They all sat in front of us, grey and orange from rust and age, their
silent features corrupting the night with an evil air, and I recall
standing there as the others began to hear it too, my hands shaking,
legs drooping, mouth hanging open stupidly as I attempted to say
something - I don't know what - and nothing would come out.
I don't know how long we all stood there, waiting for something,
anything to happen. The cars seemed mystic in their own way as
they stood their ground and refused to let us any nearer by chanting
some evil spell among themselves to keep us back. A spell is one
thing, but if you've ever thought you heard a car (or possibly some
dangerous lunatic hiding behind a car) singing something, you'd
understand how we all felt that night. Even Brant and the two
White Dragons appeared motionless in the soft glow from the
flashlight, but somehow Eddie brought the flashlight up to meet
whatever was occupying the first car.
'Hey! Turn it off damnit!'
A surge of relief at its at least being human swelled up in me, but I
still stood there, motionless and quivering, even as Eddie and the
rest of the bunch, even Kirby, started toward the coaster. I must
have still been in a daze, because I found myself wanting to stop
them, to pull them back to me, to end it all, turn around and get the
hell back over the fence. But I still stood there as fog rolled around
my eyes and my sight blurred, leaving only my ears to tell me the
horrible fate of our party.
'What the hell are you...' '. . are you sure that it's them . . .' 'What
are they doing here like this...' A long, ear-piercing scream
followed, the kind women usually scream in those horror movies at
Starboard Cinema when the vampire wraps his cape around his
victim and starts sucking the living blood out of her. It rose to
almost unbelievable splitting levels then faded away with
suppressed laughter followed by '59 bottles of beer on the wall, 59
bottles of beer...'
A hand touched my shoulder and I reeled to find Kirby at my feet,
telling me that the other guys had gone ahead without me and I'd
better hurry up. I ran and caught up with them by the main track,
where they had already begun the climb. Brant was first, then the
White Dragons, and then Dewey and John, clinging tightly to the
steel tracks behind them. I ran the 20 feet to the final, highest 100
foot drop, and started up after them.
The cold steel rails clapped clamily into my skin as I started
shinnying up, looking to where Brant and the Dragons were
perched high above. I couldn't weigh the amount of energy I had
left to figure how I was gonna climb 100 fucking feet barehanded.
It's kind of like that joke about the little ant crawling up the
elephant's hind leg with rape on its mind. I probably wouldn't make
it, but I had high hopes.
Kirby never touched the rails. I couldn't blame him after the train
event, maybe something happened to him when he was younger, or
something. Kirby told me a lot of things best left confidential, but
he never told me anything about it either. He may not have wanted
