On the Fly (Rail Riders Book 4), page 1
On The Fly
Rail Riders
Nicky James
On The Fly
Copyright © 2022 by Nicky James
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover Artist:
Nicky James
Editing:
Susie Selva
LesCourt Author Services
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without the written permission of the author.
Contents
Dedication
Freight-hopping Terms
1. Willow
2. Billie
3. Willow
4. Willow
5. Billie
6. Willow
7. Billie
8. Willow
9. Billie
10. Willow
11. Billie
12. Willow
13. Billie
14. Willow
15. Billie
16. Willow
17. Billie
18. Willow
19. Billie
20. Billie
21. Willow
22. Willow
Acknowledgments
Also By Nicky James
About Author
This book is for you. Yes, you, the person reading this dedication. I officially bestow upon you the title of Rail Rider. The fact that you have read all the way to the final book in the series means the world to me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Keep the adventurer in you alive. Stay safe, and let’s catch out one last time!
Freight-hopping Terms
Catching Out – Leaving the city via freight train
On the fly – Catching a freight train while it’s moving
Bulls – Railyard police (they have the power to arrest)
Greenhorn (or green) – A newbie rider
Slack Tension - Slack can build between the “knuckles” (joints) of each train car due to changes of speed. This results in sudden “pops” or violent jerks, often throwing or killing riders. Mostly happens during starting and stopping.
Riding suicide – Standing or balancing in a spot on a moving freight train where there is no solid ground between you and the tracks below.
Coupling/uncoupling – putting train cars together or taking them apart.
Boxcar - Enclosed freight car, typically with sliding doors on the sides that are not usually unlocked. Very ideal for riding inside (if you can get in); not equipped with a low-hanging ladder, which makes them difficult to jump if the train is moving.
Grainers - Type of car with a slight overhang. Good for riding and hiding.
Stackers/Intermodal Stackers - Cargo containers. Generally going long distances. At the end of each container are wells (not always usable). Can be single or stacked two high. Double stackers can sometimes provide an overhang for protection from the weather. Access to inside is usually unavailable (like boxcars) but on occasion an open door can be found. They are located on the ends.
Gondola - Lowest priority freight car usually filled with junk (bulk materials, scrap metal, logs, lumber, steel, sand, copper, iron ore, wood chips.) Like a big dumpster with no lid. Exposed to weather and generally aren’t going far and can be left in remote areas. Not ideal.
Piggyback Car - A flatbed train car that is carrying a semi trailer.
Chapter one
Willow
Everything was changing.
As I sat quietly, listening to the bluster of overlapping conversations, I couldn’t ignore the suffocating weight of sorrow filling my chest. It pressed against my lungs, impeding my ability to breathe. It crowded my stomach, evoking nausea. It squeezed my heart, making me want to cry.
I wouldn’t cry, though. Crying was not something I did often. Not if I could help it.
Guarding my emotions against the world was a trick I’d learned long ago. Emotions made you vulnerable. Weak. Growing up with four older brothers, weakness wasn’t an option. Weakness made me a target. It got me teased and beat up. I’d learned quickly how to be anything but weak.
Not that a single person in this room would judge me if I cried, but they would ask questions, and I didn’t know if I could explain the imbalance inside me. A piece was missing, and I didn’t know how to fill it.
I glanced around the full room and took in all the smiling faces, bright eyes, and joy. I listened to the bubbly voices as everyone talked at once, eager to be heard. We hadn’t been together like this for a couple of months. The energy in the room vibrated with our reunion. I should have been equally engaged, equally excited. I should have felt happy, but I didn’t.
I felt emptier than ever.
My friends, the self-made family I’d grown and nurtured over the past several years, were all looking to the future.
And I couldn’t stop looking back.
For years, I’d been chasing an unachievable dream. What was funny was that it wasn’t my dream to chase. I didn’t want it, but I did it anyhow. I couldn’t stop. The unquenchable thirst for answers, the hunger, the undeniable yearning to recreate the past went beyond my ability to explain. It was rooted deep in my core. It was imprinted in my DNA—perhaps literally.
A hollow ache pulsed deep in my secret heart. I would never stop fighting the fight. If life had taught me anything, it was to never give up.
Some days, I didn’t know why I cared so much. It wasn’t like I could change the past.
The voracious longing wasn’t something I’d shared with anyone in the room. It had always been my private Achilles heel. The gang and I had traveled together for years, but they were oblivious. Killian didn’t know, or Tyler, and definitely not Dodger—three guys who were more like brothers to me than the four who shared my blood. Their significant others didn’t know either.
Only one person knew how profoundly I wanted—needed—to fulfill this one life-sucking goal. Only one person was privy to the madness that had taken over my being.
My childhood best friend. Billie.
