Julia Epilogue Disclaimers, etc. in Headers St. Louis, Missouri July 25, 2001 12:32 p.m. The heat was oppressive in the train station, despite the fans that blew the stench of unwashed bodies across the cavernous room. Men of every size and shape milled about, most of them beefy like lumberjacks. He felt almost out of place in the swirl of testosterone, skinny and useless. But he knew it had to begin somewhere and this was the place. A rumble of the latest departure vibrated through his shoes, urging him forward. He pulled the Yankees cap low over his forehead and ignored the trickle of sweat that ran down his back. His shoulder-length hair and full beard didn't help matters, but it was necessary. Even with the coverup, he felt exposed, like a thousand eyes were watching his every move. Hands in his jacket pockets, he moved forward in the line, hearing the murmurs of excitement all around him. "Gonna make millions." "Gonna set myself up nice." "Hey, asshole - don't cut in line!" At that one, a skirmish broke out just a few feet away. He flinched, but didn't move, knowing security would be there shortly, and they were, hauling off the two fighters amidst curses and a blast of hot air. Just look straight ahead, he told himself. Keep your eyes on the prize. He fingered the paper in his pocket, the forgery that his friends had supplied. Though they thought his quest impossible, they couldn't refuse him, even going so far as to join him. But they were catching other trains this week, branching out to the ends of this land in the same search. He was going west, simply because that's where his heart was telling him to go. At last, he faced the scruffy man behind the steel cage. "Name?" The man didn't even look up as he barked the question, writing furiously on the clipboard before him. Clearing his throat, he replied, "Gabriel." "Gabriel what?" "Nothing. Just Gabriel." The man's eyes snapped up, narrowing on Gabriel's face. "Do I know you?" Gabriel shifted on his feet, looking away. "No. I don't think so." Was this how she felt as she started that final journey? The butterflies in his stomach were making him nauseous, but he stood his ground, willing this to pass so he could get on with it. The station master shrugged, looking back to his forms. "Ever done any mining work?" Gabriel thought back to Tunguska, to the way his hands had bled from the sharp rocks, to the way his back had screamed in pain and refused to straighten at night. "Yeah, some." Cold gray eyes swept him from head to toe in disbelief. "Where?" "Tunguska. Russia." Where a massive digging operation was still underway, he knew. Except this time, they didn't toss aside the rocks they dug up. The man snorted. "No wonder you're a bag o'bones." He passed the clipboard under the opening. "Sign here." Gabriel couldn't help the grimace that twisted his lips when he raised his right arm. Thankfully, the station master didn't notice, and Gabriel ignored the twinge of pain in his shoulder as he gripped the pen. "Six month contract," the man droned. "Every Sunday off. You skip out, the company can hunt you down, got it?" Gabriel nodded, struggling with the pen. His writing was sloppy and when he was done, he let the pen go and fisted his trembling hand, hoping the disability wasn't pronounced. Like the company would really care, he thought. All they needed was warm bodies, and he knew that dozens of men were lost to famine and accidents each week in the mines. They'd take anyone they could get, which made it perfect for his needs. He gave the clipboard back and was told in dismissal, "Track 34. Train leaves in ten minutes. Payday the last day of each month." A flash of narrowed eyes, then, "And either cut that hair or pull it back. Too dangerous." As he walked away, Gabriel pulled a piece of yellow ribbon from his pocket. He held it up to his face and breathed deep; it still smelled of her. Sighing, he pulled his hair back and tied it with the ribbon, keeping his chin down as he maneuvered through the throng, following the cardboard signs to Track 34. The noonday sun was scathing, but he stayed under the overhang by the track, seeking shade like all the rest who waited for the train. A far off whistle signaled its approach, and he felt relief course through him. Almost there, he was almost there. The urge to chase after her had been eating at him for months now, but his recovery had been slow without her healing hands. Even now, the puckered skin was red and he had trouble sleeping at night from the ache. It didn't help that the left side of his chest hurt as much, if not more, than the wounded right. That pain was constant and unforgiving, tweaking his heart as if crying out for her. Again, his hand moved to his pocket and he tugged at the crumpled, slick paper, resisting the urge to look at it. He'd memorized every line, every curve, ever since the Gunmen had given it to him not long after her disappearance. They explained that the digital photo had popped up in the download of data from his father's computers. It was the only one he had. It was precious. It was priceless. Reverently, he pulled it from his pocket as the train appeared around the corner. Holding it in his left hand, he traced the shaking fingers of his right over the color that was still vivid, despite the tears he'd shed over it. Fathomless eyes that matched the midnight blue of the dress gazed up at him and his breath hitched. She wasn't smiling; she looked lost, as if she wasn't herself. She wasn't, he knew. Despite what his friends said, she wasn't Julia. "That the wife?" a voice said next to him. Startled, he fisted the photograph and glanced at the man next to him. "Uh..." What to say? "Yeah." Leave me alone, he begged silently. The man next to him squinted at the train. "You're lucky. Not many women around these days." Women were a hot commodity, worth more than money. But it took money to get a woman. "Yeah, I'm gonna make some money," the man continued. "Get me a piece of farmland and raise a passel o'kids. All I need is to find me a woman." Gabriel's heart tripped in his chest, shouting out in pain. He began to walk away to the slowing train. All he needed was her... his truth. End Epilogue End of "Julia" Beginning of "Gabriel" December 13, 2001 For Mom.