An empty car. A ride on the rails. A thrown switch.
Written by Ben Bowlin and Alexander Williams. Featuring the voices Carter Rockwood, Clancy Brown, and Mark Hatfield.
M Thirteen Days of Halloween, Devil's Night, a production of My Heart three D audio, Blumhouse Television and Grimm and Mild from Aaron Mackey. Headphones recommended. Listener discretion advised. Here we go. Are you're ready? Here? Oh? You wait? Wait for it? That one the boks are? They were ready? Three? Two, one, ah aero. Okay, boy, I really noted my arm, but we made it. I just hope we're headed in the right direction. Let's try and find a dry spot away from the cold. Whoa, hello, I can't see you. You don't need to. I've been expecting you. What do you mean shut yourself for a moment. Hold onto that cargo beside you. The train will be picking up speed. In a moment it will smooth out a bit. Hold tight one moment. More, hold yes, max, just so like a tie. I was looking for the train into town. Wait, how do you know my name? How does anyone learn anything? You get old, and when you get as old as I am, there are a few surprises left. As for your other question, all trains go in the same place these days, behind the curtain. You ride with me, You ride under the skin of this great country. You're rolling through its veins. But have you a bite for me? Some pro vendor? I haven't Apple, I was saving, but if you're starving, Wow, this will do for now. Let me stand over in this moonlight. Here you can see me. I'm no harm. You bang yourself up something awful. Trying to hop sounded like a bone landing hard on the iron first time? First time? What writing, rail son? Your arm looks torn worse than a twice boiled Oklahoma chicken. Let me wrap that up for you else you're likely to bleed all around the bunk. Look, it's no who do. Just sit there for a moment, Trust me, old boy. The last thing I want is for Max's body to get hurt. All right, careful, here we go. Let me put a bit now, Max. How's that? That's m feels ran new? Thanks? Mr. I didn't get your name, you did not Max. Names have power. Why don't you just call me the conductor? You know, I thought you would be taller. I suspect you cast a mighty shadow, or some shadow follows you. Look, Mr Conductor. I don't mean to be rude, but I don't know how you seem to know so much about me? Are you from town. Oh no, far past town. Sun No. The signs told me where to find you, hobo code from here on to Sandusky points this way. I see the boy as he was, I see the old arrow, but I don't see that which follows after you. I smell it on you, though all I smell is cold smoke. No, there's something else, something close. It must be haunting you. You mean like a ghost, not a ghost, son, You're familiar. Do you understand the thing that follows? That's what drove you to my train. Look, I appreciate you binding on my arm, but you have to understand you always have it, don't you that urgent need that act now? Listen, you're in shock. You took a bruising in It looks like that bruising started earlier than when we met there. Relax, this is a safe place. Sit u spell travel with me. We've got a ways to go, and you're right. I am, as are all my people. Now we have been traveling, max traveling for a long long time. Once upon a time, before they mastered fire, your people sent their elders and their young alike out into the unknown. For some of the danger were the caves. For some, the sunlight. For most the distance, it was a noble endeavor to travel away from safety to return with glory and knowledge. Most died, but on the off chance that one might return, their people would wait. My people are from back before the rails, before folks crossed the ocean and hitched their horses westward, wagons and tow And we were always searching. Our currency is stories, and stories are the only true currency of this world, passed from one to another, like coins in the hand or laid across the eyes, searching, always searching. Where Once we traveled through clouds and chariots and prophets, dreams, we travel now with the ravens and the crows, the rats, the hobo and the coyote. My people are like you. We're just trying to get home. Once long ago, the Creator and there is one, had an uncharacteristically good mood. He brought into being the mortal world from light. He made angels from clay, He made man from smokeless fire. He made my people powerful. We were in those days astride both this world and the next, being of smokeless fire. We alone in all the world, had no shadows of our own. Last the Creator made the shadows, that they may hold passage between the riddle of light and the answer of the dark. We raised a mighty city bur Some called it the city of Brass. Others later saw the ruins and called those Babylon. For some long ages the city grew ripe and golden, a flame of wisdom for all who visited. In the manner of holy things, we set upon each member of this city a task, a ritual, to leave, to travel, to return, and add what they had learned to this great