whether he'd panic over Ivy or even try to defend Gregory.
They were at the bottom now, racing through the tall grass and weeds, getting tripped up by rocks.
Philip's ankle twisted, but he kept going. Ahead of them was a high wire fence. Through it they saw the station.
The station had two tracks side by side, northbound and southbound, each with its own platform. The platforms were connected by a high bridge over the tracks. On the southbound side, which was farthest from Philip and Tristan, there was a wooden station house and a parking lot. Tristan knew that the latenight train ran southbound.
Just as they reached the fence Tristan heard the bells of a town church, tolling once, twice. Two o'clock.
'The fence is awfully high, Tristan.'
'At least it's not electric.'
'Can we rest?'
Before Tristan could answer, a train whistle sounded in the distance.
'Philip, we have to beat the train!'
'Why?'
'We have to. Climb!'
Philip did, digging his toes into the holes of the wire mesh, stretching and grasping with his fingers, pulling himself up. They were at the top of the fence, twenty feet high. Then Philip jumped. They slammed into the ground and rolled.
'Philip!'
'I thought you had wings. You're supposed to have wings.'
'Well, you don't!' Tristan reminded him.
The whistle blew again, closer this time. They ran for the first platform. When they climbed up on it, they could see across the station.
Ivy.
'Something's wrong with her,' Philip said.
She was standing on the southbound platform, leaning back against a pillar chat was at the edge of the platform. Her head was hanging to one side.
'She could fall! Tristan, a train's coming and—' Philip began to shout. 'Ivy! Ivy!'
She didn't hear him.
'The steps,' Tristan told him.
They raced for them, then across the bridge and down the other side.
They could hear the train rumbling, getting closer. Philip kept calling to her, but Ivy stared across the crack, mesmerized. Tristan followed her gaze — then he and Philip froze.
'Tristan? Tristan, where are you?' Philip asked in a panicky voice.
'Here. Right here. I'm still inside you.'
But even to Tristan it looked as if he were out there, on the other side of the track. Tristan stared at the image of himself that stood in the shadows of the northbound platform. The strange figure was dressed in a school jacket, like the one Tristan wore in his photograph, and had an old baseball cap pulled on backward. Tristan stared, as entranced by the figure as Ivy and Philip.
'That's not me,' he told Philip. 'Don't be fooled. It's someone else dressed like me.' Gregory, he said to himself.
'Who is it? Why's he dressed like you?' They saw a pale hand move out of the shadows into the clear moonlight. The figure beckoned to Ivy, encouraging her, drawing her across the track.
The train was rushing toward them now, its headlight whitening the track beneath them, its whistle blasting in a final warning.
Ivy paid no attention to it. She was drawn to the hand like a moth to a flickering fire. It kept reaching out to her. She suddenly reached out her own hand and took a step forward.
'Ivy!' Tristan shouted — Philip shouted. 'Ivy! Ivy, don't!'
