Runaway Train

Act III - Scene 7

The Conductor didn't need to tell anyone anything twice, that was for sure.

Though the strangling soul magic fled the car right away, the stillness it'd forced was left behind for a good half a minute. No one moved a muscle. No one said a word. Everything had shaken everyone up pretty well, and Johnny was far from an exception to that. He may as well still be paralyzed, really.

No, it wasn't Johnny or anyone he knew who broke the still-frozen state of the place. It was that housekeeper, Drake. They looked down ever so slightly at Nick where he still lay in their arms. Soul magic must not stop peoples' hearts from moving, it seemed; the blood that had pumped out of his wound and soaked their white gloves in the meantime proved that much. Drake sized up everything about the condition of their victim before taking a breath to speak: "Are you alright, Nick?"

"What the hell do you think, ah?!" the bartender exploded. "No, I'm not alright! You just STABBED me!" At least he's still got his strength, Johnny thought weakly.

"Non-lethally."

"You may as well have! I would've thanked you if you did! Damn it!" He winced; the strain of shouting must've pinched something in the wound. Through harshly gritted teeth, he added, "You could've just told me to stop."

Louise peeked just over the bar. "And would you have listened?"

"No," he replied, "but I wouldn't have been STABBED! STABBED!!" An annoyed huff blew from him, despite the pain. "Not that you people would care anyway. That's what I get for keeping two knife murderers around." Johnny did a double-take. Knife murderers? Murderers?! His wide eyes flicked between Louise and Drake—neither seemed offended or indignant at the accusation. A wave of horror crashed over him and flipped him all around until he didn't know what to do or think.

Standing, Louise sighed. "Alright, settle down," they said gently. "Come around with him and sit him somewhere, would you, Drake? I'll patch him up enough." A nod, and they did as asked. Once they got out from behind the bar, Louise took Nick into her own friendly grasp and helped him to a booth. With that, she sat down with him and began threading a needle she dug out from somewhere in her skirt. Drake took up a post nearby. It's like nothing happened! How is this all so normal?!

Everyone else in the car took that as their signal that it was alright to move too. Sally got up and hurried around, but was soon relieved by Orla popping out from behind the bar. They came together, the singer scolding and fussing as the dancer laughed apologetically.

BB straightened out from under the bar and glared over at Nick. She didn't spare any harshness. It was obvious she didn't care much about the state he was in. "Can I have a couple spoons now?" she asked.

Nick sneered. "As many as you fucking want." A satisfied smirk turned the zombie's mouth and she promptly skated behind the counter.

"Ugh," groaned Lillian. The release of the soul magic had left her in a strange position, half-on half-off the edge of the bar. She brought herself around into a more proper way of sitting: she faced Johnny, where he still shakily stood in the aisle across from her, and let her legs dangle over the edge of the counter. Her mary jane-d feet crossed at the ankles. "'The rudeness of my employee.' Like they do any real work anyway," she said. "Weirdo."

Johnny tried to shift around too, but quickly remembered himself and put his weight back in his good leg. "W-well," he stuttered. "Sure, I guess you could say they're... weird." I guess you could say everything's weird right now, but I think that'd be putting it very lightly.

Her ears went forward a little. It was clear she'd noticed he was off. There was no time for anything else to be said; she hopped off the counter and took him by the arm. "Hang on, I got you," she said. "Take a sec. We'll all get going again in a minute, but you just relax for now." After a bit of effort, they made it across the way to the nearest booth seat. It was really too bad that that happened to be the same one that Nick was at. Johnny tried to say something but it was useless, partly because it only came out as a bunch of stuttered nonsense and partly because Lillian had already gone away by then. He swallowed a terrible knot in his throat. Two knife murderers, an angry, trigger-happy bartender, and I'm sitting alone with them. God, keep me safe!