND TROLLEYS." Beyond the doorway steps lead downward in the darkness. To the left were set of three, large doors of bronze and brass. The windows in them showed the darkness of the night with the lights of the city twinkling in the distance.

  They stepped out into the Grand Concourse. The walls fell back as the ceiling soared high overhead. They were in a vast open space that was at least three hundred feet long and eighty feet wide. The ceiling was over sixty feet high and carried a beautiful mosaic of the night sky, complete with stars and the moon. Underfoot the floor was decorated in intricate mosaics. Everywhere the supers looked was marble and granite.

  In the center of the massive place was a large pillar over ten feet high and made of shining, freshly polished brass. It was crowned on top by a large, illuminated clock. It's black hands were still faithfully ticking out the hours.

  To their left was one corner of the massive hall. Over their heads the lettering " TO STREET & OFFICES," dutifully identified where they had come from.

 The closest end wall was lined with storefronts. Lettering over them announced" TAILOR SHOP, BARBER SHOP, BOOT BLACK," announced the activities that used to take place there. But those days were long gone and now they were simply openings in the walls. Inside their blacked interiors they could make out the vague shape of objects. Ghosts of what had once been.

  The two slowly made their way out into the middle of the concourse and over to the clock. Their footsteps echoed loudly in the vast hall. the sound bouncing around before returning to its creator from an unexpected direction. Misha found himself looking all around at the massive space. "Can you imagine the amount of people who have been through here. All the history it's seen."

  At the far end of the concourse was the opposite end wall. Huddled against the end wall at floor level and running the full width of the room was the ticket booth. It was substantial and was actually a wooden, one story construction, complete with a flat roof.

  On the roof of the ticket counter stood a large signboard watching over the station. It was at least twenty feet wide and ten feet high. Rust, corrosion and dirt covered parts of the sign and a thick layer of dust covered everything. One end rested on the roof of the ticket counter itself. One support having long ago rotted away. Bold lettering in brass announced proudly 'Train Information'. Below that the board was divided into two parts "Arrivals," and "Departures". Beneath those words the board had slots where the old style mechanical flip letters were. When set to announce an arrival or a departure the metal letters would flip over with a loud clack, clack, clack till the right words and times were displayed. Now the board was empty. The slots all set to show blank. Once it had announced the comings and goings of trains headed all over the county. Now it sat empty and abandoned. A sad memorial to bygone days of great, named trains and luxury travel. When getting there WAS often the best part of the trip.

  CLACK

  CLACK

  CLACK

  CLACK

  The sounds echoed loudly and ominously in the vast hall.

  Misha and stealth just froze in place.

  "Tell me I didn't hear that," Misha said slowly.

  Stealth didn't speak but slowly shook his head from side to side.

  Misha took a deep breath and slowly turned in the direction the sound had come from. Almost of their own accord his eyes wandered over to the large signboard. One line of the arrivals board had changed. It read "Empire Express from Boston To New York Arrives :1:35 AM."

  "It's 12:35 now," Stealth said slowly. "What happens in an hour when it arrives?"

  The fox didn't speak but just kept looking at the arrival board.

  It started quietly. At first it was no more than a faint suggestion at the back of their mind. Easily dismissed as their imaginations running wild in the vast, empty old hall. But soon it grew to a faint whisper. Clearly audible but the sounds were too faint to be understood. Gradually it grew to a murmur and individual sounds became distinctly discernible. People talking, arguing, asking, demanding, people walking and shuffling. They found themselves surrounded the sounds of a large crowd but the darkened hall around them was empty. They looked to be alone but their senses and their instincts said they weren't.

  "Do you have today's New York Herald?"

  Misha turned in the direction of the voice. He found himself looking a booth made of fine grained wood and edged in brass. The wood was now covered with grime and layers of dust and dust and the brass was tarnished and corroded to a dull gray. A sign at the top announced proudly "The Union News Company," in gray lettering that might once have been brass. Below the counter were faded posters that advertised products that didn't exist anymore.

  "Yes sir!" A voice said. It seemed to come from behind a counter that hadn't seen a live person in decades. There was the faint rustle of paper.

  "There's plenty of time," A male voice said.

  Misha's sensitive ears located the source and he looked in that direction hoping to see the speaker. But all he saw was empty space. It didn't stop the voice.

  "The train doesn't leave for an hour," the voice said from thin air.

 "What's going on." Stealth whipped his head about looking intently at the area around him. "Why can't we see them?"

  "I don't know!" Misha snapped nervously. The fox had his bow out and an arrow nocked. His ears were laid flat against his head and his tail was tucked up against his body. "I don't know anything about ghosts."

