The Last Stop
By T.J.Dipple
Published by T.J.Dipple at Smashwords
Copyright 2011 T.J.Dipple
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Mike woke to find the train leaving the station. He had been having a nightmare. So involved had the nightmare been he did not even remember boarding. He looked around wearily to see if anyone had noticed his sudden start. They paid him no heed and he scratched at his chest. He had a vague memory of a pain before he had fallen asleep. Now it was gone.
"Ticket please?"
Mike looked up and saw the collector smiling at him with his hand outstretched.
"Sorry?"
"Your ticket, sir? I thought you were going to sleep for the whole trip."
"Sorry," Mike replied and patted his leather jacket pockets for his ticket. He pulled the stub out and handed it over. "I was very tired."
The man smiled and checked the ticket before stamping it and handing it back. "That's alright sir. You think you're the first person to sleep during a trip? Enjoy the ride."
"Thank you." Mike nodded and put the stamped ticket back in his pocket and looked out of the window. They were still in a tunnel so they would be no point in trying to phone Jane; he barely had a signal at the best of times.
Yawning, Mike gazed down the train. The humming of the train droned through his head making him sleepy. There were a few others on the train; none of them looked especially awake. That was one reason he hated the train, it made him sleepy.
He scraped at his chest absently and looked around as they came to a halt. There was no station, the train just stopped somewhere in the tunnel and the door opened. Four people entered and sat down, three of them immediately fell asleep but the fourth looked around smiling.
"I didn't expect this," he said looking at the train as though he had never seen one before. "This is brilliant!"
"Your ticket, sir?" the same man was back as soon as the people appeared. His voice was sterner than it had when he had spoken to Mike but the passenger did not seem to notice. He handed the ticket over. "Thank you, sir, now take a seat and we can get moving. Only two more stops."
The man took back his ticket and sat down across the aisle from Mike. The others snored softly around him. Mike went back to looking out of the window when the train started moving again. The tunnel went on for miles.
"You alright there, mate?" the new passenger asked him. He sat with his back to the window and his leg stretched out over both seats. "Is it what you expected?"
"What?" Mike asked.
"All this," the man said and pointed to the train. "Is it what you expected? I don't know, I think I thought it would be much...grander."
Mike shrugged. "It's just a train. There's lots like it."
The man looked at him for a moment then went to ask a question. He seemed to think better of it and laughed. He moved closer and held out his hand. "Richard Jennings."
Mike shook his hand. "Mike Daniels," he replied. "Where are you heading?"
Richard shrugged. "Who knows?" he replied. "I'll be going wherever the people upstairs want me to go."
"Your bosses send you on business a lot?"
Richard smiled. "First time."
Mike nodded. In the seat in front of him he heard a small voice call out and the ticket collector returned and smiled warmly. "Yes ma'am?"
"When will we be arriving?" she asked in a voice so fragile and quiet it was like the sound would disappear. "They said it wouldn't be long now. I've been waiting a very long time."
"I assure you ma'am," the conductor said warmly. We have two more stops. At the next one we let off a few people. Then we reach our final destination."
"Oh good!" the lady sounded overjoyed. "My Harold said he'd be meeting me at the station."
"And I'm sure he'll be there. If you need it there's a phone at the front of the train if you want to speak to him and tell him we won't be long."
"Oh, thank you."
"My pleasure, ma'am."
"What's your name? I'll be sure to send a letter to your supervisors."
The man smiled even more warmly. "It's Peter, ma'am."
The conductor walked away.
"I'd hate to be one of the poor souls that gets off at the next stop."
"Why?" Mike asked.
"It's not a good neighbourhood. So, Mike, what brings you here?"
"What?"
"Why are you on the train?"
Mike frowned and thought about the question. "I-I," he stuttered for an answer. "I don't know."
The conductor appeared again and looked at Richard. "Sir, please don't disturb the other passengers," he looked at Mike. "Are you ok sir?"
Mike blinked and his confusion passed. "Yes, fine, thank you. We were just talking."
Peter glanced angrily at Richard and disappeared further down the train again.
