I Maximus Read online

  Table of Contents

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  OTHER BOOKS BY RAYLAN KANE 125

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR 126

  I, Maximus

  by Raylan Kane

  Copyright 2018. All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  For Melissa, as always,

  1

  Amtrak drivers called it “The Bump”. The treacherous run over the Rocky Mountains, Seattle to Minneapolis, several stops along the way. Train Number 8 shook and tilted right, rounding a curve midway up Mount Hope, near the top of the treeline at the border between Idaho and Montana. The rocking motion was enough to distract Maximus Hart from his book, Orwell's '1984'. He glanced at his watch. 10PM. Two seats faced his and the seat beside him, a table in between. All empty but for him. Same for the entire front half of his car. Empty and quiet. Just the way he liked it. Hell was other people.

  Something banged against the bottom of the train car and it swayed giving Maximus a feeling of dizziness for a moment. He looked to his right at the lever above the window, with a picture depicting its use. If this thing derails good to keep in mind the protocol for popping out the window, Maximus thought. A train derailment high in the mountains, not ideal. His stomach churned and he drew in a breath to steady his mind. Perhaps the swaying was normal on this stretch of track. It was his first time traveling the mountains by train, and he wasn't a fan. The night's blackness kept him from being able to see outside, get a feel for the state of things. The lack of control was frustrating. I should've rented a car, he thought. Tough to do without a credit card.

  The back-and-forth motion stopped and the car stabilized. Maximus went back to his book. He'd made it about another paragraph when he felt the thump of a person drop into the seat behind his. Great. He glanced back through the crack between seats and caught the outline of a woman, sprigs of dark hair floating over youthful skin. A white collared shirt under a knit sweater. A black shoulder bag. The smell of raspberries. The faint glow of her smart phone's screen. A young girl, probably late teens, early 20s. Maximus could hear her sniffle. Please just stay quiet, he thought. He went back to his book.

  The entrancing rhythm of wheels against the track was broken a minute later by the sound of an exuberant male voice. More than one. Please, no. Anxiety set in, a tightness in his chest. Immediately, he was thrown back to that night, in the alleyway, ten years before.

  Three of them, one of him. He took a beating, but not enough to send him to hospital. The scars ran deeper than any black eye though. I died that night. No, lest you forget, you were dead before the age of eight.

  All of it, everything that happened, it was well before the lost time. Still, the fear remained. Fear from the mugging. Fear instilled by what happened as a child. The distrust of people, men in particular. Worse than losing your wallet, your cash, your cell phone, your iPod - all that...stuff – was losing your sense of self. Your dignity. The confidence to move about in the world that used to come easy for a time.

  Yes, sure, the lost time. The difference in him after. Even after those physical changes, the past loomed over him, haunting him like a specter threatening violence around every turn. We're a small, loathsome species, Maximus thought.

  He looked over his left shoulder, down the aisle. Sure enough, two young men, smiling and laughing, probably over something stupid. Please go away. They made their way toward the front, not seeming to care how loud they were being. Typical. Maximus had a strong disdain for most people, but it was young men he hated most. These two were no exception. The way they spoke to one another, practically yelling even though they walked nearly side-by-side. Yep, the world's just here for you, he thought. There's no one else around, the entire train is your oyster. He sighed loudly, closed the book on his lap, holding his place with his thumb. The young men, as luck would have it, sat in the four-seater right behind him, across from the young girl. Does she know them? He could still hear her sniffling. Maximus shook his head. This is going to be trouble, he thought. How is it that it always finds me?

  One of the boys spoke, though it was low enough Maximus had to strain to hear.

  “Why'd you move up here?”

  “Because.”

  “You don't wanna sit with us?” The first boy said.

  “C'mon,” the second boy said, “we're friendly enough.”

  So, she doesn't know them, Maximus thought. I don't want to get involved. His stomach growled so loud he thought for sure they'd hear.

  “Leave me alone,” the girl said. “I just want to sit here, alone, okay?”

  “Why are you crying though?”

  “You know why.”

  “I didn't do anything to you,” the second boy said, “got it?”

  “He was just trying to get to know you better,” the first boy said. “I'd like to know you too.”

  “Please just go away.”

  “Nah,” the second boy said, “you've picked a good spot. We like these seats.”

  Maximus could feel the adrenaline rising inside him. A loud thump. He looked between the seats and noticed the first boy swept across from his seat to the one right beside the girl. The second boy observed Maximus peering through the crack.

  “Can I help you?” The second boy said.

  Maximus was afraid. I don't want to get involved. I don't want this. Please, can you all just go away. The whole thing, it grabbed at his psyche. He knew he couldn't ignore the situation. He knew he had to help the girl.

  You see? He said to himself. This is what people do, they get close to you and infect you with their problems. I'm here. They're there. I'm left with no choice now but to get involved. He tried to breathe in one long continuous breath to calm his nerves.

  “Hey, buddy,” the second young man said to him, “I'm talking to you.”

