End of the Line by Nicky James

FIFTEEN

Leopold

We stayed at the campground for five days. On the second day, Willow and Tyler hitchhiked to a nearby town to get more supplies since we were running out of food. They came back with several packages of hot dogs that we cooked over the fire using sticks, sugar-coated cereal that we ate dry with our hands, crackers, dried oats for oatmeal, trail mix, a few cans of bland soup, waxy cheese that peeled into long strings, and two packs of cigarettes for Dodger.

Dodger shared them with Killian who rarely took more than a single drag which he didn’t inhale. It was always paired with a swig of bourbon from his flask. I understood the compulsion now. Why he did it. Watching him go through the motions of smoking and swigging bourbon, remembering the story behind it, I considered Willow’s words from back in the motel in Winnipeg. The envelope of newspaper clippings was packed away in my bag. I didn’t have the courage to broach the subject yet, but I would. With my decision to stay, I had more time.

Things settled.

Dodger’s attitude toward me changed from disdain to tolerance to something akin to friendship. At night, he regaled us with stories about the CP Rail killer and all he’d researched and learned. Dodger was adamant the person existed. He named a long list of missing riders or ones who had turned up dead near the tracks.

“The cops always brush their deaths off as accidental, but I know there’s more to it.”

Tyler was quiet during those conversations, and I knew his mind was on his friend Elian. Part of me wanted to tell Dodger to shut up, but another part didn’t think it was my place.

One rainy morning, we all huddled under a makeshift tarp we had constructed out of garbage bags. Tyler had a pack of Hubba Bubba bubble tape which he shared around. We stuffed our faces with gum and had a bubble-blowing contest. The contest turned aggressive as we all fell over each other trying to pop one another’s bubbles. In the end, we were covered in mud, soaked from the rain, and Willow and I had gum stuck to our eyebrows and between our fingers.

The five of us ended up at the pump fountains, stripping to our underwear and washing in the freezing cold water. We shivered beside a campfire that night after the rain stopped, doing what we could to warm up.

Willow sang for us most evenings. Her voice was like thick molasses, smooth and sexy. It was perfect for her classical jazzy blues style. There wasn’t a single one of us who wasn’t put under her spell. The songs she sang were her own, and they held a quality, a sorrow, that spoke of a hard life. I didn’t know much about her past, but I assumed there was a story there.

Her voice made my chest tight and brought tears I had to work hard to hide to my eyes. She could go far with that voice. It was just that good. All she needed was for someone to recognize her talent and cut her a break.

Knowing the lifestyle of riders, I wasn’t sure fame was the life she sought.

On the nights Tyler wasn’t lost in his head, he was a whole different person. Exuberant, energetic, funny. He told jokes—mostly at other people’s expense—and wasn’t ashamed when Killian and Dodger hurled them right back in his face. He danced uninhibited, put on one-man skits and shows, and sometimes told stories about imagined worlds and beasts he created on the spot. Tyler had a free spirit to him and an easy smile. I got the sense, ordinarily, not many things bothered him.

Elian was a bruise on his soul.

Killian and I endured endless teasing about the moans and groans of pleasure that leaked through the walls of our tent at night despite how hard we tried to be quiet. Dodger also commented on the heavy stench of sex he claimed billowed in the air around it. In retaliation, I asked him how his Megan Fox–induced calluses were doing, and Dodger’s jaw hit the ground. When he didn’t have a comeback, everyone rolled with riotous laughter. The poor guy had to put up with two solid days of ribbing.

It was true, though. Killian and I couldn’t keep our hands off each other at night. We explored more than our share of frotting, handjobs, and oral pleasure, but our lack of supplies had put a limit on doing more. During the daytime, we wandered off plenty, hand in hand to hoots and hollers and jokes about our insatiable appetites for each other.

We didn’t care.

I claimed the job of washing everyone’s spare clothes. They hung on the low branches of several trees to dry in the autumn breeze. A fire burned all day in the pit, and we sat huddled around it to keep warm while playing endless games of cards and knuckles.

