The Lutin
Joseph James encounters the long-lost Number 33 at an abandoned Louisiana railway station; he is forced aboard a cursed train where a shapeshifting Lutin steals the faces of its passengers.
Chapter 1
Joseph James sat alone at the Saint Mercy railway station, exhausted, when he felt someone place a hand on his shoulder.
He did not move.
The hand was cold.
Not cool from the night air or damp from the Louisiana humidity. It was cold enough that Joseph felt it through his shirt and coat. Five fingers rested against him with the light pressure of someone seeking his attention.
Joseph stared across the tracks.
There was nothing on the other side except swamp.
Cypress trees stood beyond the railway line with Spanish moss hanging from their branches. Black water covered much of the ground between them. Insects filled the night with a constant noise that Joseph had stopped noticing nearly an hour earlier.
The hand remained.
"Sir," a woman whispered behind him. "You shouldn't be waiting here."
Joseph turned.
Nobody stood behind him.
He rose from the bench.
His leather suitcase fell onto its side.
Joseph ignored it.
"Hello?"
The platform was empty.
He looked toward the station house. The building had been abandoned long enough for weeds to grow through cracks in the boards. White paint had peeled away from the walls. Two windows were covered from inside. The ticket window beside the entrance had been nailed shut with three planks.
Joseph looked in the opposite direction.
Nothing.
"Very funny."
His words carried across the tracks and disappeared into the swamp.
Joseph rubbed his shoulder.
The place had bothered him from the moment he arrived.
His automobile had quit several miles back on the parish road. The engine had coughed twice, shuddered, and died. Joseph had spent twenty minutes under the hood before accepting that whatever was wrong exceeded both his knowledge and patience.
He had seen the railway sign through the trees while walking.
SAINT MERCY.
A station meant people.
At least, that had been his reasoning.
The reasoning had proved poor.
Joseph picked up his suitcase and returned it to the bench.
He checked his watch.
12:17.
He tapped the glass.
The second hand did not move.
"Perfect."
Joseph looked at the clock mounted beneath the station roof.
12:17.
He frowned.
He checked his watch again.
The same time.
Joseph wound the watch.
Nothing happened.
"That's useful."
A light came on behind him.
Joseph turned.
One of the station lamps was burning.
He stared at it.
The old oil lamp hung from an iron hook beside the station door. Joseph had noticed it earlier because half the glass was black with soot.
It had not been burning.
Now a steady yellow flame glowed inside.
Another lamp ignited farther down the platform.
Then another.
Joseph slowly stood.
"Hello?"
Something moved inside the station.
Joseph heard a chair scrape across wood.
He approached the building.
"Is somebody in there?"
No answer.
He stepped closer to the boarded ticket window.
The three planks were gone.
Joseph stopped.
He was certain they had been there.
The wooden shutter behind the window slid upward.
An elderly man sat behind the counter.
Joseph stepped back.
The man wore a white shirt, black vest and narrow bow tie. His gray hair had been combed carefully to one side. Small spectacles rested near the end of his nose.
He looked down at an open ledger.
Joseph stared at him.
The old man dipped a pen into an ink bottle.
"Can I help you?" Joseph asked.
The old man continued writing.
Joseph waited.
Finally the man looked up.
"I believe that is my question."
Joseph glanced toward the station door.
"Where did you come from?"
The old man looked around the office.
"Work."
"Work?"
"Yes."
"This station is abandoned."
The man's expression did not change.
"Then I suppose I've wasted a considerable portion of my life."
Joseph stared at him for several seconds.
"Do you have a telephone?"
"No."
"Of course you don't."
Joseph rested both hands against the counter.
"My automobile broke down a few miles east of here. I need to reach the nearest town."
"Saint Mercy."
"Where?"
"Saint Mercy."
Joseph looked toward the darkness surrounding the station.
"This is Saint Mercy?"
"This is the Saint Mercy station."
"Where's the town?"
The old man returned to his ledger.
"Gone."
Joseph waited for more.
None came.
"What's your name?"
The pen stopped.
"Victor Wilson."
"Joseph James."
Victor looked up.
Something changed in his face.
It lasted only a moment.
Joseph saw it.
"You know that name?"
Victor closed the ledger.
"No."
"That was a very convincing no."
"I don't believe it is my responsibility to convince you of anything, Mr. James."
Joseph straightened.
"You just said you didn't know my name."
"I don't."
"But you remembered it quickly."
Victor removed his spectacles and cleaned them with a cloth.
"Some names are easier to remember than others."
Joseph looked at the closed ledger.
"What are you writing?"
"Arrivals."
Joseph glanced around the empty platform.
"Busy night."
Victor put his spectacles back on.
"It may become one."
The station clock clicked.
Joseph turned.
The minute hand moved.
12:18.
His watch remained at 12:17.
Joseph looked back at Victor.
"Is there a train coming?"
Victor said nothing.
"Mr. Wilson."
"Yes."
"Is there a train coming?"
"There is always a train coming."
"When?"
Victor looked beyond Joseph toward the tracks.
"Soon."
Joseph followed his gaze.
The rails vanished into darkness in both directions.
"What line?"
Victor hesitated.
"Number Thirty-Three."
Joseph gave a tired laugh.
"I meant which railway."
"So did I."
Joseph's smile disappeared.
Victor opened his ledger again.
"You should collect your suitcase."
"Why?"
"Because Number Thirty-Three does not wait long."
Joseph remained at the window.
"I don't have a ticket."
Victor looked at him.
"Yes, you do."
Joseph heard footsteps behind him.
He turned quickly.
A woman stood beneath the station lamp.
She appeared to be in her late twenties. Long auburn hair fell across the shoulders of a pale dress that belonged to another time. Her face was white, but not transparent. She looked solid enough until Joseph noticed that her feet made no sound against the wooden platform.
He knew her voice immediately.
"You."
The woman looked frightened.
Not of Joseph.
Of Victor.
She crossed the platform quickly.
"You have to leave."
Joseph glanced toward the ticket window.
Victor had lowered his head and resumed writing.
"You put your hand on me."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"To wake you."
"I wasn't asleep."
"You were close enough."
Joseph studied her.
"Who are you?"
"Ellie Bannor."
"Do you work here too?"
"No."
"Good. At least someone doesn't."
Ellie ignored the remark.
"You need to walk back the way you came."
"My automobile is dead."
"Then walk."
"It's the middle of the night."
"I know."
"There are miles of swamp between here and anything resembling civilization."
"I know."
Joseph frowned.
"You're doing a poor job of making the alternative sound worse."
Ellie stepped closer.
Her eyes moved toward the tracks.
"You don't understand where you are."
"I'm beginning to suspect nobody intends to explain it."
"Leave before the train arrives."
Joseph looked at Victor.
"Number Thirty-Three?"
Ellie's face changed.
"Who told you that?"
"Our cheerful stationmaster."
"Victor is not the stationmaster."
"What is he?"
Ellie looked toward the ticket window.
Victor had stopped writing.
He was listening.
Ellie lowered her voice.
"Someone who stayed too long."
Joseph looked between them.
"Stayed too long where?"
Ellie grabbed his wrist.
Her fingers were as cold as the hand that had touched his shoulder.
"Here."
A whistle sounded in the distance.
Ellie released him.
Victor stood behind the ticket window.
Joseph turned toward the tracks.
Far beyond the station, between the cypress trees, a light appeared.
It was small at first.
Then it grew.
The rails beneath Joseph's feet began to vibrate.
He stepped back.
"That's impossible."
Ellie stared toward the approaching light.
"No."
Her voice had become quiet.
"It's worse than that."
The whistle sounded again.
Steam rolled between the trees.
A locomotive emerged from the darkness.
It was black, massive and old. Its iron wheels struck the rails with a steady rhythm. Smoke poured from its stack and spread across the swamp canopy. A circular brass plate had been fixed to the front of the engine.
The number was clearly visible.
33.
Passenger cars followed behind it.
Lights burned in every window.
Joseph watched faces pass.
An elderly man.
A young soldier.
A woman holding a baby.
A boy in clothes several decades out of date.
Another woman.
Joseph's breath caught.
The woman had hair.
She had ears.
She had a neck.
Where her face should have been there was only smooth flesh.
Joseph stepped away from the track.
"What the hell?"
Ellie seized his arm.
"Do not speak to anyone on that train unless I tell you."
The locomotive slowed.
Metal groaned.
Steam covered the platform.
Number Thirty-Three stopped directly in front of them.
A door opened.
A man stepped down.
He wore a black conductor's uniform with polished brass buttons. He was tall and broad through the shoulders, with dark hair touched by gray and a neatly trimmed beard.
He adjusted his coat.
Then he looked directly at Joseph.
Ellie moved behind him.
The man's expression softened into a pleasant smile.
Victor Wilson stepped out of the station carrying his ledger.
"Evening, Mr. Blacke."
The conductor removed a pocket watch.
"Evening, Victor."
His eyes returned to Joseph.
"Gerald Blacke," he said.
Joseph did not answer.
Gerald put away his watch.
"Joseph James."
Joseph felt Ellie's fingers tighten around his arm.
"You know me?"
Gerald smiled.
"No, sir."
He reached inside his coat.
Ellie whispered one word.
"Run."
Gerald withdrew a railway ticket.
He held it between two fingers.
"But I knew your great-grandfather."
Joseph stared at the ticket.
His name was printed across it.
JOSEPH JAMES.
Gerald stepped aside and gestured toward the open door of Number Thirty-Three.
"We've been waiting a very long time for you."
Chapter 2
Joseph stared at the ticket in Gerald Blacke's hand.
His name had been printed neatly across the center.
JOSEPH JAMES.
Beneath it was another line.
SAINT MERCY.
Joseph looked at Gerald.
"I didn't buy that."
"No, sir."
"Then it isn't mine."
Gerald examined the ticket.
"It has your name on it."
"So does my birth certificate. I don't carry that around expecting people to punch holes in it."
Victor Wilson looked down at his ledger.
Ellie remained close to Joseph.
"Don't take it," she whispered.
Gerald heard her.
His eyes moved toward Ellie.
For the first time since stepping from the train, the conductor's pleasant expression disappeared.
"You should return to your carriage."
Ellie said nothing.
"Miss Bannor."
"No."
Gerald slowly returned his attention to Joseph.
"Your companion has always had difficulty following instructions."
"She isn't my companion."
"Give it time."
Gerald offered the ticket again.
Joseph kept his hands at his sides.
"Who bought it?"
Gerald smiled.
"An old account."
"Whose?"
"Yours."
"I don't have an account with a railway."
"You do with this one."
Steam drifted across the platform.
Joseph looked at Number Thirty-Three.
Up close, the locomotive appeared older than he had first realized. Brass fittings had darkened with age. Rivets covered the boiler. The iron wheels stood nearly as tall as Joseph.
Yet the machine showed no neglect.
Someone maintained it.
That bothered him more than rust would have.
Behind the locomotive waited six passenger cars and a final baggage carriage. Every window glowed yellow.
People sat inside.
Some watched him.
Others stared straight ahead.
Joseph searched for the faceless woman.
He could no longer see her.
"I'm not getting on that train."
Gerald lowered the ticket.
"That would be unfortunate."
"For whom?"
"You."
Joseph picked up his suitcase.
"Then I'll risk disappointing you."
He turned toward the road.
There was no road.
Joseph stopped.
The path he had followed through the trees was gone.
Swamp water covered the ground beyond the station.
He stared.
"No."
He walked to the end of the platform.
Cypress trees stood where the road should have been.
Black water stretched between them.
Joseph could see moonlight on its surface.
"My car is that way."
Ellie came beside him.
"Not anymore."
Joseph turned sharply.
"What does that mean?"
"It means you waited too long."
"People keep telling me that."
"I tried telling you sooner."
"You put a freezing hand on my shoulder and disappeared."
"I was hoping you'd have enough sense to run."
"You overestimated me."
Despite everything, Ellie almost smiled.
Gerald spoke behind them.
"All aboard."
The words carried along the platform.
Doors opened down the length of the train.
Joseph saw movement inside.
Passengers stood.
Not all of them moved naturally.
An old man rose from his seat and remained facing the wall.
A woman carrying a sleeping child stepped into the aisle.
A soldier adjusted his coat.
The faceless woman appeared at the window.
Joseph looked away.
"What happens if I stay here?"
Ellie did not answer.
"Ellie."
She looked toward Victor.
Joseph followed her gaze.
Victor stood beside the ticket office.
"What happens if he stays?" Ellie asked.
Victor closed his ledger.
"The station closes."
Joseph looked around.
"And?"
Victor's eyes settled upon him.
"You close with it."
"Meaning?"
"You remain until Number Thirty-Three returns."
"When does it return?"
Victor hesitated.
"A year."
Joseph stared at him.
"You expect me to believe that?"
"No."
Victor tucked the ledger beneath his arm.
"Belief has never affected the timetable."
Gerald checked his watch.
"Thirty seconds."
Joseph looked toward the swamp.
Then the train.
Then Ellie.
"Can I get off somewhere else?"
Ellie shook her head.
"Not easily."
"Can I get off here?"
"Not after it leaves."
"Wonderful choices."
Gerald called, "Twenty seconds."
Joseph picked up his suitcase.
Ellie stepped between him and the train.
"No."
"You just told me staying here traps me for a year."
"Getting aboard could trap you longer."
"Then you should have led with that."
Gerald smiled.
"Ten seconds."
Joseph looked at Ellie.
"Are you getting on?"
"I have to."
"Then I'm coming with you."
"You don't understand."
"No. I don't. And everyone seems determined to keep it that way."
Joseph walked past her.
Gerald held out the ticket.
Joseph ignored it and climbed the steps.
Gerald watched him enter.
"You'll need that."
"Keep it."
Gerald followed him aboard.
"I already have mine."
The door closed.
The train moved.
Joseph grabbed the nearest brass rail.
Number Thirty-Three pulled away from Saint Mercy.
Through the window, Joseph watched Victor standing beneath the station lamp.
The station began fading behind steam.
For several seconds Joseph could still see the building.
Then there was nothing.
Only swamp.
He turned.
The passenger car was silent.
Every person inside was looking at him.
Joseph counted fourteen.
Their clothing came from different periods.
The soldier wore an old American uniform. A young woman near the rear wore a dress Joseph remembered women wearing when he was a child. Another man had a suit that looked nearly new.
Nobody spoke.
Joseph lifted one hand.
"Evening."
Several passengers looked away.
Ellie entered behind him.
"I told you not to speak to them."
"I said evening."
"That counts."
"Why?"
"Because now they know you can see them."
Joseph lowered his voice.
"They were staring at me."
"Some of them were."
Joseph looked around.
"What does that mean?"
Ellie took his arm.
"Walk."
They moved into the next carriage.
Joseph followed reluctantly.
"Where are we going?"
"Somewhere quieter."
"The last car was silent."
"That doesn't make it quiet."
They entered a dining carriage.
Tables were set with white cloths, silverware and glasses. Lamps burned along the walls.
There was food on several plates.
It appeared fresh.
Joseph stopped beside one.
A thick piece of beef sat beside potatoes and green beans.
He had not eaten since afternoon.
"Don't," Ellie said.
"I wasn't."
"You were."
"I was looking."
"You were looking with your stomach."
Joseph continued walking.
"How long have you been here?"
Ellie stopped.
"Long enough."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the answer you're getting."
Joseph put down his suitcase.
"Then here's an easier one. What is this train?"
Ellie looked toward the door they had entered through.
"Number Thirty-Three."
"I gathered that."
"It left Saint Mercy in 1912."
Joseph waited.
"It never reached the next station."
"What happened?"
"Gerald Blacke."
"The conductor?"
"Yes."
"What did he do?"
Ellie looked uncomfortable.
"He made sure the train kept running."
"For a hundred years?"
"More."
Joseph studied her face.
"You expect me to accept that?"
"You watched a road disappear."
"Fair."
The carriage door opened.
Joseph turned.
The soldier entered.
He removed his cap.
"Miss Bannor."
Ellie relaxed slightly.
"Henry."
The soldier looked at Joseph.
"New?"
"Apparently."
"Sorry."
Joseph frowned.
"For what?"
Henry looked toward Ellie.
She shook her head.
"Don't."
Joseph stepped closer.
"No. Please. Someone on this train finally seems willing to speak plainly."
Henry swallowed.
"You still have your ticket?"
"I never took it."
Henry's expression changed.
"Blacke let you board without one?"
"Yes."
Henry backed away.
Ellie caught his arm.
"Henry."
"I don't want anything to do with this."
"Do with what?" Joseph asked.
Henry pulled free.
"Ask her."
He left.
Joseph watched the door close.
"Friendly fellow."
Ellie picked up Joseph's suitcase.
"We need to move."
"Why?"
"Because Henry is afraid."
"Of me?"
"No."
A noise came from the roof.
Joseph looked upward.
Something moved above them.
Three slow steps.
Then silence.
Joseph pointed.
"What was that?"
Ellie put one finger against her lips.
Another step sounded overhead.
Then another.
Whatever was on the roof stopped directly above Joseph.
He stared upward.
The ceiling creaked.
Ellie whispered, "Don't move."
Joseph did not.
Something scratched against the roof.
It moved toward the rear of the carriage.
Then stopped.
Joseph waited.
The sound disappeared.
Ellie exhaled.
"What was that?"
She did not answer.
"Ellie."
"Keep your voice down."
"Tell me."
She looked directly at him.
"The reason people call this train the Lutin."
"I thought that was its name."
"It is now."
A scream came from the next carriage.
Joseph grabbed the nearest table as the sound cut through the train.
It was a woman's scream.
Then it stopped.
Ellie ran.
Joseph followed.
They entered the passenger carriage.
People were standing.
A woman lay in the aisle.
Joseph recognized her.
She had been carrying the sleeping child.
The child was gone.
The woman sat up.
Joseph stopped.
Her hands moved frantically across her head.
There were no eyes beneath them.
No nose.
No mouth.
Her face was smooth.
Joseph stared.
"Dear God."
Ellie grabbed him.
"Don't look at anyone."
"What?"
"Look at me."
The passengers backed against the walls.
Joseph heard crying.
Somewhere farther down the train, a baby began to wail.
Joseph turned toward the sound.
At the far end of the carriage stood the woman whose face had just been taken.
Except she had a face.
She held the missing child against her chest.
She smiled at Joseph.
The faceless woman on the floor began making a terrible choking sound.
Joseph looked between them.
"Ellie."
"I know."
The other woman kissed the child's forehead.
Then she stepped backward through the carriage door.
Joseph started after her.
Ellie caught him.
"No."
"She has the child."
"That isn't her."
The train entered a curve.
Joseph could see through the windows into the next carriage.
The woman stood inside.
Still smiling.
Her face changed.
For only an instant, the features became someone else's.
An old man.
Then a young boy.
Then the woman again.
Joseph went still.
Ellie whispered beside him.
"Now you understand the rule."
Joseph watched the figure disappear into the next car.
"What rule?"
Ellie looked at him.
"Never trust a face."
The train whistle sounded.
The faceless woman crawled toward them.
Joseph knelt to help her.
Something white protruded from beneath a nearby seat.
Paper.
Joseph reached beneath it and pulled out an old folded sheet.
It was a passenger manifest.
The date printed at the top read:
OCTOBER 17, 1912.
Joseph unfolded it.
Names filled the page.
He scanned them.
Then stopped.
Halfway down the list was one he knew.
JERIMIAH JAMES.
Joseph read it twice.
His great-grandfather's name.
Beside it someone had written a single word in dark ink.
UNPAID.
Joseph looked at Ellie.
She was no longer watching the faceless woman.
She was staring at the manifest.
"Where did you get that?"
"Under the seat."
"Give it to me."
Joseph pulled it away.
"Who was Jerimiah James?"
Ellie said nothing.
"Don't tell me you don't know."
The door behind them opened.
Gerald Blacke stood there.
He looked at the paper in Joseph's hand.
His expression became very still.
Joseph held up the manifest.
"My great-grandfather was on this train."
Gerald entered the carriage.
"Yes."
"What does unpaid mean?"
Gerald looked toward the faceless woman.
Then toward the dark carriage where the thing wearing her face had disappeared.
When he looked back at Joseph, he was smiling again.
"It means, Mr. James, that Jerimiah left something behind."
Joseph folded the manifest.
"What?"
Gerald's smile widened.
"A debt."
The whistle of Number Thirty-Three screamed into the Louisiana night.
Gerald looked directly at Joseph.
"And now we have you."
Chapter 3
Joseph folded the passenger manifest and slipped it inside his coat.
Gerald Blacke watched him do it.
"I'll need that back."
"No."
"It belongs to the railway."
"My great-grandfather's name is written on it. For the moment, it belongs to me."
Gerald's smile remained.
Joseph was beginning to dislike that smile.
The faceless woman crawled across the floor behind them.
Joseph looked at her.
She had stopped making the choking sounds. Both hands moved across the smooth flesh where her eyes and mouth had been.
Nobody helped her.
"Can that be fixed?"
Gerald followed his gaze.
"No."
Joseph looked at him.
"You don't seem particularly concerned."
"I have learned to accept those things I cannot change."
"Convenient."
"Necessary."
Ellie stepped between them.
"Go back to your compartment, Gerald."
Joseph glanced at her.
Gerald did not.
"You continue to forget your place."
"I know exactly where my place is."
"Do you?"
"Better than you."
For several seconds neither moved.
There was something between them Joseph did not understand.
It was not simply fear.
Gerald looked at Ellie differently than he looked at the other passengers.
There was anger there.
And something older.
Gerald adjusted the cuff of his coat.
"We'll be reaching Saint Mercy before dawn."
"We left Saint Mercy," Joseph said.
Gerald looked at him.
"No, Mr. James. We left the station."
"What's the difference?"
"You'll see."
Gerald turned and walked toward the door.
Joseph called after him.
"Jerimiah James."
Gerald stopped.
"What did he owe you?"
Gerald looked back.
"Not me."
His eyes moved toward the dark carriage beyond them.
"Something much less forgiving."
He left.
Joseph waited until the door closed.
Then he looked at Ellie.
"You know what he means."
"Yes."
"Good. We're making progress."
Ellie crouched beside the faceless woman.
Joseph followed.
"What can we do for her?"
"Nothing tonight."
"Can she breathe?"
"She doesn't need to."
Joseph looked at Ellie.
"She's dead?"
Ellie touched the woman's shoulder.
"We all are."
Joseph stood.
"No."
Ellie looked up at him.
"You asked."
"You're dead?"
"Yes."
"Gerald?"
"Yes."
"Victor?"
Ellie hesitated.
"Mostly."
Joseph stared at her.
"Mostly?"
"Victor is complicated."
"Of course he is."
Joseph looked around the carriage.
Every passenger had returned to a seat.
Nobody looked toward the faceless woman.
They had seen this before.
Many times.
Joseph took the manifest from his coat.
"You said this train disappeared in 1912."
"Yes."
"My great-grandfather lived until 1958."
Ellie did not answer.
"I knew photographs of him. My father knew him."
"I believe you."
"Then how was he aboard a train where everyone died?"
"I don't know."
"Gerald knows."
"Gerald knows many things."
"Then I'll ask him."
Ellie stood quickly.
"No."
Joseph almost laughed.
"That seems to be your favorite word."
"Gerald wants you angry."
"He's doing excellent work."
"He wants you asking questions."
"That makes less sense."
"He cannot make you accept anything willingly if you don't understand what you're accepting."
Joseph looked at her.
"Accept what?"
Ellie's eyes dropped toward his coat.
"The debt."
The train jolted.
Lamps flickered.
Several passengers lowered their heads.
Joseph heard movement above them again.
The Lutin.
It crossed the roof slowly.
This time Joseph listened.
Four steps.
Pause.
Three more.
The sound stopped.
Ellie whispered, "Don't speak."
Joseph looked upward.
Something scraped against the metal.
Then came a voice.
"Joseph."
He froze.
The voice had come from above them.
A man's voice.
Old.
Weak.
"Joseph James."
Ellie grabbed his arm.
"Don't answer."
Joseph stared at the ceiling.
"Joseph."
The voice changed.
It became his mother's.
Joseph's face tightened.
Ellie shook her head.
"No."
The thing above them scratched the roof.
His mother's voice came again.
"Joseph, please."
He closed his eyes.
She had been dead eleven years.
He remembered the final months of her life. He remembered sitting beside her bed. He remembered her voice when she could barely speak.
This sounded exactly like her.
"Joseph."
He opened his eyes.
His fear was gone.
Anger replaced it.
"That's not my mother."
Ellie's grip tightened.
"I know."
The scratching stopped.
Something moved rapidly across the roof.
Then silence returned.
Joseph looked at Ellie.
"It knows me."
"It knows what you know."
"How?"
"I don't know."
"Has it taken my face?"
"No."
"Then how does it know my mother?"
Ellie looked toward the windows.
"Because it has worn the face of someone who knew her."
Joseph felt cold despite the warmth inside the carriage.
"Jerimiah."
Ellie said nothing.
Joseph took out the manifest.
"We find out what happened to him."
"How?"
"You've been on this train more than a hundred years."
"That doesn't mean I know everything aboard it."
"No. But you know where things are kept."
Ellie studied him.
Then she looked toward the rear of the train.
"The baggage car."
"What about it?"
"Gerald stores belongings there."
"From passengers?"
"From everyone."
"Since 1912?"
"Yes."
Joseph picked up his suitcase.
"Then we're going."
Ellie shook her head.
"The Lutin hunts near the rear."
"Why?"
"Because passengers don't go there."
"That seems like a good reason for us to go."
"You have a strange understanding of danger."
"My automobile died, I walked into a station that shouldn't exist, boarded a train full of dead people and watched something steal a woman's face. My standards have changed."
Ellie stared at him.
Then she smiled despite herself.
"Stay close."
They moved through the train.
The next carriage was empty.
Joseph did not like that.
The carriage after it contained sleeping passengers.
Some breathed.
Some did not.
One man sat upright with his eyes open.
Joseph avoided looking at him.
They reached the dining car.
The plates of food were still warm.
"Who cooks this?"
Ellie kept walking.
"You don't want to know."
"Fair enough."
Beyond the dining car was a narrow corridor lined with private compartments.
Joseph heard whispers behind several doors.
At the far end stood a locked door.
Ellie stopped.
"Baggage car."
Joseph tried the handle.
Locked.
"Gerald has the key?"
"Yes."
Joseph put down his suitcase.
He examined the lock.
Ellie watched.
"What are you doing?"
"Disappointing Gerald."
Joseph removed a narrow metal file from his suitcase.
"You carry that with you?"
"I travel."
"Do travelers commonly break into railway baggage cars?"
"The prepared ones do."
Joseph worked the lock.
It clicked.
Ellie stared at him.
Joseph opened the door.
"You learn things when you have bad friends."
The baggage car was dark.
Ellie found a lantern hanging beside the door and lit it.
Rows of shelves appeared.
Suitcases.
Trunks.
Boxes.
Coats.
Hats.
Walking sticks.
Hundreds of objects filled the carriage.
Some were nearly new.
Others were ancient.
Joseph stepped inside.
"All passengers?"
"Most."
He ran his fingers across a leather trunk.
A brass tag was attached.
1954.
Another read 1928.
Another 1971.
Joseph moved deeper into the car.
"How many people has this train taken?"
Ellie did not answer.
Near the rear stood a cabinet.
Joseph opened it.
Books filled the shelves.
Ledgers.
Bibles.
Journals.
He removed one.
SAINT MERCY PARISH.
Joseph looked at Ellie.
"Church records."
He opened it.
The first page bore a handwritten name.
FATHER FARREL LOUIS.
Ellie came closer.
"I remember him."
"You knew him?"
"He was the priest at Saint Mercy."
Joseph turned pages.
Baptisms.
Marriages.
Deaths.
Then the handwriting changed.
The entries became longer.
October 3, 1912.
Joseph read quietly.
"Blacke came again tonight."
Ellie moved beside him.
Joseph continued.
"He asked about the old stories. I told him some things should remain stories."
He turned the page.
October 9.
"Blacke has become convinced that the creature can preserve life."
Joseph looked at Ellie.
"What creature?"
She stared at the journal.
"The Lutin."
Joseph read on.
"He misunderstands its nature. It preserves nothing. It borrows. It copies. It takes what belongs to another and wears it until there is nothing left to remember."
A sound came from the roof.
Joseph stopped reading.
Ellie raised the lantern.
Nothing moved.
Joseph turned another page.
October 16.
The final entry.
"If Gerald attempts what he described, Number Thirty-Three must not leave Saint Mercy. Jerimiah James believes he can stop him. I have given Jerimiah the only instruction I can."
Joseph's hands tightened around the journal.
"What instruction?"
The next page had been torn out.
Joseph stared at the ragged edge.
"Someone removed it."
Ellie looked toward the front of the car.
"Gerald."
Joseph examined the binding.
A small portion of paper remained near the spine.
Something had been written along its edge.
One word remained.
PUNCH.
Joseph frowned.
"What punch?"
Ellie's face changed.
"The conductor's punch."
"What about it?"
"Gerald used one when we boarded."
"We?"
Ellie ignored the question.
"He punched every ticket himself."
Joseph remembered Gerald holding his ticket on the platform.
"He wanted me to take mine."
"Yes."
"But he let me board without it."
"He needs you aboard first."
"For what?"
Ellie stared at him.
"To mark you."
A noise came from the rear of the baggage car.
Both turned.
Someone stood between the shelves.
Joseph could barely see the figure.
An elderly man.
He wore a dark suit.
His white hair was neatly combed.
Joseph stared.
He knew that face.
He had seen it in family photographs.
The man stepped into the lantern light.
Joseph stopped breathing.
"Jerimiah?"
Ellie grabbed him.
"Joseph, don't."
The old man smiled.
"Been a long time, boy."
Joseph could not move.
The voice was wrong.
He had never heard Jerimiah James speak.
Yet something inside him recognized the face.
His father's eyes.
His grandfather's jaw.
His own nose.
"Are you Jerimiah James?"
The old man nodded.
"I've been waiting for you."
Ellie whispered, "Ask him something."
Joseph looked at her.
"Something only Jerimiah would know."
Joseph turned back.
The old man waited.
Joseph thought.
Then remembered a story his father had told him many times.
"My grandfather had a dog when he was a boy."
Jerimiah's smile remained.
"What was its name?"
The old man said nothing.
Joseph waited.
The smile widened.
Too wide.
Ellie pulled Joseph backward.
The man's face moved.
His skin shifted.
Jerimiah's nose disappeared.
His jaw narrowed.
His eyes changed.
For an instant he became Joseph's mother.
Then Gerald Blacke.
Then the faceless woman.
Then Jerimiah again.
Joseph backed toward the door.
The thing laughed.
Not with one voice.
With many.
Ellie raised the lantern.
"Run."
The Lutin lunged.
Joseph slammed the baggage door.
Something struck the other side hard enough to shake the frame.
Ellie turned the key.
Another impact came.
Joseph grabbed his suitcase.
"Move."
They ran.
Behind them wood cracked.
The Lutin screamed.
Joseph and Ellie reached the next carriage as the baggage door burst open.
They slammed the corridor door behind them.
Joseph leaned against it.
Ellie stood beside him, breathing heavily although Joseph now knew she had no reason to breathe.
He looked at the journal still clutched in his hand.
Then at the manifest inside his coat.
"That thing has Jerimiah's face."
Ellie said nothing.
Joseph opened Father Farrel Louis's journal again.
He stared at the torn page.
"The journal says Jerimiah was going to stop Gerald."
"Yes."
"And my family says Jerimiah came home."
Ellie looked toward the door.
Joseph understood what she was thinking.
"No."
Neither spoke.
From the other side of the door came three gentle knocks.
Then Jerimiah James's voice.
"Joseph."
Joseph stared at Ellie.
The voice continued.
"You want to know what happened that night?"
Joseph tightened his grip on the journal.
"Come ask me."
The lamps went out.
Darkness filled the carriage.
Then the voice spoke again.
This time directly beside Joseph's ear.
"I remember everything."
Clarify the train's Saint Mercy timelineMake the punch's supernatural purpose clearer
Chapter 4
Joseph swung Father Farrel Louis's journal at the voice.
He hit nothing.
The book passed through darkness and struck the wall.
Ellie grabbed his coat.
"Move."
"Where?"
"Away from here."
"Excellent plan."
They ran.
Joseph kept one hand against the wall as they moved through the dark carriage. He heard the wheels beneath them and the steady rattle of windows in their frames.
Something followed.
Not footsteps.
Breathing.
Slow.
Close.
Joseph reached the door.
He found the handle and pulled.
Locked.
"Ellie."
"I know."
She pushed past him and tried it.
The breathing stopped.
Joseph turned.
Nothing.
He could not see the other end of the carriage.
Then his mother's voice spoke.
"Joseph."
He closed his eyes.
"Not this time."
"Please."
"No."
A second voice joined hers.
His father's.
"Son."
Joseph faced the darkness.
"Neither of you."
Then came Jerimiah's voice.
"You don't know that."
Joseph reached into his pocket and found his matches.
He struck one.
The flame appeared.
A face hung inches from his own.
His face.
Joseph stumbled backward.
The thing smiled at him with his own mouth.
Ellie screamed.
Joseph dropped the match.
Darkness returned.
Something struck him.
He hit the floor.
Ellie shouted his name.
Joseph rolled beneath a seat as fingers reached for his coat.
Another match flared.
Ellie held it.
The aisle was empty.
"Joseph."
"Here."
He crawled out.
Ellie helped him stand.
"Did you see it?"
"Unfortunately."
"It hasn't taken your face."
"It looked convincing."
"It can copy what it sees. Taking one is different."
"What's the difference?"
"If it takes yours, you don't get it back."
"Good distinction."
The match burned close to Ellie's fingers.
She dropped it.
The lights came on.
Both froze.
The carriage was empty.
The door ahead stood open.
Joseph looked at Ellie.
"That wasn't open."
"No."
"Do we use it?"
"We don't have another."
They moved through.
The next car was different.
There were no seats.
Metal doors lined both sides of a narrow corridor.
Joseph stopped.
"What is this?"
Ellie's face tightened.
"We shouldn't be here."
"That sentence has applied since I reached the station."
She walked to the nearest door.
A small square window had been cut into it.
Ellie looked through.
Then stepped away.
Joseph approached.
"Don't."
He looked anyway.
Three people sat inside.
A man.
A woman.
A young boy.
All three were faceless.
Joseph moved to the next door.
Five more.
The next contained one.
The next contained seven.
Some wore clothing from the previous century. Others appeared to have arrived much more recently.
Joseph stepped back.
"How many?"
"I don't know."
"You've been here since 1912."
"I don't come into this car."
"Why?"
"Because I know what's inside."
Joseph stared through another window.
An elderly faceless man stood against the glass.
His palms pressed against it.
Joseph looked at Ellie.
"Why doesn't Gerald help them?"
"He can't."
"Or won't?"
"Both."
Joseph continued down the corridor.
One door was different.
There was no window.
A heavy chain had been wrapped around its handle.
Joseph touched it.
"What's in there?"
Ellie went pale.
"I don't know."
Joseph examined the lock.
"Then let's find out."
"No."
He looked at her.
"Why?"
"Because Gerald chained it."
"That increases my interest."
"Joseph."
He removed the metal file from his suitcase.
"You are going to get us killed."
"You've already informed me that you're dead."
"You aren't."
"Then you have less to lose."
Ellie stared at him.
"That was cruel."
Joseph stopped working the lock.
"You're right."
He looked at her.
"I'm sorry."
Ellie nodded.
Joseph returned to the lock.
"Still opening it."
"I assumed."
The lock clicked.
Joseph removed the chain.
Ellie stepped behind him.
He opened the door.
The compartment was dark.
Someone sat inside.
Joseph raised the lantern.
An old man lifted his head.
He had no face.
Joseph nearly closed the door.
Then the man stood.
Something hung around his neck.
A small silver medal.
Joseph recognized it.
His father had owned one exactly like it.
So had his grandfather.
Saint Christopher.
The old man approached.
Joseph did not move.
"Jerimiah?"
The faceless man stopped.
Joseph swallowed.
"My name is Joseph James."
The man's hands began trembling.
Ellie came closer.
"Joseph."
He raised one hand.
"My father was William James. His father was Benjamin James."
The faceless man reached toward him.
Joseph allowed it.
Cold fingers touched his cheek.
The old man dropped to his knees.
His body shook.
Joseph looked at Ellie.
"This is him."
"We don't know that."
Joseph crouched.
"Jerimiah."
The man lifted his head.
Joseph thought about the question he had asked the Lutin.
"My grandfather had a dog."
The faceless man raised one finger.
He scratched letters into the dust on the floor.
B.
Then E.
Then S.
Then S.
Joseph watched.
I.
E.
BESSIE.
Joseph sat back.
"My father told me that story."
Jerimiah reached for him again.
Joseph took his hand.
"You never came home."
Jerimiah shook his head.
Joseph looked at Ellie.
"Then what did?"
Neither needed to answer.
Joseph stood.
"The Lutin."
Ellie nodded.
"It wore his face."
"For how long?"
"I don't know."
"My family knew him. My grandfather grew up with him."
Joseph looked at Jerimiah.
"That thing lived in my family's house."
Ellie said nothing.
"It raised his children."
Jerimiah struck the floor with his fist.
Joseph looked down.
The old man wrote again.
PUNCH.
Joseph crouched.
"The brass punch?"
Jerimiah nodded.
"Where is it?"
Jerimiah pointed toward the front of the train.
"Gerald has it?"
Jerimiah shook his head.
He wrote another word.
LEDGER.
Joseph took out Father Farrel Louis's journal.
"Father Louis wrote about it."
Jerimiah grabbed the journal.
He turned pages quickly until he reached the torn sheet.
Then he pointed to it.
"You tore this out?"
Jerimiah nodded.
"Why?"
The old man wrote slowly.
BLACKE.
Joseph understood.
"To keep Gerald from finding it."
Jerimiah nodded.
"Where's the page?"
Jerimiah touched his chest.
Joseph frowned.
"You have it?"
Jerimiah opened his coat.
A folded piece of yellow paper had been sewn into the lining.
Joseph carefully removed it.
He unfolded the page.
Father Farrel Louis's handwriting covered both sides.
Joseph read.
"The punch does not merely mark passage. Blacke has used it to bind each traveler to the agreement. A name marked in the conductor's ledger belongs to Number Thirty-Three until the mark is broken."
Ellie moved closer.
Joseph continued.
"If Jerimiah can obtain both the punch and ledger, the agreement may be undone."
Joseph looked up.
"That's it."
Ellie shook her head.
"Keep reading."
Joseph did.
"The creature will resist. Each face it takes strengthens its place among us. Restore the names and it will lose what it has stolen."
Joseph folded the page.
"The ledger."
Jerimiah nodded.
"Where?"
The old man pointed forward.
"Gerald's compartment."
A slow clap came from behind them.
Joseph stood.
Gerald Blacke waited at the end of the corridor.
"Very good."
Ellie stepped forward.
Gerald looked at her.
"I expected better from you."
"You always did."
Joseph glanced between them.
Gerald's face hardened.
"Return to your carriage, Ellie."
Joseph looked at her.
"Ellie?"
She closed her eyes.
Gerald smiled.
"She hasn't told you."
"Told me what?"
"Gerald."
"Why keep secrets now?"
Joseph turned toward Ellie.
"What is he talking about?"
Ellie looked at him.
"My name wasn't always Bannor."
Joseph waited.
"My mother was a Bannor."
Gerald stepped closer.
"But her father was a Blacke."
Joseph looked at Gerald.
Then Ellie.
"No."
Ellie nodded.
"Gerald Blacke is my father."
Silence filled the corridor.
Joseph looked at Gerald.
"You put your own daughter on this train?"
Gerald's jaw tightened.
"She was supposed to leave."
"You marked my ticket."
Ellie faced him.
"You marked everyone's ticket."
"I saved you."
"You condemned me."
"I kept you alive."
"I'm dead."
Gerald shouted, "You are here!"
The faceless prisoners began striking their doors.
Gerald looked around.
"Stop."
The pounding continued.
"Stop!"
Joseph stepped between him and Ellie.
"You made the bargain."
Gerald stared at him.
"You know nothing about it."
"I know enough."
"No. You know what a frightened priest wrote in a book."
"And Jerimiah?"
Gerald looked toward the faceless man.
"He betrayed us."
Jerimiah charged.
Gerald drew a revolver.
Joseph hit his arm.
The gun fired.
Glass shattered.
Jerimiah slammed Gerald against the wall.
Ellie screamed.
Gerald struck Jerimiah across the head.
Joseph grabbed the conductor.
They fell into the corridor.
The train lurched.
A whistle screamed.
Gerald froze.
Everyone did.
Outside the windows, there were no longer trees.
There were houses.
Dark buildings stood in black water.
A church steeple rose above the flooded street.
Ellie looked outside.
"We're here."
Joseph climbed to his feet.
"Where?"
Gerald began laughing.
"Saint Mercy."
Joseph stared through the window.
The drowned town stretched ahead.
Number Thirty-Three traveled along tracks beneath several inches of water.
Gerald wiped blood from his mouth.
"You've run out of time."
He reached into his coat.
This time he did not draw the revolver.
He removed a brass railway punch.
Joseph stared at it.
Gerald smiled.
"Jerimiah stole this from me once."
Jerimiah backed away.
Joseph looked at him.
"You said Gerald didn't have it."
Jerimiah shook his head violently.
Gerald laughed.
"He didn't."
Joseph understood.
The thing that had returned home wearing Jerimiah's face had taken the punch with it.
Gerald looked toward the ceiling.
"It brought it back."
A heavy impact sounded above them.
Then another.
The Lutin moved across the roof.
Gerald raised the brass punch.
"Your great-grandfather owed us a passenger."
Joseph backed away.
Gerald advanced.
"One marked James for one escaped James."
"Jerimiah didn't escape."
Gerald stopped.
Joseph pointed toward the faceless old man.
"He's right there."
For the first time, Gerald looked uncertain.
Then something dropped outside the window.
A face appeared against the glass.
Joseph's face.
It smiled at him.
Ellie screamed.
The Lutin crawled along the outside of the train, wearing Joseph's features.
Gerald stared.
"No."
The creature tapped on the glass.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then it spoke through Joseph's mouth.
"Mine."
Gerald raised the punch.
"No. Not yet."
The Lutin's smile disappeared.
The glass shattered inward.
Everyone dropped.
The creature entered the carriage.
It stood slowly.
Joseph found himself staring at his own face.
The Lutin looked at Gerald.
Then at the brass punch.
Then back at Joseph.
Gerald stepped between them.
"Not until he's marked."
The Lutin tilted its head.
Gerald held out the punch.
"We have an agreement."
The creature smiled.
Its face changed.
Gerald Blacke stared back at himself.
Then Ellie.
Then Jerimiah.
Then Joseph.
It spoke with all four voices at once.
"Agreements change."
The train whistle screamed.
Outside, the drowned church of Saint Mercy passed the windows.
Gerald looked toward it.
His face went pale.
Joseph saw fear in him for the first time.
"What happens at the church?" Joseph asked.
Ellie stared outside.
"We reach the end of the line."
Gerald grabbed Joseph by the coat.
He pressed the brass punch against the ticket he had carried since the station.
Joseph fought him.
Gerald squeezed.
The punch snapped shut.
A single hole appeared through Joseph's printed name.
The Lutin screamed.
Every lamp aboard Number Thirty-Three went out.
In the darkness, Gerald whispered into Joseph's ear.
"Now it can take your face."
Clarify the ledger and punch rulesStrengthen Jerimiah’s emotional reunion
Chapter 5
Joseph heard the brass punch snap shut.
Then darkness.
Gerald's hand remained twisted into the front of his coat.
"Now it can take your face."
Joseph drove his fist into Gerald's stomach.
Gerald released him.
Joseph hit him again.
Someone screamed.
The train lurched hard enough to throw everyone against the wall.
Joseph fell across two seats.
Glass broke somewhere behind him.
Then came laughter.
His laughter.
Joseph raised his head.
He could see nothing.
"Ellie?"
"I'm here."
"Jerimiah?"
A hand touched his leg.
Joseph pulled away.
He remembered Ellie's warning.
Never trust a face.
Now he could not trust a hand either.
A match struck.
Gerald stood in the aisle.
He held the flame beneath his face.
Blood ran from his lower lip.
"Enough."
Something moved behind him.
Gerald did not see it.
Joseph did.
"Gerald."
The conductor turned.
The match went out.
Gerald screamed.
Something dragged him backward.
Joseph heard shoes striking the floor.
Then silence.
The lamps came on.
Gerald was gone.
The brass punch lay in the aisle.
Joseph grabbed it.
Ellie appeared beside him.
"Joseph."
He pointed the punch toward her.
She stopped.
"Tell me something."
"What?"
"Something only you know."
Ellie stared at him.
"You called Victor our cheerful stationmaster."
Joseph lowered the punch.
"Good enough."
Jerimiah emerged from between the seats.
Joseph looked at the faceless man.
"Bessie."
Jerimiah nodded.
"Good."
A whistle screamed from the locomotive.
Number Thirty-Three increased speed.
Outside, Saint Mercy passed the windows.
The town was larger than Joseph expected.
Houses stood half submerged in swamp water. Wooden porches had collapsed. Trees grew through roofs. A general store leaned against another building.
The church stood ahead.
Its steeple remained above the water.
The tracks led directly toward it.
"How much time?" Joseph asked.
Ellie looked outside.
"Minutes."
"The ledger."
Jerimiah pointed toward the front of the train.
Joseph picked up his suitcase.
Ellie looked at him.
"You're bringing that?"
"I've carried it this far."
They ran.
The first carriage was empty.
So was the second.
Joseph stopped.
"Where is everyone?"
Ellie looked behind them.
"Hiding."
"From what?"
A door opened ahead.
Joseph saw himself standing there.
His double smiled.
"That."
The Lutin stepped into the aisle.
Joseph stared at his own face.
The resemblance was perfect.
Same hair.
Same coat.
Same scar beneath the chin.
It even carried a leather suitcase.
Joseph looked down at his own.
"That's irritating."
The Lutin smiled.
"You always talk when you're frightened?"
It had his voice.
Joseph tightened his grip on the brass punch.
"Usually more."
The creature looked at the punch.
Its smile disappeared.
Ellie whispered, "Joseph."
"I see it."
The Lutin took one step forward.
Joseph raised the punch.
It stopped.
"You don't know how to use that."
Joseph stared at it.
"Apparently you aren't certain."
The creature's face changed.
His mother stood before him.
"Joseph."
He did not move.
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Please."
"No."
"You left me."
Joseph's jaw tightened.
"I was there."
"You could have done more."
"I was there."
She stepped closer.
"You let me die."
Joseph raised the punch.
"My mother never blamed me."
The face changed.
Jerimiah.
Then Victor Wilson.
Then the faceless woman.
Then Ellie.
Joseph glanced beside him.
The real Ellie remained there.
The creature wearing her face smiled.
"Which one am I?"
Joseph answered immediately.
"The ugly one."
Ellie looked at him.
"Really?"
"It seemed appropriate."
The Lutin attacked.
Joseph threw the suitcase.
It struck the creature in the chest.
Jerimiah charged.
The Lutin caught him and threw him against a seat.
Ellie grabbed Joseph.
"Run!"
They pushed through the next door.
Joseph slammed it behind them.
The Lutin struck the glass.
A crack spread across it.
Joseph and Ellie ran.
"The conductor's compartment."
"Two cars."
Another impact.
Glass shattered behind them.
They reached the dining carriage.
The tables were overturned.
Plates crashed to the floor as Number Thirty-Three increased speed.
Joseph looked through a window.
The church was getting closer.
"One car."
A figure stepped from the kitchen.
Gerald.
His coat was torn.
Blood covered one side of his face.
Joseph raised the punch.
Gerald raised both hands.
"It's me."
"Prove it."
Gerald stared at him.
"I punched your ticket."
"The Lutin saw that."
Gerald looked at Ellie.
"I'm your father."
"The Lutin knows that."
Gerald's expression hardened.
"I told you to leave Saint Mercy on October seventeenth, 1912. You refused because your mother was buried behind Father Louis's church and you said you would not abandon her."
Ellie went still.
Joseph looked at her.
She nodded.
"It's him."
Gerald lowered his hands.
"Give me the punch."
"No."
"Joseph, you don't understand what you're doing."
"I'm becoming tired of hearing that."
"If you break the agreement, Number Thirty-Three ends."
"Good."
"So do they."
He pointed toward Ellie.
Joseph looked at her.
Gerald stepped closer.
"Every soul aboard this train exists because of the agreement."
"According to you."
"According to the man who made it."
Ellie faced her father.
"You didn't save us."
Gerald looked at her.
"I saved you."
"You kept me."
"I would not lose my daughter."
"You lost me the night you marked my ticket."
Gerald's face tightened.
"You were dying."
"I died anyway."
"You remained."
"Here."
Ellie gestured around them.
"For one hundred and fourteen years."
Gerald said nothing.
"You call that saving me?"
"I couldn't let you go."
"That was your choice."
Ellie's voice remained calm.
"It was never mine."
Gerald looked away.
Joseph walked toward the forward door.
Gerald blocked him.
"Move."
"No."
Joseph raised the punch.
Gerald drew his revolver.
Ellie stepped between them.
"Father."
Gerald looked at her.
The word stopped him.
Ellie had never called him that in Joseph's presence.
"Let him finish it."
Gerald's hand trembled.
"If he does, you leave."
"Yes."
"I won't see you again."
"No."
Gerald closed his eyes.
The door behind them exploded inward.
The Lutin entered.
It wore Ellie's face.
Gerald fired.
The bullet struck it in the chest.
The creature stumbled.
Then laughed.
Its face changed to Gerald's.
"You always were a poor shot."
It rushed him.
Gerald fired again.
Joseph grabbed Ellie and ran.
They entered the next carriage.
The conductor's compartment stood ahead.
Joseph kicked the door.
Locked.
He kicked again.
Nothing.
Ellie shouted, "Joseph!"
Gerald screamed behind them.
Joseph stepped back and drove his shoulder into the door.
The frame cracked.
He hit it again.
The door opened.
They entered.
A desk had been bolted to the floor.
A large leather ledger rested upon it.
Joseph grabbed it.
He opened the cover.
Names.
Hundreds.
Each accompanied by a punched mark.
Some dated from 1912.
Others from every decade since.
Joseph turned pages.
"How do I break them?"
Ellie unfolded Father Farrel Louis's torn page.
She read quickly.
"Reverse the mark."
"How?"
"I don't know."
Joseph examined the brass punch.
A small metal lever sat near the hinge.
He pulled it.
The punch rotated.
A second symbol appeared beneath it.
"Found it."
The door slammed open.
Gerald fell inside.
He kicked it closed.
"Do it."
Joseph looked at him.
Gerald was bleeding badly.
"The Lutin?"
"Busy."
"With what?"
"Jerimiah."
Joseph moved toward the door.
Gerald grabbed him.
"No. Finish it."
Joseph returned to the ledger.
He placed the punch over the first marked name.
Gerald watched.
"Wait."
Joseph looked at him.
Gerald stared at Ellie.
"Will you remember me?"
Ellie stepped closer.
"Yes."
"Even after?"
"Yes."
Gerald nodded.
Joseph squeezed the punch.
Snap.
A scream echoed through Number Thirty-Three.
Joseph looked up.
Ellie smiled.
"Again."
Joseph punched the next name.
Snap.
Another scream.
He worked faster.
Name after name.
Mark after mark.
The train shook violently.
Outside the compartment, people began shouting.
Joseph looked through the window.
The faceless woman stood in the corridor.
Her mouth returned first.
She screamed.
Then her nose.
Her eyes.
She touched her face.
She began crying.
Joseph punched another name.
And another.
Across the train, faces returned.
The Lutin screamed.
Its stolen voices filled every carriage.
Joseph continued.
The church was close.
"Faster!" Ellie shouted.
Joseph turned pages.
His hand hurt.
He kept going.
Then he found it.
JERIMIAH JAMES.
UNPAID.
Joseph stopped.
Jerimiah appeared in the doorway.
The old man leaned against the frame.
The Lutin had torn his coat and broken one arm.
Joseph looked at him.
Jerimiah nodded.
Joseph positioned the punch.
Snap.
Jerimiah fell.
"Jerimiah!"
Joseph ran to him.
The old man's hands covered his face.
Slowly, fingers appeared.
Then lips.
A nose.
Eyes.
Jerimiah James looked up.
Joseph had seen that face in photographs his entire life.
The real face.
Jerimiah touched his mouth.
His lips trembled.
"Joseph."
Joseph crouched beside him.
"You can speak."
Jerimiah laughed.
It became a sob.
"I wondered what my voice sounded like."
Joseph helped him sit.
"Did you escape?"
Jerimiah shook his head.
"No."
"What went home?"
Jerimiah looked toward the corridor.
"That thing."
"How long?"
"Long enough."
Joseph thought of generations of his family.
Jerimiah squeezed his arm.
"Don't carry what it did."
Joseph looked at him.
"It wasn't us."
The train shook.
The church filled the forward windows.
Ellie shouted, "Joseph!"
He returned to the ledger.
Only a few names remained.
He punched them.
One.
Two.
Three.
Then Ellie Bannor.
Joseph looked at her.
She smiled.
"Do it."
Gerald stepped forward.
"Wait."
Ellie turned.
Gerald looked at his daughter.
For once there was no command in his voice.
"Ellie."
She approached him.
Gerald touched her cheek.
"I'm sorry."
Ellie covered his hand with hers.
"I know."
Joseph punched her name.
Snap.
Ellie gasped.
Her body became faint.
Gerald reached for her.
She remained.
"Not yet," she whispered.
Joseph turned the final page.
One name remained.
GERALD BLACKE.
Joseph stared.
Gerald saw it.
"No."
Ellie looked at the ledger.
"Father."
Gerald backed away.
"No."
Joseph understood.
"You marked yourself."
Gerald shook his head.
"The agreement required a conductor."
"You weren't protected from it."
"I controlled it."
A voice came from the corridor.
"No."
The Lutin stood there.
It had changed.
Its body was thin and bent. Its arms were too long. Its fingers ended in dark nails. Patches of stolen skin covered its head, each holding pieces of different faces that appeared and disappeared as Joseph watched.
It no longer had enough stolen identities to hide itself.
Gerald raised his revolver.
The Lutin smiled with half a mouth.
"You fed me."
Gerald fired.
The creature did not stop.
"You carried me."
Gerald fired again.
"You promised me."
Gerald looked at Joseph.
"Don't punch it."
Joseph placed the brass tool over Gerald's name.
"Joseph."
The Lutin entered.
Gerald backed against the wall.
"Joseph!"
Joseph squeezed.
Snap.
Gerald screamed.
The Lutin seized him.
Ellie turned away.
Gerald disappeared beneath the creature.
Number Thirty-Three left the rails.
Joseph hit the floor.
Wood split.
Windows shattered.
Steam filled the compartment.
Jerimiah grabbed Joseph.
"Go!"
"What about you?"
"My journey ended a long time ago."
Joseph looked at Ellie.
She was fading.
"Joseph."
She held out her hand.
He took it.
They ran.
Number Thirty-Three tore through Saint Mercy.
Passengers disappeared around them.
Some laughed.
Some cried.
Some simply closed their eyes.
Jerimiah stood in the corridor.
Joseph stopped.
His great-grandfather smiled.
"Go home."
Joseph nodded.
Jerimiah disappeared.
Ellie pulled Joseph toward the rear platform.
The Saint Mercy station appeared ahead.
Impossible.
Joseph no longer cared.
"Jump!" Ellie shouted.
They jumped.
Joseph struck the platform and rolled.
His shoulder hit hard.
He heard Number Thirty-Three thunder past.
Joseph looked up.
Ellie stood beside the tracks.
The train entered the swamp.
The locomotive disappeared first.
Then the passenger cars.
The final carriage vanished into darkness.
The whistle sounded once.
Then nothing.
Joseph looked at Ellie.
Morning light appeared through the cypress trees.
She was nearly transparent.
"Are you leaving?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
Ellie smiled.
"I've spent more than a century on a train, Joseph. I'm content not knowing the destination."
He laughed quietly.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"The hand on my shoulder."
"You should have listened."
"I know."
"You are remarkably difficult to warn."
"I've been told."
Ellie looked toward the sunrise.
Then she disappeared.
Joseph sat alone.
The station was abandoned again.
The lamps were dark.
The ticket window had been boarded shut.
Victor Wilson was gone.
The station clock read 12:18.
It did not move.
Joseph stood.
His suitcase lay near the bench.
He picked it up.
The parish road had returned.
Joseph began walking.
He had gone perhaps fifty yards when he heard it.
A railway whistle.
Joseph stopped.
He looked back.
The tracks were empty.
Rust covered them.
Weeds grew between the ties.
Something white lay on the platform.
Joseph returned.
A railway ticket.
He picked it up.
NUMBER 33.
THE LUTIN.
Joseph turned it over.
No name.
No destination.
He stared down the tracks.
Deep within the Louisiana swamp, something moved between the cypress trees.
Joseph put the ticket back where he found it.
Then he walked away.
This time, when the whistle sounded, he did not turn around.
Clarify what happens to GeraldStrengthen the Lutin’s final defeat
THE END
That is the end of The Lutin. Thanks for reading.
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