Gianfranco Mancini’s Reviews > Sleeper Train > Status Update

“What’s your name again?” he asked over his shoulder. He planned on taking her to his cabin and wanted to use small talk to keep her defenses down. The more he was able to keep her mind distracted, the longer it would take before her internal alarm started ringing. “Huh? Oh, it’s Emily,” she said. He had no clue if that was her real name or not, though it didn’t matter. Slaughtered lambs didn’t need a name.

She winked and smiled warmly. “I bet by the time we get to Cincinnati he’ll be back in your cabin and raring to go. I know I would if I was coming back to you.” Emily felt exposed under the woman’s lustful gaze. She instantly crossed her arms over her chest, hoping to avoid the woman’s attention.

Colton may be slipping, may be an alcoholic, but he still thought of himself as a cut above the rest, even with his problems. He needed to take down the Cleaver before he had a train full of bodies on his hands. Though he had found no evidence the man was here aside from the anonymous call, he was sure of it. His gut had never steered him wrong in the past.

At least that way he could kill his way out or plot an escape if the rumors didn’t pan out. He would continue creating more carnage, adding to the body count, and when this ride was all said and done, the Rail Car Cleaver would go down as the most notorious serial killer in history.

He pushed the train of thought aside. Self-examinations had no place mid-assignment. Even if he’d concluded the strain of the job, and his ever-worsening alcoholism, compromised his ability to complete the mission, it was too late. There was no replacement ready to go, no way to take him off the case until the train ride was over, and by that point, if he didn’t do his job properly, a lot of people could die.

His throat burned and tears welled up. Colton closed his eyes and kissed the photo of his daughter, Jessica. Taken from him by a monster all those years ago. There were monsters everywhere, and Colton would not rest until the latest monster of the week was behind bars.

The line moved quickly as the muscled butlers hurried the onboarding passengers into the bowels of the train. When Kurt and Emily were next in line, one of the men fake smiled and put his hand out. “Tickets?” the man grunted. Kurt handed them over. “Ah, yes. Mr. And Mrs. Heart. This way, please.” His pleasant demeanor and softly spoken words were a harsh contrast to his gruff call for their tickets.