I still hated knuckles. I was too slow, and my hands were red and sore as a result, but I was too eager to be included and therefore never turned down a game. Tyler went easy on me. Dodger was brutal and unforgiving, and I refused to play with Willow when she almost made Killian cry.

My nightmares got worse, and I woke several times during our stay at the campground in the throes of terror, thinking I was back in the hotel in Montreal, fighting off Barrett as he pinned me to the bed, his hand around my throat. It took Killian a long time to calm me. Only when he shined a flashlight on my hands to prove there was no blood would I believe him.

I wasn’t sure if the horror of the incident would ever go away or if I’d be plagued by the memories of stabbing a man for life.

On the fifth morning, it was cold enough to see my breath, and I shivered as I stuffed my icy toes into my boots and hustled to the fire to get warm. Killian was still asleep, but I was restless. Willow and Dodger were at the fire, but Tyler was still snoring in his tent.

I bounced on my toes as I held my hands to the low flames, absorbing the heat. My stomach rumbled loud enough to catch Willow’s attention.

“We’re out of food,” she said.

“Oh.” I knew we’d scraped the end of our stash the previous day, but I didn’t know what that meant. “Are we making another run into town?” I knew I wouldn’t be the one to go. It was too dangerous since my face was all over the news.

“I think we should head out.” Dodger never looked away from the flames as he spoke. His chin and mouth were tucked inside his jacket, the steam from his breath fogging his glasses each time he exhaled. The hood of his sweatshirt was pulled up and drawn tight around his ears. “I have to get home, and we’ve been hiding out long enough. My dad will be pissed. I was supposed to start work already.”

I didn’t respond. When it came to our plans, I wasn’t the one who made the decisions.

“Should we head back to the tracks?” Willow asked.

Dodger shook his head. “No point. There isn’t a regular stop close enough. We should hike to the nearest town and hitch a ride. Maybe we can find someone going to Moose Jaw or thereabouts.”

“What about Leo?”

I glanced at Dodger, equally curious.

Dodger chewed on his answer for a long time before he sighed. “We’ll have to be careful.” He studied me, and I shifted under the scrutiny. “He doesn’t look anything like the guy they’re showing on TV anymore. No offense, Green, but we’ve kinda beaten the pretty boy right out of you.”

“None taken.” He was right. I was certain if I stood in front of my father wearing the grubby clothes we’d bought at a thrift store, sporting the patchy facial hair I couldn’t grow, and smelling like a campfire, he wouldn’t know me. Strangers would be looking for a whole different person.

Willow got a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “I have an idea. I can spruce him up a bit too. It will help.”

“Perfect.” Dodger winked and smacked my shoulder. “Did you sleep okay?”

I didn’t know if he was poking fun at Killian’s and my bedtime activities the previous night or if he’d heard me scream myself awake from a nightmare in the wee hours of the morning. Either was possible.

“Yeah. Not bad,” I lied.

I stared at the dwindling flames of the fire, aware Willow was watching me.

When everyone else woke, Dodger announced our plans. No one disagreed, and we packed up camp immediately so we could get on the road. Willow was ready to go first, but she and Dodger had started before everyone had awoken. When she was finished, she directed me to the picnic bench and proceeded to give me a makeover.

I tried to object, telling her I had to help Killian pack, but Killian waved it off and shooed me away with a smirk. He tossed curious glances over his shoulder as Willow went to work.

I had no idea what she had planned, but when Willow told me to sit still, I sat still. When she told me to close my eyes, I closed my eyes. She was intimidating in a way I couldn’t explain. Maybe it was because she hid behind an expressionless mask.

“You have great features,” she said as she lined my eyes. “You could be a model.”

I snorted. “Doubt it.”

Willow stood between my legs and worked methodically, applying a touch of this and a dab of that until she was satisfied. Then she tied a black bandana around my head, tucking bits of hair underneath and holding my cheeks as she tilted my face one way then the other, examining me until she was satisfied.