And she didn’t support it, or rather, she didn’t understand it.
If Billie had her way, I’d quit this futile task and stay in Toronto with her.
Of course, if Billie had her way, my life would be very different.
Dodger caught my eye, a dip in his brow marking his concern. He knew something was wrong. I looked away, focusing intently on his new beau as Brady explained about their summertime adventure and how they’d finally gotten the authorities on board, hunting the serial killer known only as Fish. Fish who had targeted lone riders across the country for years. In many ways, Dodger and Brady were two peas in a pod as the idiom claimed. Both of them were passionate about proving their theory.
They’d succeeded. I’d never seen Dodger smile like he did when he looked at Brady. It looked good on him. He lit up the room with that smile. His love shone. Who’d have thought?
Killian sensed my mood was off as well. I’d planted myself on the ground, resting my head on his shoulder. He squirmed, rubbed his nose against the top of my head, then bent to whisper, “What’s up, chica?”
“Nothing.”
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? You seem… I don’t know… off.”
I subtly knuckle-punched him in the upper thigh—playfully, of course—making him gasp then groan. “I said I’m fine, doofus. Now shut up. Brady’s talking.”
“Assault,” Killian whimpered, rubbing his thigh. “Ow. Did you guys see that? She’s abusing me.”
Leo, who sat on Killian’s other side, put his hand over Killian’s mouth. “Quiet. You’re being rude.”
Killian, being the idiot he was, continued to try to explain what had happened through Leo’s fingers. I swore having a boyfriend had done something to him. He’d always been easygoing, but there was freedom on his face that hadn’t been there before.
Contentment. He, too, radiated joy.
Tyler wore a similar expression, and it had everything to do with the man sitting beside him. Elian, or as Dodger liked to call him, Silent Bob. Until Elian had come back into the picture, Tyler had always seemed half-present, like there was a huge chunk of him missing. I had sympathized.
There was a huge chunk of me missing too.
But not anymore. With Elian at his side, Tyler was whole. Complete.
Happy.
I cautiously glanced at Dodger again, who sat beside Brady on the couch, one arm casually draped over Brady’s shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. A spark of cosmic energy radiated between them.
My eyes stung, and as though I was sending out some kind of beacon, Dodger glanced my way. Our gazes clashed, and I looked away before he could read the expression on my face. I was certain my mask of indifference was slipping, and if anyone could see through me, it was Dodger.
Brady was telling us about his upcoming interview with the RCMP in British Columbia. He and Dodger were heading there in a few days—via airplane, not freight. By the sound of it, if all went according to plan, they would be relocating permanently.
Dodger was done riding. I never thought I’d see the day.
Killian had started college, planting roots in Montreal with Leo, who held a prestigious, albeit remote, job
Tyler and Elian had made plans to stay in Montreal for the winter, which was a big step for both of them. When the two people in the group who’d been the most transient for years were cutting back, I knew things were changing.
Elian was in therapy, so their travels were mostly limited to a few trips back and forth to Winnipeg to meet with his doctor. Otherwise, they were working all winter, Elian at a library, and Tyler at McDonald’s. They were taking one final hurrah trip before the snow fell to one of their special spots they called the crossing. It was a stone’s throw from Saskatoon.
I planned to leave with them at the end of next week. Ideally, I’d have preferred to stop in Toronto to see Billie before I headed down the coast to LA for the winter, but since the rail lines weren’t safe—active serial killer and all—I needed to stick to Tyler and Elian’s schedule and ride with them for as long as I could.
However, I was running into an issue finding someone to journey with me for the second leg of the trip. I’d been all over the forums, making inquiries, but no one was planning to trek down the coast any time soon. At least no one who didn’t creep me out and set off alarm bells. The community had more than a few sketchy members. Being one of the rare female riders meant I was constantly fielding messages from slimy men who didn’t even have enough intelligence to filter their raunchy comments.
My phone buzzed. I slipped it from my pocket, checking to see who it was from, hoping it would be a positive response to the riding request I’d posted earlier.
It was Billie.
Billie: Call me.
Billie was never one to muddle words. Everything was simple and to the point.
Killian and Leo had fallen into some tangled mess of cuddling while simultaneously annoying each other as Dodger and Brady continued to regale us about their summertime adventure across the country. They were awfully snuggly on the couch, leaning into each other, not so subtly touching and sharing secret smiles.
Elian and Tyler were engaged in the conversation, asking questions and inquiring what the authorities were doing about the killer at large. For once, Dodger wasn’t staring a hole through me in his quest to read my mind.
I managed to slip down the hall and into the spare bedroom where Tyler and Elian slept. The small apartment would be crowded now that Brady and Dodger had joined us for a few nights, but it wasn’t anything we weren’t used to.