  "GHOSTS?" Stealth snapped. "Who said anything about ghosts?"

  "What else could it be?" Misha countered.

  "Someone trying to scare us," the feline countered.

  "They're doing a good job of it," Misha commented nervously.

   "If it was a live person we should have some sign of them," the nanites interjected. "We've seen no increase in electrical use. And no unexplained energy use of any sort. If this is some elaborate fake then it's a very good one."

  "What is it if not the paranormal or a deliberate fake?" Misha asked.

  "A dimensional or chronological leak through," the microscopic machines offered.  "Similar to the Madrid events of 1985."

  "So we might be seeing events that happened in the past?" Misha asked. "Or something that IS happening in some other dimension?"

  "Yes," the nanites explained. "But the lack of a chronotonal energy wave precludes time travel."

  "We have contacted the Portal Corporation. Dr. Macintyre reports that they have detected no interdimensional activity in our area. She is continuing her scans but the lack of any attendant Webb particles leads her to think it's not interdimensional."

  Stealth suddenly held up his right hand. "Wait! Listen."

  Misha held still and listened but all he heard was silence. "The voices have stopped."

  Why did they stop?" Stealth asked.

  "I don't even know why they started," the fox responded.

  Misha glanced over to the left a moment then turned back to his friend.  He opened his mouth the speak but stopped. Then he turned and looked over to his left again. "What?"

  On the left side of the concourse was a doorway. The corroded brass letters over the doorway read simply "Restaurant."

  Two massive U shaped counters filled the center of the area. Spaced evenly around the counter were seats. The paint on the walls was peeling off and their footsteps crunched on the fallen plaster as they walked.

  Sitting there on the counter was a cup and saucer made of white porcelain. It was filled to the brim with steaming hot coffee.

  Misha's eyes grew wide and he laid back his vulpine ears. "Where did that come from?"

  Stealth shrugged. "I don't know."

  "Is it safe to drink?" Misha asked.

  "One way to find out," Stealth said. The feline picked up the cup and sniffed it. "It looks like coffee and smells like coffee." The feline took a sip of the coffee. His eyes went wide and his tail went rigid. "Wow! That's strong."

  "Testing. Contents are C8H10N4O2. The water content is chemically consistent with this water available in the station," the nanites commented. "Probable source of the coffee is Columbia. No later than three years ago."

    Misha took the cup from his friend and took a good drink. The taste was strong and powerful. "That's good coffee. It is strong. That would put hair on your chest."

  The cheetah morph pulled up his shirt revealing the spotted fur that covered him. "I already have hair on my chest."

  "See! It worked," Misha handed. He handed the cup back to Stealth.

  The feline took it. "You don't want it?"

  "I don't like coffee," Misha said. "I'd prefer some nice hot tea."

  CLINK

  The two froze in their steps. There was silence for a moment.

  Stealth slowly turned around and looked at the counter. "Ah Misha."

  The fox super had his back to the counter. "Don't tell me. There's a cup of tea there."

  "Tea and a buttered roll," Stealth answered. "Toasted roll."

  Misha turned and here indeed on the counter was another cup and saucer. This one was filled with hot tea. Next to that was a plate upon which was a fresh Kaiser roll. Misha sat down and examined the two. The scent of fresh tea fought for attention of Misha's nose with the sweet smell of a toasted roll.

  He looked at it carefully for a minute examining the saucer, cup and the contents of the cup. Misha was looking for even the slightest irregularity but there was none. carefully he picked up the cup and held it to his lips.

  The sharp smell of a half a dozen different types of tea came to his nose. Misha spent a moment savoring the smell of each one and how they all blended together to form a savory aroma. The smell was nice, the taste was even better.

  Analyzing. Tea. Several blends but probable place of origin is India. Also the water used is chemically the same as the local water. This tea is sold locally. You can get it in a dozen different stores within a twenty minute drive of here."

  Slowly Misha reached out to the roll and gingerly took hold of the top. With great care he lifted the top of the mysterious bakery product. It revealed that it had been toasted and the inside surfaces were a golden brown. It was also covered with a liquid that looked like melted butter. He put the bakery lid back into its rightful place. Then he picked up the roll and bite down onto it. The fox chewed for a moment letting the savory taste linger in his mouth.

  "The grain is from Kansas," the nanites commented. "Western Kansas. There is a 87.35% chance from within 100 miles of the town of Tribune. The butter is 98% likely from within 100 miles of Pine River, Wisconsin."

  The feline held the coffee cup up. "These are real. We're not imagining these things." He waved the cup filled hand at the other cup and the plate. "Where did all this come from?"