From a small pouch in her bag, she withdrew a tiny container. It was filled with jewelry. Willow had all kinds of piercings. I’d admired them plenty. She removed a small silver hoop and pursed her lips as she considered.

“You aren’t jabbing that through my skin, are you?” I squirmed.

“No. But I can probably pinch it into place to make it look like you have a piercing.”

She took the hoop between her teeth and bit down until the ends sat closer together.

“You’re ruining it.”

“It’s fine. I have lots, and they’re cheap garbage I buy at the dollar store. Now, what do you want pierced, Green?”

“His dick,” Dodger called, hooting with laughter. He’d returned from the fountain where he’d filled all our water bottles. “Killer would thank you.”

Willow grinned—a rare thing to see on her face—and cocked a brow.

“No way!” I covered myself.

Willow rolled her eyes. “As if I’d go anywhere near your dick, pretty boy. Besides, it’s meant to be a disguise. Unless you’re walking down the street naked, no one will see your dick. Lip, nose, or eyebrow?”

“Um…”

“Killer,” Dodger yelled. “Willow’s piercing your boyfriend. Do you have a preference?”

Killian poked his head out of the tent where he’d been packing up the sleeping bags. “What? Piercing?”

Willow held my chin and angled it toward Killian. “Look at this cute face and tell me where to stick the hole.”

Killian’s eyes went round. “Holy crap. You look…”

“What?” I flashed my attention to Willow and back at Killian who was slack-jawed and staring. “Why’s he looking at me like that?”

“He’s getting a boner because you look super hot with the bad-boy makeover I’ve given you.”

My cheeks burned. “Oh.”

“Now, lip, nose, or eyebrow? Choose or I will.”

“Go lip,” Dodger said, approaching and examining all Willow had done. “It will stand out the most, and that’s what we want.”

Willow went to work, pinching the hoop of metal against my skin so it wouldn’t budge. It hurt when she squeezed it tight, but I stayed quiet. “There. Done.”

“Do you have a mirror?” I asked.

Willow patted my cheek. “Nope, but trust me. You are not the same man they are showing on the news. No one will recognize you.”

I thanked Willow as she packed away her things. She and Dodger ended up hovering over his phone and discussing a plan for getting to Moose Jaw, so I watched Killian and Tyler as they took down camp.

Tyler had tossed everything from his tent onto the ground outside it. When he shook out his sleeping bag, something tumbled from within and rolled in the dirt. He cursed under his breath, but it was loud enough to draw my attention. His head jerked up, and he darted a panicked gaze around to see if anyone was watching as he scooped the item up and brushed it off.

Our eyes locked, and Tyler froze. In his hands was a ratty old stuffed rabbit with long floppy ears. Based on its condition, I got the sense Tyler must have had that stuffed animal since he was little. His cheeks flamed as bright as his hair, and he jammed the rabbit inside his rucksack with a look of mortification.

The others hadn’t seen, so I gave Tyler a soft smile and looked away, knowing he was embarrassed. Like Willow and Dodger, I knew little about Tyler’s past. I didn’t know why he rode the rails or where he called home. Whatever the story was behind the rabbit, I wasn’t about to tease or make fun of him. The way he protected it and kept it close told me it held sentimental value. Like Killian and his cigarette ritual, Tyler’s stuffed rabbit likely had a story.

We were on the road in less than an hour, hiking toward the nearest town that was over eight miles away. Willow and Tyler had caught a ride when they’d gone earlier in the week, but with five of us trekking along, not a single vehicle stopped. We were aiming for a city named Brandon. According to Dodger, it was over four hours by car from Brandon to Moose Jaw, and he was hoping we’d find someone heading that way who would take us.

Killian couldn’t stop staring at me as we ambled down the desolate country road. “What?” I said when I caught him looking again.

“Nothing.”

“You’re staring.”

“You look crazy hot with your eyes like that.”

“I do not.” My cheeks flushed.

“Since you’re rocking this new edgy look, you definitely need a tattoo. We can go together.”