  The girl jumped up from her seat into the aisle. The two boys leaped to their feet. So did Maximus. The first boy reached out and grabbed the girl by her forearm. She turned and swiped her arm free. “Stop it,” she said. Maximus then stepped between her and the guy.

  “Who is this, your Dad?”

  “Do you know these boys?” Maximus said to the girl. She shook her head.

  “Why don't you mind your own business?”

  Maximus held up his copy of '1984'. “You've interrupted my reading,” he said. “You've made it my business.” A brave front, Maximus thought. The best approach.

  The young men squinted at the older man, sizing him up. They didn't act
right away. Maximus was six feet tall, an inch or two shorter than both boys, but he was a mesomorph. The young guys were wiry. Maximus could see the second boy, five feet from him, ball his hands into fists at his side.

  “Don't produce a weapon you don't intend to use,” Maximus said to him.

  “We just wanna talk to our friend, old man.”

  “It appears she doesn't want to talk to you.”

  “This is how it is?” The young man closest to Maximus said to the girl.

  “Like I said, she doesn't want to talk to you. My suggestion is you boys move somewhere else.”

  “Answer him, bitch,” shouted the second boy.

  Maximus's eyes widened. “Don't use that word. I won't tolerate that kind of language.”

  The young men laughed. “Okay, Teach,” said the guy closest to him. “You gonna give us detention?”

  “I want you to apologize,” Maximus said. Pull back, he thought, let's not push this. They seem ready to do violence. His first instinct in the rush of adrenaline thought otherwise though. “Apologize,” he said, “right now.”

  “Apologize? Are you serious, dude?”

  “To her, and to me.”

  “Yo, screw you,” the young man nearest Maximus lunged past him in an attempt to grab the girl. Maximus knocked the man's arm aside with his elbow. Here we go. The boy swung his other hand at him. Maximus slapped it aside and pushed the young man hard enough that he fell back into his seat.

  “Like I said, I don't tolerate that kind of language. Now apologize.” He took a breath to keep from shaking.

  He glared at the other young man, still standing with his fists vibrating at his sides.

  “You going to use those, or what?” Maximus pointed at the boy's hands. The fear had been pushed aside by anger.

  The other boy stood back up. “Yo, man, let's get outta here.”

  Maximus stepped forward blocking his path. “I still haven't heard an apology.”

  “Get out of my way, man.”

  “Not until you apologize.”

  Maximus kept staring directly into the boy's eyes. The boy looked down at the floor. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  “What was that?”

  “I'm sorry.”

  Maximus looked back at the girl. “I don't know if that works for me, does that work for you?”

  She nodded.

  “Lucky for you,” Maximus said, his lips nearly grazing the boy's cheek, “she's much more forgiving than I am.” He stepped back out of the boy's way. “Now both of you, get lost.”

  The two of them glared at Maximus and he did the same back at them as they retreated down to the end of the train car and disappeared through the sliding door to another car. Maximus turned to the girl, still standing in the aisle. He sighed with relief, an adrenaline dump, the anger and the burst of confidence disappearing just as quickly as they'd come on.

  “Are you alright?”

  She nodded, wiping away a tear.

  “Did those boys hurt you?”

  “I'm fine.”

  Maximus sat back down. “You're welcome to sit here,” he said. “But if not, probably somewhere close would be safest.” He knew it was the right thing to offer her a seat in one of the other three around him, but inside he hoped she'd sit somewhere else.

  The girl nodded and sunk into a seat diagonally across from him, on the other side of the aisle. That'll work, he thought. Satisfied, Maximus went back to his book.

  “Thank you,” the girl said.

  “Don't mention it.”

  2

  Maximus woke with a jolt feeling a hand placed on his shoulder. He grabbed the hand and looked up, surprised to see an Amtrak employee standing in the aisle. He immediately let go of the man's hand.

  “Sorry,” the man said, “just letting you know Kalispell is our next stop in about ten minutes.” The man looked at his watch. “Nine minutes actually. Not a long stop either, just a pick-up and drop-off, so you'll want to remain on the train.”

  Maximus nodded. “Thank you.” He had no plans to get off anywhere in the state of Montana, but it was helpful to know where he was geographically. Probably still another day or two to Minneapolis, he figured.

  The Amtrak employee walked away and Maximus looked across the aisle and noticed the girl was gone. Part of him was glad, but also a pang of worry shot through him, something he couldn't help. He cared even when he didn't want to. He turned quick to peer at the seats behind him. Empty. He looked down the aisle at the rest of the car behind him. An elderly couple a few rows back and no one else. Should I look for her? She might be in the bathroom. He gave her a few minutes, thinking she might return. Half of him hoping she wouldn't. He read six more pages of '1984', absorbing none of it. He thought about those boys and wondered where they were. He wondered if he was in danger himself. Yet, the odd thing was, he knew now that he could handle himself in seemingly any situation. A strange dichotomy.

  Then the train slowed. The blackness outside broken up by the orange glow of streetlights over a concrete platform with a white sign visible that read “KALISPELL”. That was nine minutes? Maximus was certain the man had his timing wrong.

