CHAPTER FIVE
Rachel is jolted from her sleep by the screeching alarm on her cell phone. Disoriented and shocked to be awake in her sleeping cabin bed, she clumsily feels around for the phone and in the process knocks it off of the nightstand. On the floor, it continues to screech until she hurls herself out of bed and grabs the phone, poking the screen and pressing buttons until it stops.
She grabs her head, just realizing the terrible headache she has, accompanied by a strong feeling of nausea. She rolls onto her back on the carpet and stares up at the wood panel ceiling. “Oh my head,” she moans, squeezing her head and closing her eyes. After a moment of discomfort, she grabs her cell phone to check the time. Just then, the conductor’s calming, silky voice comes through the intercom in her room.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to thank you for traveling Amtrak. We’ve reached our final destination here in friendly San Francisco. We hope you’ve had a good trip, and please travel with us again soon.”
Rachel’s memory of the terrifying tea party feels distant, almost like she may have dreamt it. She climbs to her feet, feeling as if she has an alcohol hangover. She fumbles with the cabin door but manages to slide it open, peering out into the aisles. Everything appears to be normal as passengers gather their luggage and begin departing the train.
Rachel stops an older man as he and his wife pass her door. “Excuse me, sir. Um, this probably sounds weird, but did anything happen on the train last night?”
The man shakes his head. “No, I don’t believe so,” he says.
“Does she mean the food poisoning, dear? His wife says to him.
“Food poisoning?” Rachel asks.
“Oh, yes, I heard about that. Yes there were some poor folks that got a bad case of food poisoning. But, we heard they were all taken off the train by paramedics at the stop right before this, just a little while ago.”
“Oh,” Rachel says.
“Yes, there were five total. They must have eaten the same batch of bad food, whatever it was,” the woman says.
“Only five?”
“Yes, dear. Only five.”
A commotion breaks out in the adjacent train car. At first it sounds like a lot of confusion and talking, but then people start screaming.
“What on earth?” the elderly man exclaims.
Rachel sees a crowd gathering in front of a sleeping room in the next train car and rushes out to see what is going on. Other passengers are yelling, crying, and have disturbed, shocked expressions. “What happened?” Rachel asks, peering over the shoulders of the passengers.
Inside a sleeping cabin, Rachel catches a glimpse of what is causing the chaos. It’s Wayne, his body slumped on the floor and a small pistol lays next to him. Coagulated blood from the bullet wound streaks his face from the wound in his temple, and his glassy eyes are still open, unseeing.
Rachel’s heart skips a beat and thumps loudly in her ears. Abhorred by the sight, and confused, Rachel pushes and bumps her way through the now bigger crowd of onlookers and runs back to her room.
She hastily repacks her luggage, stuffing clothes into her bag. Her hands shaking, she reads the text message from her sister on her phone. “We’re here!” it says. She sighs, relieved that the nightmarish trip is over and feeling desperate to see her sister’s loving face. It is difficult for her to control the panic festering inside her. She slings her handbag over her shoulder and rolls her luggage behind her, running through the train car to the closest exiting door.
The cool morning air is refreshing as is the normalcy of the sights and sounds of people casually making their way off the train and towards their various destinations. She scans the crowds for any sign of her sister, and finally sees her a good distance off waving at her. Paramedics slide a stretcher out of a parked ambulance rush towards the train.
She warily watches them run onto the train, then forces herself to turn away and get to her sister. Relieved when she sees her, she waves back and begins walking quickly towards her, but a man midway between them catches her eye as he steps in front of her.
The man, a Catholic priest, is dressed in the standard black suit with white collar. He’s in his early fifties, his hair is salt and pepper colored and his eyes are blazingly bright blue. His face is serious and his eyes are focused on Rachel.
“Rachel Payne?” the Priest says, holding out his hand and gesturing for her to stop walking.
She stops, curious as to how anyone besides her sister would know her name. She doesn’t answer him, but stares at him. With her head still pounding and the nausea still making her woozy, she waits to see if he’ll speak again. She wonders to herself if she is delirious from her ordeal.
“Rachel?” the Priest asks again.
“Do I know you?” Rachel asks.
“No, not yet. But I need to know what happened on the train.”
Rachel’s sister Kara has reached them and suspiciously eyes the Priest. “What happened on the train? What’s with the ambulance?” she repeats the Priest’s words.
“A man killed himself,” she says, looking uneasily at the Priest.
“Oh my God!” Kara exclaims. “And I heard there were five other people that got sick or something?”
“Yeah, um… I heard it was food poisoning,” Rachel answers her sister, but keeps her eye on the inquisitive Priest.
“Oh, yuck, I thought that only happened on cruises!” Kara jokes. She warmly hugs Rachel, also keeping her eye on the odd Priest. “I can’t believe all that happened on your train!”
“I need to know what happened,” the Priest presses Rachel to answer.
Rachel thinks she knows what he’s asking for, but doesn’t know how he would have any knowledge of the events. But since she doesn’t know this man asking her about a nightmare that may or may not have actually happened, she pretends she doesn’t know what he wants.
“I’m sorry, you must have me confused with someone else,” she says, walking past him.
“What is that about? Do you know him?” Kara asks, concerned.
Rachel shakes her head. “I have no idea. All I know is that I am so glad to see you!” She hugs her sister again, relieved to be in her big sister’s strong, reassuring presence.
The Priest watches her start to walk away and hastily pulls a business card out of his pocket. He catches up with her.
“Rachel, please take my card,” he calls to her.
She twists around to see him handing her his card. She looks up at his striking blue eyes and hardened expression. She accepts the card and reads the name of a church and phone number on it.
“Are you recruiting people for your church?” Kara challenges, eyeing him suspiciously.
The Priest ignores Kara’s question, his focus is on Rachel. “Please call. Don’t wait too long,” he says firmly, his voice is slightly ominous. Before she can say anything, he turns and swiftly walks away.
“Well I guess that’s San Francisco for you,” Kara says. “There are a lot of strange people here. That’s why we live north, and not in the city!”
Rachel starts to converse with her sister but stops as a train steward in a red jacket and black pants with a similar appearance as Don hurriedly cuts in front of them on his way to the train. She watches the young man board the train and disappear down an aisle.
“What’s wrong?” Kara asks.
An uneasy feeling sweeps over her, and she glances back in the direction the Priest was headed. He is nowhere in sight.
“Nothing,” she lies to her sister. “Let’s get out of here.”