I shoulder-bumped him, and we both laughed. “My father would kill me if I got a tattoo.”

“Are you still worried about that?”

It took me a second to answer. It was hard to shed those natural instincts. Conforming to my father’s way of life was all I’d ever known. The only time I’d ever defied him was when it came to my sexuality, but that had always felt necessary.

“I guess not. Isn’t this thing between us kind of new for matching tattoos?”

Killian snagged my arm and caught my chin. I staggered since we were walking and fell against him with a soft laugh. He licked my lower lip over the hoop Willow had pinched against my skin. “I’d do it. If not the tattoo, I vote that you make this thing,” he flicked the hoop with his tongue, “permanent.”

I grinned and pecked his mouth. “You like it?”

Killian groaned. “So much. I’m digging the eyeliner too. You should see yourself.” He took my hand and pressed it against the front of his pants, lowering his voice. “I’ve been walking with a semi since we left the park.”

I snorted, and it caught the attention of the others.

Dodger let out a sharp whistle. “Stop sucking face, or we’ll never get a ride. No wonder nobody’s stopping.”

Killian gave him the finger and kissed me once more before letting go. We kept walking down the side of the road, but Killian still spent more time with his eyes on me than where he was going. It made warmth curl in my belly, and I couldn’t stop smiling.

No one picked us up, and we reached Brandon a little before noon. We were starving and tired. Without a single word of discussion, we ended up at McDonald’s. I offered to pay, but no one took me up on it. I’d footed the bill for our motel in Winnipeg, and Tyler announced they were all treating me today.

As we stood in line, I tried to glimpse what the Happy Meal toys were. The two Transformers I’d collected were in my pocket, and I brought them out to compare with the ones available at this McDonald’s. I beamed when I saw they were different.

“I’ve never seen anyone this excited for a Happy Meal,” Willow said. “Green, you’re hilarious. I love it.”

Embarrassed, I stopped bouncing and did my best to look passive and disinterested. It didn’t work.

The restaurant was gearing up for the lunch crowd, and as we waited for our orders, a table of screeching children caught my attention. A young mother sat in a booth with three little boys. She looked ragged and tired. Her ponytail was askew, and she had bags under her eyes. The three boys were all quite young. The oldest couldn’t have been more than eight. The kids were sharing a container of chicken nuggets, but the middle child was crying about wanting a toy as he pointed to the board I’d been admiring.

The mother shushed him, dabbing his crocodile tears as she explained she didn’t have money for three Happy Meals and that they had to share the big pack of nuggets and fries instead. Once one boy started about the toys, the others chimed in until all three were whining and crying.

I couldn’t take my eyes off them. When our order was called and Killian tugged my arm, I reluctantly followed our group to a booth on the other side of the restaurant.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Killian asked when I didn’t open my meal.

“In a minute.”

I dug through my Happy Meal bag until I found the plastic-wrapped toy I’d chosen. I tore it open with my teeth, extracting the new Transformer. I excused myself and approached the table with the kids.

The young woman glanced up at my approach and startled, her eyes going wide. Not for the first time, I wondered how different I must look thanks to Willow’s makeover. Plus, we’d been in the woods for five days without the luxury of a shower or razors. The best we’d had was a cold pump fountain. Did she see a homeless man? Was it the makeup and fake piercing that caused that look on her face?

I wasn’t used to people looking at me like that.

I did my best to soften my edge with a smile. “Hi. I’m sorry to interrupt your lunch. I was wondering if your boys would like these. I don’t need them.” I lined up the three Transformers I’d collected on the edge of the table. “Don’t fight over them, okay?” I told the boys who’d stopped eating to stare. “Can you share?”

Three heads bobbed.

“Good. Have a nice day.”

Exclamations of excitement replaced the boys’ tears as I walked away, and by the time I reached our table and glanced back, all three of them were grinning and playing with the toys. The woman watched me with awe and confusion. I turned back to my meal and unwrapped my cheeseburger, taking the first delicious bite and savoring every morsel.