  The train came to a stop and Maximus watched through the window to see people exiting from the car ahead of his. Good, go. The more the merrier. If he could've had the entire train to himself he would've. A small smattering of people stood waiting for their loved ones to exit the train. A few sets of headlights glowed from the opposite side of a chain-link fence beyond the train platform. Then he saw her. The young girl. Her arm held tight by one of those young men he'd encountered earlier. He saw the other young man walking with them. The fear jumped up and bit him again. Fear and surprise.

  “What the?”

  The girl appeared to struggle. She looked to be trying to pull away from the boy, but he was too strong. Maximus noticed an Amtrak worker lift the step-stool from the platform. Everyone who was getting off was off. The train was about to leave and carry on with its route. He glanced again at the girl, she was being dragged toward the parking lot. He shook his head. I don't want to do it, but I can't not do it. Really? She had to pick the seat right behind his? This is what happens. The infection. Drawing you into their tangled web.

  Maximus jumped up. Book in hand, he engaged the sliding door directly ahead of him and rushed to the exit at the rear of the next car. He met an Amtrak conductor cranking the stairs back up into the car.

  “Sorry,” Maximus said, “I need to get off.”

  “You're 2A, right?” The conductor said. “You're punched all the way to Minneapolis-St. Paul.”

  A voice came through on the man's two-way radio. “We all clear, Fred?”

  “I know,” Maximus said, “but I'm getting off here.”

  “Sir, we're just about to leave.”

  “Fred, are we clear back there?”

  “I'm sorry,” Maximus said, “I have to get off.”

  The man sighed. He keyed up his radio. “Stand by, I have to put the stairs back down.”

  The conductor pulled the mechanical arm toward him and the stairs clunked back into place outside the car.

  “Thank you,” Maximus said, bounding down the stairs to the platform.

  “Uh-huh.”

  Maximus could see his breath on the cold night air as he tucked his paperback into his rear pocket. The train rumbled and squealed as it set in motion once again, gliding away from the station, disappearing into the darkness. What are you doing? He questioned himself, but pressed forward in spite of his nerves screaming at him to retreat. He searched ahead of him, seeing silhouettes in front of the only headlights remaining in the parking lot. Sprinting toward them, Maximus could see the girl full on fighting as the young men nearly had her lifted off the ground as they shuffled her toward a waiting vehicle.

  “Let go of me,” she said, screeching. “Stop!” Her bag hit the pavement, the belongings inside scattered.

  “Hey,” Maximus said, shouting.

  “C'mo
n,” one of the men said, “hurry up.”

  “Hey.”

  The boys threw the girl into the trunk as she screamed. They slammed it shut and rushed to get into the car. Maximus surged forward. What are you doing? He didn't know his own mind. Instinct. Reflex.

  He wrapped his hand around the window frame on the passenger side door before the young man could get it or the window closed. The other young man was in the back seat. Maximus couldn't see whoever was behind the wheel. He held the passenger door open with a firm grasp. The boy tried to yank it shut but couldn't. The young man yelled at the driver.

  “Just go, man. Go.”

  The driver hit the gas, and Maximus kept his hand tight around the frame. The car lurched forward and for a second Maximus was able to hang on, nearly dislodging one of the door's hinges. But the force of the vehicle proved too much. His hand came off. He kicked at the rear of the vehicle, right on target, smashing the passenger side taillight. The driver immediately hit the brake.

  “What are you doing?” Said the young guy in the passenger seat. “Let's just go.”

  “He just smashed my stupid taillight,” the driver said.

  “Who cares?”

  The driver popped out of the car and faced Maximus, about thirty feet away. He was a bit older than the other two. Mid-20s. Stocky. A bit of a beer gut with a greasy chin-strap beard, wearing an old parka that had never seen the inside of a washing machine. Maximus could hear the girl kicking and screaming inside the trunk of the car. What now? He thought. Got to get her out of there.

  “Let her go,” Maximus said.

  “What'd you do to my car?”

  “You heard me.”

  The other two young men got out of the car. Three of them, one of him. That alleyway came back again. Clear in front of him.

  “You gonna pay for that damage, moron?”

  “I said, let her go.” Maximus took a step toward the trunk and the driver walked fast from the driver door. He raised a pistol. Maximus could feel his heart in his throat. No time to react. The man fired a shot striking Maximus on the left side of his chest. He let out a loud groan and fell to his knees. He touched the bullet wound with his finger tips. A white-hot coal exploding in his heart. He felt short of breath. Maximus grimaced, the metallic taste of blood touched the back of his tongue. The hot, searing pain of the metal in his chest was all-encompassing. He fell onto his side, could see all the way under the car. The girl kept screaming. Maximus touched at a spot of blood emerging from the wound. Dark as midnight. He rolled onto his back, staring up at the night sky. His breath, he noted, was red from the car's remaining taillight. He concentrated on the vapors, trying to ignore the pain.