| At The Tracks |
[29 Mar 2008|10:01pm] |
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mood |
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 thoughtful |
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Joseph had come back from running errands and various other chores he had to do as part of his lifestyle to a message from Rhiannon. She sounded… distant, in a way he hadn’t heard since he’d come back. Maybe he was overreacting but in his gut he knew something wasn’t right.
He’d simply grabbed a fresh packet of cigarettes and a fresh clip for his gun before he’d headed back out. Rhiannon’s directions were easy enough to follow, given that where they were supposed to meet wasn’t that far from her apartment. And anybody who lived in Vegas knew where the rail-yard was, even as quiet and abandoned as some of those lines were, everybody knew them.
Hell, there were a ton of stories about them. People saw weird things at night; some claimed they’d seen ghosts of all those people who had at a desperate time thrown themselves onto the tracks and others who were simply unfortunate enough to be involved in an accident. Joseph believed pretty much anything, given that vampires were real and demons existed. Believing in ghosts wasn’t that hard of a leap.
Joseph drove his car at a slow even pace, glancing in his rear-view mirror to make sure he wasn’t being tailed. Maybe he was being paranoid, but after that guy in the building opposite to his and the strange shadow behind his every footstep, he wasn’t willing to take the risk that he was followed.
It was as if the Las Vegas of bright lights and glamour faded into shades of monochrome black and whites, slipping from the present into a past that felt forgotten in amongst the darkened rail tracks and the scattered remains of a history built up a long time before he’d even come to the City of Sin. Maybe it was because it was so late that everything felt heavier and darker or maybe it was a reflection of the time, freedom and civil liberty threatened by the so called government put into place to protect them.
He drove that much further into the rail-yard and pulled the car into park, tyres crunching against the uneven ground until they settled into the stillness of the world around them. Joseph slid out of his car and glanced over his shoulder, pleased to find that there was nobody behind him, nothing but him and the rail-yard.
Joseph closed his door and walked around his car, settling denim against the hood before bowing his head to light a cigarette.
[Thread: Open to Rhiannon]
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