Killian wrapped his arm around me and kissed my temple. Nothing more was said.

When it was time to go, Dodger hung back, claiming he had to use the bathroom before we hit the road to try and get a ride to Moose Jaw.

When he met us in the street, he sidled up beside me and tucked something into my pocket. “You’re pretty awesome, Green. You deserve one too.”

When I pulled out the item, I found a plastic-wrapped Transformer the same as the one I’d originally chosen with my meal. My cheeks flushed, and I met Dodger’s eyes. He winked then was quick to dispel the moment by clapping his hands loudly and announcing it was time to hit the road.

We’d been walking for over an hour, Brandon far behind us. The midafternoon sun was warm and dispelled the earlier chill. The goal was simply to stay on the road to Moose Jaw and thumb for a ride. If we ran out of steam, we’d find a secluded place out of sight to pitch our tents and camp for the night.

We were all dragging our feet by five that evening. Apart from our lunch break, we’d been walking all day. According to Killian, Moose Jaw was in Saskatchewan, and we were still in Manitoba, so we had a long way to go. I tried not to complain, but my shoulders ached, and I had blisters on both heels where my boots rubbed because they were a size too big.

As the sun dipped low in the sky, my stomach rumbled. We’d stocked up on food in Brandon, which was a good thing since it looked like we wouldn’t be getting a ride that night. We shared boxes of crackers and strips of beef jerky as we walked.

At one point, Killian skipped ahead to chat with Willow and Tyler, and Dodger and I ended up side by side a few paces behind. For a long time, we didn’t speak. I still couldn’t be sure where I sat with Dodger, and I tried hard not to rock the boat.

“Did you figure out your new toy yet?” he asked as he pulled a cigarette from a crumpled pack and stuck it between his lips.

I found the Transformer in my pocket and pulled it out, showing him. Killian and I had passed it back and forth earlier, switching it from a mighty robot killing machine to a sleek car. We’d had a timed race to see who could change it the fastest.

Dodger took the toy and examined it. He twisted a few parts but chuckled and handed it back. “Never could figure those things out.”

He let out a sharp whistle and wagged his pack of smokes at Killian when he turned around. “Want one?”

Killian accepted, thanking him, and turned back to Willow and Tyler as he found a lighter and lit up.

Dodger and I both watched the ritual. First a long haul, then a shuddering sip of bourbon from his flask. Then nothing.

“I don’t know why he always wants one when he doesn’t seem to like it much,” Dodger said as he fished for his lighter.

I didn’t share Killian’s reasoning. It was personal.

Dodger offered me a cigarette from his crumpled pack, and I turned it down.

“You ever tried smoking, or are you too preppy for that?”

I pffed. “Do I look preppy?” I gave him the harshest glare I could muster, striking a pose and playing on the bad-boy edge Willow had given me.

Dodger laughed. “You’re something, Green. Since you’re so badass, have a smoke and show me what you’ve got.”

“Nah, I only do drugs.” I waved him off, playing along.

Dodger snorted. “Oh yeah?” He tucked his unlit cigarette back into the pack and fished inside, pulling out a rolled joint. “Let’s go then. Put your money where your mouth is, hotshot.”

My eyes bulged. “Is that weed?”

“Yes. Now, if I light up, are you gonna share with me? I save these for special occasions. I don’t want to waste it.”

I opened my mouth to decline. My father would have a stroke. Then I paused, remembering I didn’t care what he thought anymore and this was my life. My new life. And I could do with it what I wanted.

I shrugged, trying and failing at nonchalance. “Why not? Let’s do it.”

Dodger couldn’t stop chuckling and shaking his head. He thought I wouldn’t take him up on it. He lit the joint and took a long haul, holding it in his lungs before letting it out on a heavy sigh. Then he offered it to me.

“You get one, maybe two hits, but that’s it. I don’t need you royally fucked up. Your boyfriend will kill me.”

It was a bonding moment between Dodger and me, and in the end, one hit landed me in stonerville.