"Nice to see people still have their manners!" Richard shouted after the conductor. His eyes were wild and angry now. Mike looked at him. He was not a small man, he was wide and slightly round at the waist. He wore a smart suit that looked expensive and gelled hair that made him look professional and business-like. He was younger than Mike by around ten years.
There was something about his attitude that Mike did not like. A directness that set him on edge. Richard looked at him again.
"Makes you wonder where they find these people doesn't it?"
Mike shrugged uneasily. "He just thinks he's doing his job."
Richard laughed. "He enjoys annoying people. That's all. We're stopping."
"Second to last stop," Mike nodded, though the more he thought about it he wondered where he was going. There was no destination in his memory. Come to think about it, he did not even remember buying a ticket. "Where do you get off?"
"Like I said, hopefully not here."
The train very slowly came to a complete stop and once again Mike was disappointed by the lack of a station. The doors remained closed and the carriage was quiet. The conductor came back. His face was grim.
"Where are we?" Mike asked.
The conductor looked at him and smiled. "Not to worry, sir, we're at the fourth circle. You're going to the last stop."
"What about me?" Richard asked the low growl of his voice made Mike think something was wrong.
"You know the answer to that question, Richard Jennings."
"Here?"
"Yes."
"You're sure?"
"I have never made a mistake."
"What if I don't want to go?"
"You don't have a choice."
Richard's eyes grew dark. "I'm not going."
The conductor stared at him with no sign of irritation or concern. "Yes you are."
Richard stood and took a step towards the conductor. "I'm not going!" he shouted.
Mike could hear a faint groaning coming from the door and he turned around. A figure now stood on the train. A tall figure shrouded in a black cloak.
"What's going on?" Mike asked.
"Nothing to worry about, sir," the conductor said and turned back. "Richard Jennings. You are a greedy soul. Your entire life has been spent taking money from others without care or consequence."
"I don't deserve this!" Richard shouted. The train doors burst open and an icy cold wind bellowed through the carriage, it was so cold that the windows around the figure iced over. Mike stared in horror and pressed his back against the window.
"I told you. I have never made a mistake." The conductor said firmly.
Richard stared at the figure; his face had turned completely white.
"No!" he snarled at the conductor and went to lunge at the conductor. "You can't do this to me!"
The dark figure was at Richard's side, it placed a hand on his shoulder and he stopped. His face was grim and if it was possible, even more pale. The figure moved from Richard's path and he walked towards the doors. Mike stood and tried to see where he was taken but there was just darkness through the window. The doors closed and Mike turned to the conductor.
"Now we can finish our journey."
"Hold on," Mike pleaded. "What's happening? Where am I, and where are we going?"
"No need to worry, sir," the conductor assured him. "Everything is as it is supposed to be. Time was you needed two coins to pay the ferryman. We've come a long way since then. Now all you need is your ticket."
"What?" Mike was more confused than ever. He looked at the other passengers; they were now all awake and looking at him.
"Think about the pain in your chest, sir. Try to remember where you were before you got on the train."
Mike stared at the conductor. The man looked old. Older than he should be. His long brown hair hung messily over his shoulders. His neatly trimmed beard gave his face a sense of wisdom. Mike racked his brain and then it came to him. He remembered the hospital bed. He remembered his wife. He remembered the pain.
"I'm dead." He whispered.
"I'm afraid so, sir," the conductor told him. "Heart attack I'm told."
"Who are you?"
"I hold the keys to heaven, sir. You're on my list."
"Heaven?"
"We only had to stop at the fourth circle for Mr Jennings. Everyone else is going through."
"To the last stop?"
"Yes, to the last stop."
Mike began to stutter. "I-I wasn't ready."
Peter smiled sympathetically. "No one ever is, sir."
Mike nodded. His head spun with disbelief. He felt a warmth surge through him and outside, the train emerged from the tunnel.
As everything went white, Mike smiled and closed his eyes.
End
About The Author
T.J. Dipple was born in Birmingham and lived there for 24 years before moving to Stourbridge with his wife. He graduated from Newman College of Higher Education with a degree in History.
Discover other titles by T.J.Dipple at Smashwords.com
Tales of The Heroic & The Fantastic
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