endeavor. So it came to pass A boy set out into the wild. He didn't want to leave, Like so many, he was forced, though truth be told, some piece of him yearned for this, the promise of adventure, of ship and story and danger. This is the siren call of all men, all boy, human, angel, or otherwise, dream of venturing. They believe their journey will bring them, piece by piece closer towards the man they hoped to one day be. Come. This boy he was just like you. Only a day, he thought again and again, and sooner than I know, I will be returned. And like you, he found one way leads only to another. At first he came to a farm in a land near his own, a farm in desperate times, where the people's ribs showed through their clothes, and the vultures circled fat heavy through the pitiless sky. Coming from a land of magic and plenty, this was unfamiliar. He sought to learn this boy the ways of this land in the hopes that he might God willing improve the lot of the people living upon it. And so he sought to teach these laborers the secret arts of the orchard, the delicate pull of the ripest dates, the fragile song of seeds within the ground, how to hear them, how to sing to them. Yet he was rebuffed, beaten by the peasants on the land. Just like a bum, you could say, when the bulls catch you snoozing in the grainer, Bulls in the train yard, railroad bulls. Police. Boy, there have always been the police, or something like them, the things that hunt the free. Tell me, do you see your shadow? It's too dark to see anything in here. Don't pretend, boy, you know what I mean. I know you've seen it before, and we both know it's following you. Still, that name is meaningless. You could call all of a thousand names and a thousand tons and it may respond it's a trickster, Max, it's playing games with you. So is he here with us? Now? I don't think so. Well, you don't see him. But do you think your shadow sees you? I I don't know. I'd be careful, Max, You might be surprised what they see and what they hear. The boy certainly was, you see. As he was laying there in the land of Men, beaten into the dirt, his shadow rose and took its vengeance. It broke the covenant of shadows and raised its hand to the mortal world. Listen close, Max. The shadow offered the boy a deal as inevitable as a train on iron Hans. It had offered him a passage home. What did the boys say? You know this story? I don't think I do. The boy said, yes, of course. Like all boys, he grew tired of wandering once he learned the cruelty of the road. He wanted more than anything to return home. But his shadow followed, and the shadow had different fans for the old storytellers were trading our currency. This covenant with the shadow is the great moral, That's what we tell. Outsiders, at least gathered around the hobo jungles, and the breadlines and the other hidden places. But let me tell you this, It's not the end of the tale. Would you like to know the rest? Look? I know some stories of my own. How about this one? A kid in this dog just trying to get home. No one will help them. I like it, Max, I do. But you'll need more than that where you're going. Here's what happens next, the part of the story only a few may know, and fewer remember. Listen closely. This is my gift to you, A thank you for the apple, an appeal, a favor. The boy escaped the farm, pursued like it or not by his shadow. It became part of him, It followed, it yearned. He was waylaid more than once. On the hungry road to home, he learned from a kindly traveler the danger of the shadows. You see, Max, All shadows are of one. And what if I tell would you? This shadow knew all along that the boy's home had been lost? Why didn't it tell him? Shadows are creatures of secrets, and here is their greatest They are not content to follow with every step they take. They raced to not be behind, but to be within. And then they seek to consume, they want to become in their world. You are the reflection what happened to the boy. That's the biggest secret of all, Max. This is the part you will have to right yourself. The boy could not guess what the shadow wanted. Sometimes it seemed to help him, sometimes to hinder him. It grew closer and closer with each passing day, with each passing hour, until one day the boy awoke to find he had no shadow at all, at least not on the outside. He heard his voice as though it was a shadow, and he asked himself, Am I the boy that left? Am I the shadow that returned? I was that boy once upon a time, Max, and my shadow caught me. It holds me even now, and I am doomed to search, to roam by darkness and rail until I find the city of my people, that which was once lost. It is a pitiless quest, one that grants me no rest, no peace in this mortal world. If I die, it reaches back and pulls me from the depths. I'm tired now. The shadow needs new blood and I need rest. Something's wrong. They're stopping the train. We don't have much time. Listen I've searched for you so long, Max, This body is almost