Another long ride home, I thought, watching the subway train arrive. My newspaper still in hand, I got on the railroad car, exhausted after a long working day.
Boarding a train at 10 pm then counting six stations before I could reach my destination, the late evening struggle my former 23 years old self accepted for a job that I liked. On that Friday 24th of November 1989 at least, I could console myself with the promise of a weekend full of rest from the day after.
Careful and ready, I quickly scanned the surroundings and spotted three passengers on the left. I decided to sit at the right side of the door and very close to it just in case. I unfolded the newspaper and started my train routine: reading while counting stations.
First station
The train stopped but nobody got on. With a few glances on my left, I saw and heard a couple engaged in an almost whispered conversation, while a man, sitting at the car end, buried himself in the book between his hands. I plunged in my newspaper as the train moved.
Second station
A young woman opened the door leading to the gangway connection on my right. Her brown coat, black trousers, black gloves and bandages completely covered her, thus making it impossible to even see her skin and hair. As the train moved, she painfully walked with a crutch and occupied the seat in front of mine before waving at me, her eyes hidden behind her black glasses.
Third station
Before the train even slowed down, the couple already stood in front of the door. While they exited the vehicle, a man got on and immediately darkened the atmosphere as the car lights started flickering. He looked to his right, then slowly to the left and went to sit in front of the passenger with the book as the train departed.
His eyes also hidden behind black glasses, the new passenger was immobile and looked in front of him, certainly making the man with the book very uncomfortable. The lights then stopped flickering and allowed the reading man to hide behind the literary work.
“Terrifying right?” The woman spoke, making me think that she was referring to the man, but she pointed at something behind me instead.
“Terrifying?” I replied, looking back at some of the missing persons posters.
She used the right word for the description of four mysterious cases of disappearance that happened in only eight weeks. Out of respect for them and their families, let us call them Gail, Liam, Sue and Thomas.
“You really think that it’s some government stuff like many do?” She asked.
“Absolutely not, the truth is surely elsewhere.” I responded, before the lights flickered again.
The man with the book seized that opportunity to go to the previous car. The lights stopped flickering as the woman and I watched him open the door leading to the gangway connection. Taking advantage of being screened by the door, he addressed us a ‘get out of here’ look and discreetly gestured a gun before he closed the door.
I contemplated imitating him using the door closer to me on my right. Just like myself, the woman remained calm and came to sit next to me, trying to keep the conversation naturally flowing.
“Jackie. My name is Jackie. Sorry about the bandages. Surgery, you know.” She revealed.
“It’s okay Jackie. What a coincidence. I’m Jack, nice to meet you Jackie.” I said, forcing a smile before the lights went out for about five seconds.
When the lights came back on, we froze in fear when we saw the man standing in front of the door, as if he was ready to get off the train. We neither saw nor heard him approach so fast, but there he was, facing us, his right hand under his black jacket, about to pull out his gun. The train then started to slow down.
Fourth station
He stared at us, immobile, seemingly waiting for a reaction from us as the door opened. We remained calm and did not move. Jackie was holding my trembling right arm at this point, in fact, I can no longer recall if it was her or myself shaking in fear. I was about to plead and negotiate our escape from him when:
“Hey! Hey Corpse is that you? Come on the boss is in a hurry. We all on the move tonight.” A man spoke from outside, prompting our potential assailant to lower his hand and get off the train.
We sighed in relief when the door was closed and the train departed from the station.
“Nice to meet you too, Corpse.” I said, trying to be funny and ease the tension. “That was a close one.” I added.
“Yes, for him.” Jackie responded with some strange confidence. I did not even get the time to react to that when she suddenly struck.
“Aaaah!” I let out as soon as I felt the needle pierce my right lumbar region. I let go of the newspaper and tried moving away from the pain, but Jackie seized me by the arm with a strength I did not expect her to possess.
“I advise you to remain still if you don’t want to end up like Thomas.” She said calmly.
“What?” I let out of my mouth, my head invaded by questions about what the night was turning into.
“Inside the syringe is a chemical compound so deadly that even I still unable to name. One drop of it inside your body, and nobody will ever find even a piece of you. You know, just like Liam, Gail, etc… That’s also a really cheap and bad quality syringe, sorry about that. But really, just don’t move if you want to live.”
“What? Gail? Li—so—so it’s you?”
“Yes, it’s me. It shouldn’t be hard to understand it by now. I hope you don’t still believe that my name is Jackie, or that the bandages are because of some surgery. Otherwise, then you’re just dumber than I thought.”
“But—why?”
“Why not? Do you think life or the world is fair?”
“Why you’re doing this? What did I—do to you? Look, I’ll not say anything just—just let me leave. I won’t talk and you won’t go to jail. Just let me go, please.”
“Go to jail? Who will send me there? You? Or the stupid cops? Poor baby, they can’t even find the dead, how will they find the living?”
Fifth station
I hoped for something to happen, for someone to get on. Jackie, or whatever her real name was, hummed in absolute confidence as she waited for the train to move again. Unfortunately, nobody came, reinforcing her assurance.
“Do you still believe life is fair?”
“Please, just let me go!”
“Why? We finally have some privacy, Jack. You know, after stalking you for about a month and half, which is waaay too long, I couldn’t find one good reason to kill you just like the others. So, because I, am actually fair, I’ll ask you one question baby.” She spoke, waiting for me to reply but I remained silent, waiting for her question. “You not talking? Oh you prefer to die now right?” She then asked.
“No, no—what is the question?”
“Good. Well, Jack. Tell me, what is justice?”
What on earth was that question? I thought, yet, I had to find the answer, the right answer. One thing I learned, observing serial killers and those kinds of psychopaths is that it may be good to rub them the right way, just like with cats, especially when they are full of themselves like the nutcase next to me.
I used to think that I could rely on my physical abilities to fight or run in those situations, however that night, I found myself forced to use my brain. My eyes then randomly landed on the newspaper and on the word ‘end’ precisely. Whatever answer she expected from me, it had to be about her if I wanted to avoid my end.
“I’ll say it once.” I quietly spoke.
“Sure, you only have one shot anyway. I mean, this is real life, not a video game.”
“Justice is—the voice of reason. Justice—is the fairness that transcends the imbalance of this world. Justice is what lies in the hands of those—who have received the power to render it. Justice is the power you have in your hands. Justice—is you.” I said, before a few minutes of silence followed.
“So no fun for me tonight right?” She said, finally removing the needle from my flesh. “Maybe I should have gone for—Corpse?” She added while the train slowed down once again. I watched that nightmare finally stand up to leave.
Sixth station
“I hope you remain a good boy Jack. I hope one day you’ll act just like I do.” She said as she was about to get off. “You can keep that, a souvenir from Lady Justice.” She said, referring to the crutch she was using earlier to fake limping before she got off.
Relieved, I remained frozen, and the only passenger of the railroad car or maybe the entire train. I contemplated how close I have been to death. It took composure, thinking and a right answer for me to avoid my demise and allow my current 57 years old self to share that terrifying experience with you.
Of course, I tried to provide all the useful details about her to the authorities. They never really took me seriously and never believed that it all the disappearances were the work of a killer.
Lady Justice, really. Just like I thought, she was completely full of pride and ego. That may have caused her downfall, since the disappearances or rather her killings continued a few months after my encounter with her, before they came to an abrupt and definitive stop.
Till this very day, neither her nor the missing persons, have been found.