Train B-7

“Her face won’t leave my fucking head. It’s gnawing through my brain like a fucking termite!” Morrison screamed right by Tommy’s ears so loud it could be heard over the cries of the police sirens and the screeching of steel wheels.

Thomas responds, “I know what you're thinking. You think you can just jump on that train, and it will all go the fuck away! Huh! That it?” He yells and reaches for Morrison’s head. He grabs a hold of his skull and pushes his palms hard against his ears. “Listen to me More! More, I don’t want to die on the run! Not here man. Not now, Morrison. We can still get away, it doesn’t have to end dammit!”

Thomas takes a step away from the tracks.

But then Morrison takes a step closer.

Meantime, two Davenport police cruisers skid to a stop in the stations parking area. Four cops come dashing out, three males and one blonde-haired female. The heavyset one of the cop quartet wobbles over while spitting words into his radio fumbling to press the Mic button.

Back by the tracks, the crazy show is about to come to an end.





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