The Bourne Shadow

Chapter 1: Winter Train

The train to Boden, Sweden was nearly empty. Some passengers slept with their heads leaning against the window, some slumped in their seats. Near the front of the train, a young man sat vigilant. His eyes were fixed on the seat in front of him as he listened for movement on the train. His fingers were laced in the hand of the young girl beside him. The winter dark hid the trees and snow as they passed in silence. The only sounds Oskar heard were those of the running train and his own breathing. He knew he was being watched and the cold, weak grip of Eli's hand in his meant that she was hungry. Stockholm had become too dangerous, as had Gavle and Sundsvall. They continued to travel north into the darkness of deep winter with the scent of old death on them.

Living was not difficult for them. Eli was exorbitantly wealthy, Oskar was fit and strong. He grew quickly to enjoy the subtle hunt of murder and Eli cultivated that skill by showering him with affection and gifts. Their happiness was always cut short by the scent of death, the discovery of bodies and the need for secrecy. That secrecy weighed on them both, though neither of them spoke of it. Though Oskar believed the contrary, the blood on his hands continued to harden his heart. Eli knew, and believed it was her job to soften him again, to keep his humanity alive.

It was early, the day had passed in full dark, and Oskar had not slept. He knew he was being hunted. He knew because he had hunted many men and this is how he imagined they must have felt. There was no clear danger but his back was tense, his legs prepared to strike and his hand was on the handle of the knife Eli had carved for him out of love. It bore a phoenix and a lily on either side of the handle. The knife was small, easily concealed and rested in his hand in his coat pocket.

Eli sensed Oskar's distress on the dark train. She was not afraid but she wrestled with some way to pacify him so that he might rest. He would need his strength when they reached Boden. She was hungry, worn from hunger and weary.

"Rest, my love," she whispered in Swedish.

"You don't call me that anymore," Oskar snapped.

Eli raised her sad eyes to his and he was ashamed at speaking angrily to her. He squeezed her hand.

"I'm sorry, my dear. But there is something wrong. I must keep you safe."

She smiled meekly, "You must rest."

"Not yet. We'll go to the toilet. Keep your eyes open. I'm sure there is a man watching us. Find where he is sitting. I'll do the rest."

Eli nodded, stood and walked behind Oskar toward the back of the train so close to him that she stepped on his boots. She giggled and when he heard her he smiled without knowing it. Oskar turned to Eli to see her smiling face because it was such a rarity and when he turned a man near the door of the cabin stood quickly and walked toward the back of the train.

Eli nodded ahead of them, "Him."

Oskar turned to see the man's back, and they followed him cautiously. From what Oskar could see the man was relatively young, well-groomed and wore a foreign jacket and boots. He did not appear Swedish. They followed him through the cabins. As they neared the rear cabin the man vanished. He'd closed the door between them and then he was gone.

Oskar and Eli walked to the very back and she looked out the window at the dark parallel lines that reflected the light of the moon. Oskar turned, protecting Eli with his body, and looked hard at all the heads in the cabin. There were only four and none were the well kempt man they'd followed to the back of the train.

"We should ask," Eli said.

Oskar nodded and chose an older woman who read by the light of a lamp. She was the only one who appeared awake and she was sitting by the door.

"Excuse me."

The woman placed her book in her lap gently.

"Did you see our friend? He just walked back here and we seem to have lost him," he laughed awkwardly. "I know it's difficult to lose someone on a train, but I managed it."

It was a tactic Oskar had picked up over the years. He disarmed people with an awkward charm, a tilt of the head and a shrug.

"No one besides you has come back here, my dears. Are you sure you are well?" She referred to Eli.

Oskar spoke, "My sister's been ill. We're headed to our parent's cottage. My father's a doctor." He looked embarrassed. "I waited too long to take her home."

The woman eyed Oskar skeptically then turned back to Eli. "Young lady?"

"My brother is being kind. I have cancer. I'm making the trip home to die."

The woman was taken aback. The girl was weak but carried an unmistakable gravitas when she spoke. It was as though she couldn't lie.

"I see. I'm sorry to pry but, you know. We must be careful these days."

Oskar nodded and they moved to the next cabin to decide what they should do. When they sat down Eli spoke.

"He's gone. Rest now."

Oskar was only more uncomfortable, "No one vanishes. Do you think the woman was lying?"

"No."

Eli was always right about whether someone was lying.

"Then there is something truly wrong. Where did he go?"

Eli stroked Oskar's hand, "There is nothing to say there was ever any danger, Oskar. Go to sleep. I'll watch over you."

But it was impossible. Oskar made two more passes of the train, Eli trailing closely behind him, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. They sat back down at the front of the train. Oskar was very tired. Neither of them noticed a handsome man had taken a seat across from them.

"Long train rides make me restless," the stranger said. He spoke Swedish very well but he was clearly from somewhere else. Oskar tried to pinpoint the accent as he spoke.

Eli responded, "Forgive us, but my brother needs to sleep."

The stranger smiled, "Right, I apologize. I'm just a bit nervous in a new country."

"Ah, you are not Swedish? I wouldn't have known," Eli lied. "Still. We'd like to rest."

"Of course."

The train pressed slowly on and Oskar gave in to his fatigue for a little while. Eli sensed violence in the stranger but did not tell Oskar. She was hungry and restless as the train closed on Boden station so she spoke with the stranger across from them.

"What brings you to Boden?"

The stranger smiled, "History."

"Ah. History?"

"I fancy myself an historian, particularly the trains and train systems of Europe."

Eli could sense neither a lie, nor truth. It was the murky middle ground of speech where the best lying was done. This was a dubious man.

"The winter is not the best time for the study of trains," she chided.

He smiled again, "Too true. But there is only so much time in life, and so many paths to discover."

Oskar gently squeezed Eli's hand to alert her that he was awake and listening.

"And you?" the stranger asked.

"Home for holiday."

"Yes, that is coming up. Isn't it? Time does fly."

The conversation was forced, etched with deceit, and precarious. Oskar could not understand what the man might want. Eli was equally uncertain. What was certain was that he was not their friend. And Eli was hungry.

The train speaker chimed, fifteen minutes to Boden.

"Almost there," the stranger said. "Is there any chance I can accompany you from the station to the town. I have never been to Boden and the constant dark still unnerves me."

Oskar tensed. Eli salivated. They both knew what the other was thinking.

"I'm sorry but I don't think…" Oskar began.

Eli interrupted, "I know a very fine place."

The stranger seemed happy. In Eli's mind she saw the field near the inn where they would drain the man of blood. Oskar had been pitiless in killing and refused to disclose who he had murdered to feed Eli. That sort of callous disregard for humanity would prove detrimental for them if it continued. It was a very different thing to find an old dead man in a gutter than to hear about a string of missing girls. Eli played Oskar's humanity against his hatred, hoping for some insight that might put him at peace with the killing and not go the way of so many others, the way of needless slaughter.

Tonight, though, there was a questionable man who wanted to follow her into the darkness. It was risky and Oskar would disapprove because he hated her to feed in the open and vulnerable, but the scent of the man was already in her nostrils. The stranger would not survive.