MYTHIC #3: Summer 2017 by FoundersHouse1

Author:FoundersHouse1
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Founders House Publishing LLC
Published: 2018-08-18T00:00:00+00:00

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Lawrence Buentello has published over 100 short stories. He enjoys writing in a wide variety of genres, including science fiction, fantasy, and horror. Aside from fiction, he writes poetry and the occasional essay. Buentello also has over 25 years of experience working in academic libraries, which has kept him as close to the written word as possible. He lives in San Antonio, Texas.

BREATHERS

WENDY NIKEL

HENRY BEAN HAD A miserable retirement—all six months, two weeks, one day, and six hours of it—until the world went wrong and the man behind all the controls of the New South Central Railroad paid him a visit.

“Just one more run, Henry.”

“I’m retired now, you know.” Henry gestured to the crossword puzzle book on his armchair. Isn’t that what retired folks did? Never mind that Henry had already solved all the puzzles at least four times. As long as he used a pencil, he could erase the answers and fill them in again another day.

“Yes. I was at the party, remember? I presented you with that fob watch.”

“I had that stroke, you know.” Henry rested his elbow on his oxygen respirator. The blasted thing had been his constant companion since the day they’d found him doubled over in the observation car and made an unscheduled stop to rush him to a hospital. In New Jersey, of all places.

He’d hated that the stroke made the train late for its arrival in Chicago. Doubly hated that it had forced him into retirement. Triply hated that because the thing cost so much, he wasn’t even able to retire someplace warm and sunny with a view of the sea. Though that was partially the fault of the Plague, too. His retirement really couldn’t have come at a worse time.

“We can make accommodations,” the railroad man said. “You can bring your oxygen tanks, and we’ll have someone there to help you up and down the steps. We’re offering triple pay for anyone who volunteers.”

“How come none of the other conductors are jumping on the opportunity? How come you have to come bothering a poor old man like me?”

The pause stretched on so long that Henry wondered if the Plague had begun to effect folks’ hearing as well. No, that wasn’t it. If the railroad president had the Plague, Henry would’ve known. He wouldn’t still be standing in his doorway, wringing his hands like an altar boy at confession.

“This is a one-way trip, Henry.”

Henry reached into the pocket of his bath robe and fiddled with the fob watch. They’d engraved it with an image of a shark, knowing that he’d always wanted to see one in person but now wouldn’t have a chance to. “Destination?”

“St. Louis. Further, if you can make it. In case you hadn’t noticed, a lot has changed since you retired. I’ve hardly got enough employees left to keep the train running as it is. Too busy worried about their own families. Most have already headed west. I figured you might want to leave the city, too.”

Henry stared at the cardboard covering his window.

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