Metro Read Free Page A

The girl! The girl! She is just a girl. My eyes flicker from the man to the girl. She is sitting as before, her eyes closed, listening to the music. The man, on the other hand, slowly turns his head until his glance meets mine in the reflection of the front window and we lock on to each other. I can’t move my eyes. I feel ice crystals forming deep inside my soul. I try to swallow and feel myself shrink on the seat as if I am actually getting smaller and smaller.
    Please, get off the train at the next station , I silently pray, please, get off.
    He sends me a smile, salutes me with a slight nod of his head, and finally I manage to break free of his glance. I am trembling. How can he be on the same train as I am? That is too much of a coincidence to be…a coincidence. I catch the newspaper to hide behind, opening it to a random page.
    “Next station Amager Strand.”
    My eyes are glued to the newspaper, but I am not reading. I can feel his eyes stinging my neck like needles. I am certain he is still looking at me, but I can’t find the nerve to look for myself. Get off, get off, get off , I continue to pray, while a drop of sweat runs down my nose to drip at the newspaper, darkening the paper where it lands.
    Get off.
    The train stops at the deserted platform and stays there for a minute. Then the doors close and the train starts to move. I risk one quick glance over the newspaper at the reflection in the front window. He is not there. A wave of relief washes through my body. He is not there. He got off the train at Amager Strand! He must have sensed that he was recognized. I close my eyes, slowly releasing my breath. I gently shake my head before I open my eyes.
    I realize that I am still holding the newspaper, and even opening to a random page, I am looking at articles about the rapes. There have been five cases of rape in the last month. The rapes are extremely violent. The rapist mutilates the victims in a savage manner, as it reads. There are more pictures of my mirrored doppelganger. Should I call the police now? Tell them that the suspect has just got off the Metro at Amager Strand station? That he has a striking resemblance to my own reflection…that I am not him, of course, but…
    I touch my forehead, trying to massage it. I can’t decide. I can’t think coherently, can’t make a decision.
    Outside, the tracks are now lowered into an open trench with tall concrete walls at each side. I put the newspaper aside. I have to call the police immediately. I finally conclude that my case will be so much weaker if I don’t contact them right now. How am I to explain not calling immediately? I have to deal with them soon no matter what. And this could turn out to be my lucky night; the surveillance recordings from this very train must show the two of us riding the same train. That will be my proof of innocence.
    I grab the phone. Do I just call 112—the Danish emergency number? I can’t remember the direct number for the police. All Danish police stations have phone numbers ending on 14 48, I know of course, but the four digits in front of those numbers? And which station should I call? I have no idea. I press 112, letting them guide me.
    “Emergency Central.”
    “Hello, my name is William Wilson. I am sitting in the Metr—” and then I see him.
    He didn’t get off the train‚ he is standing exactly like he did before, looking at me with that ominous smile on his face. I can’t comprehend how this is possible. He must have been hiding somewhere, maybe he went down on his hands and knees. What do I know? It is impossible to say. However, now he stands at the doors, smiling at me like we understand each other, slowly shaking his head.
    I turn off my cell phone and reluctantly slide it down my pocket. My hands are shaking. A large knife appears in his hand. He lifts the hand holding the knife, making damn sure I see the weapon, before he slowly turns his head to look at the young woman— the girl! —still