𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐫, 𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐫 | 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

61. a seagull bites off jj's dick.

S I X T Y - O N E
a seagull bites off jj's dick.

By the time we get to Wilmington, it's dark out.

I also vastly underestimated how many trains there would be here. It makes sense that at a train station, there'd be a lot of trains, but this looks like every train in the world. It all seems like an unnecessary number of trains. This is some autistic, middle-aged man's wet dream.

"There's at least fifty thousand trains here," I dramatise. There isn't. But in the grand scheme of things, it's pretty close.

"Well, we know it's car 750X on the track to Raleigh," Pope replies.

"Yeah, so now we just gotta find it." JJ acts like this is going to be a walk in the park.

"Well, news flash. I highly doubt no one is going to notice we're leaving with a massive cross," I point out a seemingly obvious flaw. If I get a hernia, or prolapsed ass because of hauling this cross I'm going to be big mad.

"We won't have to. We can nab it somewhere further in the country. Just gotta figure out how to stop the train," Pope answers me.

"Right," Kie mumbles beside me.

"Leave that to me," JJ says confidently.

That's never a good sign; no one likes a confident JJ. Confident JJ loves bad ideas. My ideas are great compared to his.

"How you gonna do that?" Cleo asks, sceptical at best.

"I got an uncle up in New Bern, right? When he got tipsy, he'd just throw an old chain across the tracks, just for shits and giggles. And that old chain would stop all the train traffic in coastal Carolina."

Okay, it's not an awful idea on paper.

"A chain?" Kie asks.

"He's actually right. For once." I can't help but add a dig, "There's a low-voltage current that runs across all rail tracks. Throw a chain on it, and you close that circuit. It would read as another train. Crossing lights come down. Science is actually pretty sound. Probably spurred on by the Great Train Wreck of 1918 in Nashville, over one hundred people died."

"Science. I know my science," JJ sounds smug. He ignores my death stat. He's learned it's best to.

I am an autistic, middle-aged man when it comes to historical disasters. A four-part docuseries on human failings? Sign me right the fuck up.

"No. You know your uncle, who may know science," I give him a sarcastic smile.

"Mabel, just give me this one."

"I don't give out pity points, buddy."

He gives me a hardened look, but Pope cuts him off. "Well, we don't have a chain." He points out a flaw in the plan. Quite a pertinent one.

"No, but I bet Topper's dad has jumper cables in the truck. Would that work?" Sarah asks.

"Yeah." Pope nods.

"Yo! What's going on? Are we doing this?" Topper shouts from where we left him. I look over at the man still wearing the awful green shorts, his hands are thrown up in the air as he looks mad. He agreed to this.

We ignore him.

"All right, you all wait here. Pope and I will go look for it and send a signal once we find it," Cleo plans.

"Do we actually have a plan right now?" Sarah sounds excited about the semi-formed plan. It really is a rare occurrence.

"Think we do." JJ nods.