  "A more accurate question might be how did it get here?" The nanites added.

  Misha finished eating the roll, enjoying the taste. "Ok. How did it get here?"

  "We don't know," the nanites responded. "We were hoping you had some ideas."

    Stealth picked up the plate. It was a really thick and solid piece of porcelain and had some heft to it. "This is heavy duty stuff!"

  "It's commercial grade," the fox explained. "Meant to handle serious wear and tear."

  "Don't bother with a bow and arrow," Stealth joked. "Just throw these at people."

  "Never!" Misha said in mock horror. "These are cool. I know people who collect this stuff."

  Stealth held the plate up in front of his face. "This stuff?"

  "This isn't decorated," Misha explained as he took the plate from his friend. "Some of the china for the railroads was heavily decorated."

  He placed the plate back onto the counter. "It's time we get back to work."

  "We can't just leave without paying," Stealth said.

  "Oh! Good point," Misha said. He fished into his pocket and produced a $5 bill which he placed on the counter. "Thank you and keep the change." The two started walking towards the door.

  KA CHING!

  The two paused for a moment.

  "Was that a cash register I heard?" Stealth asked.

  "Yes," Misha answered calmly.

  "Are we going to investigate it?" The cheetah morph asked.

  "No," Misha answered with a shake of the head.

  "Good."

  There was a distinct chill in the air as the two stepped back into the main concourse. It made Misha ruffle his fur.

  "It got colder in here," Stealth said..

  "Darker too," Misha added.

  The two super heroes stood in the middle of the concourse. For the moment the large hall looked to be empty. There was no one in sight but Misha couldn't help but feel like they were being watched. He scanned the whole hall trying to look into every shadowy nook and dark corner. But all he saw was dark shadows and empty areas. Worse than the emptiness was the silence. The large empty hall was always quiet. A place of soft sounds and quiet noises. Dripping water, the creaks and groans of wood, metal and plaster slowly failing and the wind whispering through broken windows . The type of sounds you'd expect in a place devoid of life. But now the massive place was silent, truly, wholly dead silent. Not a drip, not a creak or a moan. Even the air was dead still.

  "I thought the creepy voices were bad," Misha said slowly. "But this silence is worse."

  "Agreed," Stealth looked around nervously.

  CLACK

  CLACK

  Stealth hissed loudly and Misha uttered a deep, primal growl. Slowly the two turned and looked at the trainboard. It had changed slightly. "Empire Express from Boston To New York Arrives :1:35 AM. Status: Arriving. Track 7."

  "So," the cheetah morph said slowly without taking his eyes off the large board. "What do we do? Do we go to track 1 and see what arrives?"

  The fox morph nodded his head slowly. "Yes we do."

  "Meeting the train sounds like a bad idea," Stealth commented.

  "Not meeting it would be an even worse idea," Misha countered.

  Squeak

  Squeak

  Squeak.

  The two looked in the direction the sound was coming from. They found themselves looking at one of the luggage carts that were scattered all over the station. The massive wood and metal cart was moving across the floor at a slow and stately pace. No one was pushing or pulling it but it was clear the cart was moving with a distinct purpose.

  Both intrigued and frightened the two followed the cart as it made its way across the concourse. The cart swerved to the left as if avoiding some obstacle only it could see. Finally it's slow journey came to a large dark doorway. The corroded lettering "TO BAGGAGE" announced what lay beyond the darkened doorway.

  Once past the doorway they found themselves staring at a pair of glass doors set into the wall. Walking up to the doors they peered into the glass and saw glimpses of items beyond. Shadowy shapes barely glimpsed in the dark. A paper sign taped to the door announced. "Museum closed. Please come again." Another sign announced "Museum hours Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday 10am to 6:30 pm."

  "I see movement inside," Stealth said. The feline hero had his face pressed against the glass.

  Misha peered through the door. "What did you see?"

  The feline shrugged. "It wasn't clear. All I caught was something moving."

  "We've contacted the alarm company and informed that you're conducting a security sweep," the nanites said.

  "They're contacting the police," the nanites added.

  "Contact the police before they contact us," Misha said.

  "And tell them what?" The nanites asked. "You're hunting ghosts?"

  "Put them through to us," Stealth interrupted.

  "This is Police central dispatch," a voice said suddenly in their heads. "This is Phyllis. Who am I speaking to?"

  "This is Stealth and Misha Brightleaf," the feline superhero explained. "We're at the train station."

   "What are you doing there?"

  "We're hunting ghosts," Stealth answered honestly.

  "Enough with the stupid jokes," the woman's voice responded. "What are you doing there?"

