Submitted by: J. Rohr

Part I

Welcome to the East

The landscape lost its tranquility as the sun dipped below the horizon.  It had not yet fully set, however, night's long fingers were already taking hold.  Jeremiah stared out the window wondering if he had finally lost all reason.

He reached underneath his seat and removed a leather satchel that looked like it had seen its better days years ago.  From within he withdrew a letter, which he knew by heart now, though he found himself reading it over and over again.

The train carriage dipped far to one side as the locomotive rounded a sharp bend.  Jeremiah's stomach had gotten used to the hairpin turns taken at too quick a pace, but the blood still drained from his face.  He could almost feel the pallor develop.  It made his mouth dry.  Shivering off his concern, he returned to the letter.

It was written on coarse white paper, unusually stiff and firm.  When he had first opened it, the paper carried the scent of incense, but that smell was just a memory now.  His eyes moved over the text for near the hundredth time.

 

"Mr. Jeremiah Sinclair,

In light of your recent situation, it is recommended that you seek future employment abroad.  Travel arrangements have already been prepared.  You have simply to pick up your ticket at the airport and board the appropriate flight.  At your arrival further instructions will follow.

 

P.S.  Ignoring this offer will result in you wasting your life."

There was no signature, no return address.  In fact, his address hadn't even been on the envelope.  The letter had simply been slipped under his door.  Most people, sane people, would have ignored the contents and gone on with their lives.  Yet, for some reason, Jeremiah felt compelled to follow the instructions.  All he could remember was the incense scent.  It reminded him of dark colors and mouth watering desire.  He'd read the words, then smelled the fragrance, and suddenly had his satchel packed  and was in a cab on the way to the airport.

 

Over the course of the flight, which seemed to last for days, he'd paid little attention to anything but the letter.  The plane had deposited him in Mandalay, Myanmar.  Barely off the plane, he was greeted by a car, complete with uniformed driver, and swept off to a nearby train station.  A private train had been waiting at the platform, and he had boarded without question, following a thin cloud of that same incense smell.  However, as the scent faded from the air, hesitation crept into his actions.

Unfortunately, his doubts took a back seat to fatigue.  Most of the train ride he'd slept, only occasionally waking as he made his way from Myanmar, into Bangladesh, then up through Nepal.  The compartment was comfortable to say the least.  The train consisted of three cars, including the engine.  At first he had been content in the rear car, but as his hesitation increased, Jeremiah tried to explore the other car.  He heard muffled voices through the connecting door but found, much to his concern, it locked from the other side.

 

Jeremiah read the post script.  Was it a threat?  He couldn't tell.  Although, somehow it seemed like a caution.  As if the writer were offering him a possibility above his current circumstance.  Thinking back to his dungeon-like apartment in Chicago, he knew anything was better than back home.  Anything that is, except being locked in a speeding train thousands of miles from anywhere familiar.

Putting the letter back in his satchel, Jeremiah checked his bag for one particular item.  Feeling cold metal against his fingers he felt slightly safer.  Even in his irrational rush to the airport, Jeremiah had, almost instinctively, packed his Taurus model 84 .32 caliber revolver.  Without removing it from the satchel, he checked the siX-Shot cylinder to make sure it was loaded.  Seeing that it was, he tucked it under the few shirts he'd packed.

 

Taking in a deep breath, Jeremiah collected all of his worries and let them out in a long slow exhalation.  For whatever reasons he had brought himself to this point.  Panicking wouldn't help his situation any.  The best thing to do was to stay focused, take each problem one at a time, and a few other cliched cautionary maxims he told himself.

 

Leaning back in his seat, he let his eyes close half way.  He'd forgotten to take a watch and so had no idea how long he'd been traveling.  As he drifted into a doze, Jeremiah wondered how much farther he had left to journey.

The train shook as the brakes were applied.  The sudden jolt rocked the carriage, shaking Jeremiah awake.  He blinked his eyes to erase his vision's sleep induced blur.  For a moment, he couldn't remember where he was.  Then it all came back.  Looking out the window he saw low buildings, so run down they seemed to beg for demolition.  Instead of a platform, the train "station" was a dirt mound with a few tree stumps serving as seats.  The platform as well as the town seemed deserted.      A knock at the back door drew his attention.

Slipping the revolver into his coat pocket, Jeremiah picked up his satchel.  Opening the door he saw a man, whose parents must have been mountains, standing in the doorway.  He motioned for Jeremiah to follow and led the way to the dirt mound. 

Coming around the carriage Jeremiah saw that where there had been no one before, four men stood on the earthen platform.  Three wore heavy thick furs and had their heads wrapped to the point where only a narrow slit remained for their eyes.  The mountainous man was adorned much as the fourth man, in a black suit, red tie, and leather trench coat.

 

The fourth man smiled as Jeremiah approached.  When close enough to be heard, the man asked, "Jeremiah Sinclair?"

"Yes," Jeremiah replied in a stern voice.  He thought to himself, 'Stay focused.  You can handle this.'

The fourth man opened his mouth as if to speak again but instead suddenly lashed out, striking Jeremiah on the side of the head.  The man's hand felt like a hammer smashing across his face.  As blackness closed  around him, Jeremiah heard the man say, "Welcome to the East."

Coming Soon!

Part II

A Man and Silhouettes



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