The Painting

#20 Lost - Caillte

I collided with Lyle's strained frame as she pulled me onto the narrow balcony. My momentum led us to fall to the hard metal ground of the caboose as the high pings of bullets hitting metal rang in my ears.

Lyle rolled her body over mine, shielding me. I could feel her uneven breaths as her chest rose and fell against my back. My cheek pressed harshly against the dirty floor, her forearm covered all of my face but my right eye. From my limited view I could see Smith and Jones growing smaller and smaller in the distance as our train sped away.

I heaved a tentative breath. The sharp clink of bullets subsided moments later, but we didn't dare move.

Lyle's voice was no louder than a whisper when she finally broke the silence. "You okay?"

I nodded numbly before realizing she couldn't see me as she was still positioned over me. I mumbled that I didn't think I was hurt, but still we didn't move.

The moon cast a glow over the tracks that passed by us in quick succession. Every track the same save for a few worn down ones that glinted in the brief light.

After a few more minutes Lyle withdrew her body from mine, rolling over onto her back so she lay next to me. We stayed like this in silent thought for what seemed like hours. My mind was completely blank, and I allowed it to be, pushing out any and every thought of the nights events.

I turned away from the roof of the caboose and looked to my right. I was closest to edge of the rails. As I studied the guard railing, I gave silent thanks they held because upon further inspection they were much more rusted than I thought.

What if they'd broke?

I pushed the nasty thought out of my head. No. I was safe now - we were safe now.

Was it appropriate to be thinking about this in terms of 'we'?

My hair tickled my face as I met a gentle breeze when turning to look at Lyle. Her eyes were closed and she lay sprawled on the caboose floor as if she were absorbing the solid ground. I watched her chest rise and fall easily, I wondered how she had been so calm.

She'd saved me. There was no doubt in my mind that I would've... I don't know what I would've done.

Lyle stirred from her spot next to me and with her eyes still closed she came to a seated position. Opening them slowly she stared into the darkness before her, unaware of my watchful presence. Absent mindedly she reached up to run her fingers through her hair but stopped herself. Her entire face contorted in pain as the opposite hand flew to the source of her torment.

I followed her movement to her right sleeve that faced me. Blood stained the dark green material and ran freely down her bicep.

"Shit, you're bleeding." I observed quietly as I rose slowly to sit cross legged next to her. My own body was numb and I felt as if I was underwater, unable to respond quickly, mentally or physically.

I didn't - couldn't - react in the way I knew I typically would have at the sight of blood. I felt not only that I didn't want to but that I was unable to take in the events that unfolded just moments before. My mind was utterly empty as I stumbled to my feet.

The door at the back of the caboose was covered in graffiti and I ran my hands over it blindly until I felt the rough surface of a handle.

The betrayal and anger I'd felt to Lyle when she confessed her true reason for staying at White Pine melted away. I blinked several times but couldn't shake the feeling - or lack of. Even my curiosity was void.