Five(17)

And you will recall that this is a story about a death, taking place here, in front of you, very soon. And it is likely to be gruesome, and terrifying, and it will change everyone on this platform forever. It is not to be taken lightly. So perhaps you will be gracious enough to allow for three more death-free minutes for those who are about to witness this tragedy. Perhaps you can grant some time for the train to slow down and avoid a derailment and even greater tragedy. Perhaps you can find it in yourself to extend just three more minutes to the person who is about to die. Or perhaps you can’t. Perhaps you come from a place where everyone dies on time.

Medical Student shakes his head at Bad Back and kneels at the platform edge, reaching for Emma.

“I’ve got her,” Liam says, next to her against the lip of the platform, trying to push her up to Medical Student.

Emma swings a leg up onto the platform with the help of the men, and when she leans her weight on Liam and his face is close enough to hers, he says something that only she can hear.

“You’ll have to kill me first,” she replies to him.

“I’m trying to help you,” Liam says, nearly shouts, roughly letting go of her as Medical Student pulls her up. Liam barely restrains other words that come to mind for women who don’t do as he says.

“Madam,” Medical Student says to Emma as he helps her to standing, glancing at Liam, thinking of the only word he knows to address a woman of an undiscernible age in Britain, “Are you all right?” while asking her with his eyes if Liam is a threat to her.

“I’m fine, thank you,” she says as she brushes herself off. “You’re very kind.”

Then she rushes toward Mrs. Worth’s side, calling, “I’m so sorry.” She slips her newly cracked phone into her pocket and pulls out a bottle of water from her bag and opens it, placing it next to the old woman.

“I’m sorry, my son, he’s, uh—”

“A psychopath,” Mrs. Worth says through clenched teeth, clutching her arm.

Emma glares at her, although she’s not surprised. She leans down and says, “I hope you signed a DNR,” taking her water back as she hurries away to grab Gideon, who is running in circles around the bottom of the stairs.

At this same moment, on the platform edge, Medical Student says to Liam, who is still on the tracks, “Need a hand?” and reaches toward him.

“Nah, you’re all right,” Liam says, brusquely, waving him away. Liam never accepts anyone’s help. Medical Student nods and jogs back to Mrs. Worth. Under his breath, Liam says, “Fucking nuts,” referring to Emma, and hoists one leg easily onto the platform.

And then it hits them, all of them, all at once, at 7:04 and thirty seconds.

The high screech of a siren, loud and insistent. Everyone looks up, automatically, following the human instinct to look skyward when a sound invades the atmosphere.

Liam looks up too at first, then looks down as he pushes with both arms to get onto the platform. His housekeys fall from his coat pocket onto the gravel of the track bed.

“Bollocks!” he yells, and lowers himself back down to get them as the noise pierces his thoughts. No one hears him shout or sees him descend, distracted as they are by the alarm, and who pulled it, and what it means. No one hears him grunt when he hits the back of his head accidentally against the bottom of the concrete platform lip with his full force after grabbing his keys and not ducking low enough when he tried to come out. No one can hear the scatter sound of the gravel in the crawl space under the platform when all of his mighty, muscular, unconscious heft hits the ground.

On the platform, Gideon screeches an imitation of the alarm. Emma chastises him. Bad Back moves his hand to the small of his back in case anyone is watching, and paces. He knew things were rocky in his marriage, but he didn’t think she’d actually leave.

To Do List, full of regret, standing next to the unmanned ticket booth, wonders why she panicked and pushed the button for the fire alarm instead of just calling the police on her mobile like a sensible person. In her defense, the alarm does say, “Push in case of emergency.” In her haste and desire to be a good citizen, compelled by an overwhelming need to contribute to a resolution of the dangerous drama on the tracks that has nothing to do with her, she did what the button said and has consequently altered the destiny of her fellow travelers. Or perhaps she’s just helped to move it along.

She automatically reverted to the actions that people her age associate with emergencies and would have been taught as children, before the advent of mobile phones. It was involuntary. She wonders if it’s menopause. She wonders if everyone will hate her if she goes back down to the platform, if they will know it was her. She wonders if she should just leave the station now and pretend she was never there.

Medical Student, so in control just a moment ago, starts sweating, despite the cold. He cannot catch his breath, his hands go numb and tingle as the alarm’s high-pitched warning thrusts him back into the war with its sirens and bombs.

A mouse scurries along the track. It stops when the alarm starts and sniffs the air, but then goes on its way, foraging in the rubbish in the gravel and weeds. It can tolerate higher sound frequencies than humans and is unperturbed by the alarm. It climbs over Liam’s keys, limply clutched in his right hand. It continues with its rodent business, climbing up Liam’s arm and over his face, and crosses the rivulet of blood cutting a burgundy path across the shiny virility of his scalp, on its way to investigate an empty bag of Doritos pinned just under his shoulder.