Penult by A. Sparrow

Inverness, I
almost had to pry Karla off the seat. She didn’t want to leave the
train. She looked and acted stoned, though I knew
better.
    We waited for everyone else to exit
first. I hovered by the door, scanning the platform for those
solitary young men—the watchers—who I got into the habit of looking
for in the days when Sergei had a bounty on my head. But Sergei was
dead, and I seriously doubted that his successors had nearly the
emotional investment that Sergei had put into finding me,
especially when they saw the cost of Sergei’s obsession.
    “ Sturgie says he and his
friends can help us. You have a picture of Izzie,
right?”
    “ Yes.”
    “ We can go to a copy shop,
make a flyer. Promise a reward for information. But maybe we don’t
post them just anywhere. We hand them out to Sturgie’s friends. We
don’t want your Dad’s people to know we’re looking for
her.”
    “ It was a mistake, coming
here,” said Karla.
    “ Why do you say
that?”
    “ I just wish we hadn’t
come. I don’t like this place. Too much bad happens
here.”
    “ Oh, stop. It’s time we
make some good memories here. It’s not a bad town. It’s not the
city’s fault.”
    I led her onto the platform heading
for the one exit before reversing course and heading in the
opposite direction. A young man stood alone beside a waste bin,
clothes rumpled, hair frazzled, his expression distant and
vacant.
    A watcher? Perhaps not. But old habits
die hard.
    ***
    Sturgie had apologized profusely in
advance for not being able to meet us with a car. His plan was to
shuttle us back to his flat on the back of his motorcycle so we
could wash up before heading across the river to the pub. I had
texted him the minute we pulled into Inverness station, but he had
yet to respond.
    We left the station and waited outside
on the corner where he had told us to meet him. It drizzled just
like in Edinburgh, but here it wafted with the wind weightless, in
no hurry to meet the ground. We huddled together under an awning
and waited as the damp found us anyhow and seeped into our
clothes.
    The foghorn in the harbor competed
with nearby sirens. A half hour later and after several more
unanswered texts and calls, he had still not arrived.
    “ This is not like him,”
said Karla. “He is usually good with time. Are you sure he said to
meet us here?”
    “ He said same corner he met
us to take you away from me my first time in Inverness. This is it,
right?”
    Karla studied my face for a moment
before taking my hand and squeezing it.
    “ Maybe he has trouble with
his motorcycle.”
    I was tired of standing around and
train stations still made me nervous. “It shouldn’t be too far to
walk. Maybe we should just go?”
    Karla nodded and we started off down
the street. I let Google maps lead the way. Three blocks down we
turned the corner left to come across a light show of ambulances
and police cars. A small heap of crumpled metal lay smoking against
a brick wall. Paramedics were busy trying to delicately transfer an
accident victim to a stretcher.
    Karla took off running. I was right on
her heels.
    She evaded a policeman who reached
out, trying to keep her away. She looked up at me, her face
anguished. “It’s him!” She screamed.
    A detective pulled us under an awning.
Garish emergency lights reflected off all the dampness.
    “ You knew this young
man?”
    “ He’s our friend,” I said.
“What happened?”
    “ Hit and run, we presume.
Only there we were no witnesses, unless, perhaps, you happened to
see something?”
    “ No,” I said. “He was
supposed to meet us at the train station.”
    “ Is he … is he going to be
okay?” said Karla.
    The detective bit his lip. “I’m so
sorry ,dear. He’s already gone.”
    My head swirled. The glare gave way to
darkness. The pavement below beckoned, but Karla steadied me and I
kept my feet.

Chapter 8:
Inverness
     
    Just down the hall from Raigmore
Hospital’s mortuary, Karla and I sat in the special