  "We're on a mission," Misha added. "We got a tip that there might be a break in at the station. So we headed here to check it out."

  "Is that so?" The woman responded. "I can't take your word on this. We are already dispatching a unit."

  "All right but warn them that two supers are on site," Misha added. "I'm done talking. We've got work to do!" And with that he broke the connection.

  Stealth gave a yip of laughter. "That will slow them down. They'll sent out a SWAT team and that will take time."

  Misha peered closely at the lock and saw something scratched there. "MCM1." He reached into his pocket and produced a ring of keys. The fox started to rifle through keys.

  "Do you have keys to the whole place?" Stealth asked.

  "Yes. The group that owns the place gave them to me," Misha nodded his head. "Didn't I give you a set?"

  Stealth narrowed his eyes and laid his ears back against his head.

  "Oops," the fox said in an embarrassed tone.

  Misha inserted a key into the lock slowly. When it was all the way in he didn't immediately turn the key. Instead he waited, looking and listening for anything unusual or dangerous. Finally he gently turned the key.

  CLICK!  The sound seemed to echo loudly in the station.

  The fox winced noticeably then frozen in place with one hand on the key.

  Stealth looked around nervously. His eyes saw the great open space around them. He saw the inlaid marble floors beneath their feet that still glistened in spite of all the years of hard use. The granite stone walls even covered with dust showed the skill and pride of masons now long dead. The feline's sight went to all the shadows and dark places looking for any sign of trouble. Someone or something that could attack them. A flicker of movement off to right brought his head around looking for danger. But all he saw was darkened shape of a wooden booth set against the wall. There perched on the counter amidst the dust and spider webs was a very large rat. The black rodent stared boldly at him. The creature turned and leapt off the counter and into the darkness behind.

  The ghostly voices had gone and all his ears picked up were the faint sounds of an empty building. The ruffle of old and fading cloth banners and the faint rustling of some small creature hiding amidst the debris and ruin. His sensitive feline nose detected the molder of decay and rot and the musty smell of long abandonment and decay. He also picked the smell of old oil and coal smoke. And over all of those his nose detected a faint smell of many people. Men, women and children. People who had passed through this massive place and were now long gone but their scent remained. A scent so faint as to be more imagined than truly smelled.

  Finally he turned back to his friend and shook his head.

  Misha removed the key from the lock and dropped the ring back into his pocket. He didn't open the door at first but instead the ranger examined carefully the gap between the two doors. Then he ran his eyes over the edges of both doors.

 "Well," The fox stepped back. "I don't see any booby traps or alarm wires."

  Stealth grabbed hold of the handle and pulled the door open.

  A blast of cool air assaulted them as the doors opened. The faint hum of machinery and a soft breeze told of air conditioning. The two animal like supers found themselves standing in a small lobby. Off to their left was a large counter/display case that displayed all manner of books models and trinkets for sale. Hanging on the wall behind the case were posters and tee shirts. A cash register was perched on one end of the counter and taped to it was a sign "Purchase your tickets here." A thin light came through from the hall behind them but it barely illuminated the patch of floor where they stood. All the rest in front of them was in darkness.

  "I'm tired of being in the dark," Stealth walked over to the counter and slipped behind it. Some searching along the wall amidst the shirts and posters earned him what he wanted. There was the soft click of a switch and the lights came on.

  In the past this room had been the baggage claim/drop off area. This was where departing passengers dropped off their luggage before heading off. Or where they went to see if their luggage had indeed followed them to the station or was lost somewhere in the unknown.

  A museum, no matter how small always acquires many things; books, letters, clothing, tools. All manner of items both mundane and unusual and they are all called artifacts. And such items need a place to be displayed. So the Paragon City Railroad Museum (a registered 501(c)(3)  group) had converted the baggage area. Individual displays were scattered about the room in close clusters by subject and each was highlighted by a bright light. The light was kept low in the rest of the room. This was to draw people's attention to the displays. It also helped disguise the fact that the floor needed refinishing and the ceiling was desperately in need of repainting. It turned the room into a maze of cubicles, niches and rooms with shadowy corners and an ocean of darkness interspersed with small islands of light.

  "Oh that's a great help!" Misha commented sarcastically.

  "And I thought the basement was creepy," Stealth muttered.

  "All right," Misha said. "Stay close and we'll sweep the place from here to the other end. Thankfully it's not too big."

  Together the two moved into the museum. They walked past displays telling of the railroad past of the Paragon city and Rhode Island. One display had a model of a old wooden passenger station.
Here is part 2 of the story.
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LeoPanther's avatar
It seems you used an older version of the story here. It has the wrong track number and the double key-ring errors you corrected in the last draft.