done. Come closer. Please, you can save me, Max, and I can save you. Join me. Trade your shadow, the one you hear even now for mine. Take my place along the road. You will not weaken, you will not die. You will ride free as a lonely wind throughout this land. And I in your place, I will finally be granted the peace of death. What's that? What do you think the bulls? Come here, boy? I know just where the heart. All right, come on out now. We can make this easy, but that's up to you. Of course. This car is cleared for transport of livestock and material only. Anyone found freight hopping should be warned that they are committing an interstate felony. We already know you're here. We will find you better, easier for you to show yourself. Now, come mad, Come at wherever you are mat Are you okay? I'll steal it from me. I know you're here. I can smell you. Max. Where is it? We know he was here with you? Who was here? Who is here? You know? Damn well? Another presence could have been a man, a woman? Is it home? When you recognize or maybe another dog. Come here, Arrow, call yourself, Arrow, Just let me see your eyes. No, no, it's not the dog. Something drew you into this train, Something lured you in. We just need to know what it was. Just tell them the truth. Boy, the thing lured me in. I was running from the carnival and I hopped the train. Do you know what his train is? No? But I hope he was going in the right direction. Then all aboard for Brad Barren. How did you do that? Hear? Do you think it's driving why east? More than one of you? Why? Well, that doesn't have to be better. Now go on, son, ask him? What do you want to know? How does this end? How does what end? The story of the Boy and the Dog in the Shadow? I don't think I know that with Max, but I'm sure of one thing. You were not alone on this trade, and we are not alone. Now this is important. Max. Did it give you something? What's there to give with no one to give it to? No nothing? What is this on your own? I? Um, where did you get this? Oh? That's been there all along. I think I had it. I don't know, I don't remember. Yes, you do, something happened, you hurt your own did somebody wrap it up for you? Not her? Feeling much better? It's feeling much better, then let's just take it off. No step away, boy. It aims to hurt you. It aims to take you away from me. No, no, no, Well hello, I was wondering where I would find you back demon, You are too late. The boy is mine, Max. Walk towards me. Stay away, boy, you know now what that thing is, what he pretends to be is only a mask. I can keep you safe. I'm counting to three. One. It will lie to you, Max, It will play games with your life to Once it gets you, it will never let you go. Three. Come to me, boy. I've got his feet, I've got his arms, I've got his head. You put me down, your abomination out of the train. Ready boys, Ready, ready, right, swift and efficient? Well that boys, now back to one. Are you okay? Max? Who was that? A corrupted thing? Hiding and wait for someone like you to come along? Like he was writing this train, it rides from one body to the next. He knew things about me, things he had no reason to know. A great story teller, but a trickster. You were lucky you were not taken in by it. And well not all the way, And it knew about you more careful deception. These things are crafty. It shifts its story to lure its prey. What means you any different? You? In both of you? All of you? You're not who you say you are. You're nothing but a shadow, a lousy shadow, following me around, stirring up trouble. But I am not going to hurt you. Where is this train going? I told you home. Look, we're about to cross the river. That's the bridge ahead, Harrow, get ready? What are you doing to you? Do not need to fear me? Great m Thirteen Days of Halloween, Devil's Night, starring Carter Rockwood and Clancy Brown, Episode four The train tracks written by Ben Bolan and Alexander Williams, featuring the voice of Mark Hatfield. Editing and sound design by Trevor Young, directed by Alexander Williams, Script supervision by Nicholas Takoski. Casting by Sunday Bowling c s A and Meg Mormon c s A. Production coordinator Wayna Calderon, Production assistants Zoe Shay and Amber Ferris. Animal recording by Ben James, closing theme by Rose Azerti. Loyalty Freak Music dot Com. Recorded at d G Entertainment in Los Angeles, California. Engineered by Gary Forbes and Jody Abbott. Executive producers Aaron Manky, Noah Finberg, Chris Dicky, Matt Frederick and Alexander Williams. Supervising producers Trevor Young and Josh Thane. Producers Jeff see Funk and rima Il Kali. Thirteen Days of Halloween was created by Matt Frederick and Alexander Williams and is a production of I Heeart three D Audio, Blumhouse Television and Grim and Mild from Aaron Maankeey. Learn more about the show at Grim and Mild dot com, slash thirteen Days and find more podcasts from I heart Radio by visiting the i heart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows