An online novel by Gillette Edmunds

“Don’t hurt them,” Barbara said.

“I could kill them,” he said, “but don’t worry, I have them under control.” Afraid to let down his guard, he wiped sweat from his forehead with his shoulder by bending his neck down to his short, white sleeve. Sonya hates me to do that, he thought, then quickly, he shoved his slipping glasses back onto the bridge of his nose and held his hands out again.

As the little girls bunched together, Michael took Barbara’s hand and led her slowly past, facing them at every step. When they were two steps beyond the girls, they ran to the end of the hall. A train was loading up. Barbara and Michael slipped inside the closing doors.

They stood, holding crusty leather straps, bumping against the French. All the French had dark eyes and hair and all seemed to be staring at them and talking among themselves about them. The sweet, repulsive odor of human excrement seeped into the car from the leaky tunnel. Only a thin man near the far door was not talking. His yellow, brown skin and very thin face protruded from a three piece, blue suit as his glowing, almond shaped eyes stared out at the tunnel flashing by. He was not one of the French. He did not look poor.

“He must know where the train is going,” Michael said to Barbara.

“He has to,” she yelled above the noise.