The Screeching

Everyday after that, Frisay held the seat open for James.
“I’d like to meet somewhere other than the train.” He said.
“That’s not possible.” She grew pale.
“Why ever not?” He demanded.
“I can’t tell you. You wouldn’t understand. It is my duty.” Her eyes were tearful. He turned from her, angry.
“Duty? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t press me for answers. I can’t tell you.” She stood up, and moved across the aisle. He leaned closer to her.
“Just tell me!” He practically screamed. Just then, a screeching noise filled the train. James held his hands over his ears.
“They’re after me!” She cried. Frisay hid under a seat. When the noises got louder, she grabbed James’ wrist, and ran through the door to the next car. “Protect me.” Her eyes pleaded. “Our meeting was not by chance.” And with that, Frisay and James jumped out the moving train together.

“What the hell was that?” He asked, after he’d recovered.
“I cannot tell you.” Frisay looked away.
“Then, how can I protect you?” James asked.

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