I closed the door behind me and scanned the room. There was an unmade double bed under the window. The sheets and comforter were twisted in a ball, sitting in the middle. Clothing spilled from two rucksacks propped near the door. The room was scarcely decorated like the rest of the apartment. A wobbly and scuffed wooden end table was positioned beside the bed. A battered dresser with three knobs missing and a loose panel had been pushed against a wall, and a tacky throw rug in mandarin orange with teal patterned splotches sat squarely in the middle of the floor. The walls were bare.
I wondered how safe it was to sit down. Doing my best to not think about the activities that had gone on in the room—in the bed—I tossed the twisted sheets aside and sat on the edge, pulling up Billie’s number and hitting Connect.
As it rang, I listened to the chatter from the other room. The volume had risen, and there was laughter. I got the sense they weren’t discussing serial killers any longer, and Dodger was taking the razzing he deserved for falling in love and settling down when less than six months ago he’d sworn to the world he would rather die on the rails.
The line connected, and Billie’s low-pitched, edgy tone came through. “Give me a sec.”
It was Friday afternoon, so I knew she was at her uncle’s bar, likely preparing for a busy evening. The crowd wouldn’t pick up for a few hours yet, so I imagined she was slipping out back so we could talk. Billie was a private person. Some of the people she worked with called her closed off or distant, but I knew better.
Billie kept her social circle small. She trusted few people, and it took a lot to earn that trust. Few made it past her shield.
A heavy door slammed, and the faint bar noises I’d heard in the background were replaced by the sound of distant traffic.
“When are you coming back?” No preamble. No hedging. Always straight to the point.
I stared at the closed wooden door across from me, listening to the rambunctious noises coming from the six men on the other side. Billie wouldn’t like what I had to say, and I’d avoided telling her to this point because I knew it would hurt.
“I’m not. I mean, not until spring.”
Silence.
“What do you mean?” Her voice was flat. Cautious. If people thought I was good at hiding my emotions, Billie was the master.
“I mean, I can’t come sooner. If I want to go to LA, I have to tag along with Tyler and Elian when they leave. They aren’t stopping over in Toronto, at least not long enough for me to visit.”
More silence.
“Are you mad?” I asked.
“Your dad stopped by.”
My skin prickled, and I sat up straighter, frowning. “What? Why?”
“He said he’s been texting you, and you haven’t responded.”
That wasn’t news. My dad and I had a rocky relationship. Whenever I passed through Toronto, I visited. I would stay with him for as long as I could stand, but things always soured between us, and I ended up at Billie’s.
“So? What did he want?”
Not texting my father back wasn’t exactly a red flag. It shouldn’t have been cause for him to hunt Billie down. For a fleeting second, I wondered if something had happened to one of my brothers. We weren’t close, but we weren’t exactly estranged either.
“He wanted me to let you know he has something for you. If you don’t come by and get it, he’s getting rid of it. Something to the effect of moving on and not having it around anymore. I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”
My shoulders came down, and I blew a chunk of hair from my face, toying with the piercing in my lower lip. “That’s it? He has something for me. Whatever it is, I don’t want it. I won’t be back until spring. Tell him to toss it if he comes back. I promised Dodger I wouldn’t ride alone, so if I want to go to LA—”
“It’s something to do with your mother.”
The words died in my throat. The room grew cold. I slid off the bed and sat on the floor, knees drawn up, chest tight. It took a second to find my voice and another to ensure it came out steady. “What do you mean?”
“He didn’t elaborate. He came by this afternoon. Gave me an address. Told me to tell you to stop by next time you were in the city. Said you’ve been ignoring his texts, and he’s done playing games. Said if you don’t show in the next couple of months, it’s going in the garbage.”
“What’s going in the garbage?”
“I said I don’t know.”
“Shit.” I raked the stud of my tongue ring along my teeth—a nasty habit—as I considered all angles.
Someone knocked on the door, and a second later, Dodger poked his head in.
“Go away,” I snapped, the words coming out unintentionally harsher than I intended.
Dodger noticed the phone to my ear and backed out of the room, mouthing sorry as he shut the door behind him, but I knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t go away like I’d requested. He’d stand sentry on the other side until I was finished. Then I’d be cornered.
“I gotta go.”
“When are you coming back?” Billie asked again.
We’d gone full circle.
“I don’t know. Let me think about it. I have to get to LA before the snow falls, and it’s turning into a freaking nightmare finding someone to ride with. If I stop in, I fuck it up even more. This would be so much easier if…” I huffed. “Never mind.”
Billie said nothing. She knew Killian, the person I’d gone to LA with for years, was no longer making the trip. She knew Tyler wasn’t going either. She also knew about the rail killer and Dodger’s warning to all of us about traveling alone.
