by Mark Lingane
He joined the queue. “A ticket to Isa on the express train, please.”
The old man behind the counter gave him a look of suspicion. “You traveling on your own?”
“Yes. I’m going to meet my mother.”
“Hmm. It’ll be forty dollars.” He dragged a stained and wrinkled hand over his chin.
“It says thirty dollars there.” Sebastian indicated the sign displaying the prices.
“You want the ticket or not?”
Sebastian counted out the amount using the largest of the notes.
The old man scooped up the money and issued the ticket. “Platform one.” He pointed vaguely and without much enthusiasm across to the other side of the station.
Sebastian made his way over. The signs at the end of each platform counted down from four, but ended at two. He couldn’t see platform one anywhere.
He pulled on a passing man’s sleeve. “Excuse me, sir.”
“Yes, son, I don’t have any spare money.”
The elderly gentleman was dressed formally in a tailcoat and top hat. He wore a monocle that magnified his eye. If Sebastian hadn’t been disoriented by his circumstances he may have found the freakish nature of the different-sized eyes cool.
“Could you tell me where platform one is?”
“Certainly,” the elderly man replied. He pointed to side of the cavernous exit. “Go to the side, then turn right. It’s outside. You’d better catch up with your parents before the train leaves.” He smiled.
Sebastian smiled back and made his way to the long platform outside. It disappeared off into the distance. It was drier out here. There was the occasional sun umbrella, each heavily populated by those seeking relief. The humidity had been replaced by a fierce, unrelenting sun capable of killing an unwise and unprepared man in a day.
The platform was packed with people. Men stalked about in their britches and top hats, and the women fanned themselves as sweat ran down their backs, absorbed by the thick material of their Vesta blouses and Vivien fishtail skirts. Most of them were modern women, fighting for equality, and Sebastian had heard some of the men back home say unpleasant things about them. Here they were standing in groups, talking behind fans, then hushing as someone deemed unworthy passed by.
Two conductors appeared behind him, blowing their whistles, herding the people down the platform. He heard the blast of the air horn from the train. It was time to board.
Then he saw the train.
*
What will Iris instruct?” said @Graham74.
“It will instruct what it always will instruct. Kill.kill the boy,” replied @SunLover15.
“But if the probability trees see the boy will come, how will we kill him?”
“The trees will know.”
“If he comes here, what will happen? What will the trees instruct?” said @Graham74.
“The trees go kill.kill. There will be no instructions for anyone. We go kill.kill.” @SunLover15 paused. Parts of the machinery on his body crawled over him. “We will kill.kill the boy.”
“How?”
The cyborg stood there unmoving for several seconds. There was a beep from the small black device in his hand. He lifted it to his face. The light from its display cast an eerie glow over his face. He turned it so the other could see the instruction.
“How many?” said @Graham74.
@SunLover15 consulted the device again.
10
THE TRAIN HAD a sloped front that rolled onto a long, flat top. Every part of it was swept back, giving the impression of speed, even as it stood still. Sebastian felt it was alive, and longed for nothing more than to sprint off into the horizon. Its skin was a combination of steel and bronze, making it dazzle in the sun.
He reached out and ran his hand over the surface of the metal. It was warm to touch, but not overly. He stroked his hand down it until an angry engineer shouted at him from the cockpit to keep his hands to himself. He guiltily retracted his hand and placed it in his pocket.
There was another loud whistle, followed by the platform conductor shouting for everyone to board.
He ran to the first door, yanked it open and clambered into the carriage. It was the first time he had been in powered transport. He had heard someone on the platform declare the train could travel at nearly two hundred miles an hour. He didn’t know how fast that was in real terms, other than it being a big number, but he was dying to watch the scenery fly past at that speed. He wondered if it was fast enough to fly.
He opened a glass door to a private cabin. It was empty so he sat by the window with his backpack resting on his knees. There was a long, slow whistle, followed by the loudest release of steam he had ever heard. The muscles in his stomach tightened and he was filled with excitement as the express train jolted forward, and then slowly and smoothly pulled out of the station. A big grin spread across his face as he watched the platform slide away. He folded his arms against the windowsill and rested his chin on his arms.
The train began to pick up speed and gently rocked from side to side. There were two loud whistle blasts as it surged forward.
There was a clunking noise on the roof. Sebastian craned his neck up and could just make out the edges of giant golden wings as they unfolded, curving out and down over the side of the train. The looked like upside-down wings. He wondered if the train went so fast it needed special wings to keep it on the ground.
*
Time wore on and the scenery, half concealed by the great golden wings, continued to zoom past. The door to Sebastian’s cabin opened and a tall man in a blue uniform stepped in.
“Tickets please.”
Sebastian checked his pockets for the ticket and handed it to the tall man.
The man examined it closely and gave Sebastian a look of annoyance. “What are you doing here? This is first class.”
“I’ve got a ticket.”
“This isn’t a first-class ticket. You could be thrown off the train for this. Where are your parents?”
“My father’s dead and my mother’s in hospital.” He burst into tears. They weren’t real but he hoped the tall man in the dark blue uniform wouldn’t notice.
“All right, calm down. Is this the first time you’ve been on a train?”
Sebastian nodded as he wiped away the tears.
“I’ll take down your name and we’ll call it a warning. But you’ll need to move down to the back of the train, in the coach section. Understand?”
Sebastian nodded again, and got up to leave.
He made his way along the train, but in carriage after carriage all the seats were taken. He reached the final one, which was so full that people were standing. He sighed. Then he noticed a door at the far end. It had a sign on it saying: KEEP OUT. PRIVATE. The passengers all seemed to be engrossed in their own interests or were too polite to investigate, but he was a young boy, which meant he could get away with things.
He quickly opened the door and sneaked through. It was the last carriage in the train. And it was empty. Completely empty. No windows. No seats. The walls were unusual. He knocked on them and they clanged. A closer inspection revealed they were lined with studded metal. The door had the largest lock Sebastian had seen and it was on the inside. Someone obviously wanted to keep people out. He clicked it shut.
He lay down on the floor, placed the backpack under his head and rocked gently as the train rocketed along. He felt something sticking into his back. He ran his hand along the floor and discovered a long curved object wedged between the floorboards. After several minutes he managed to prize out a long cylinder wrapped in paper. He ripped it open and the neatly stacked coins tumbled to the floor. He quickly scooped them up and counted them. Fifty dollars. He slipped the coins into his pocket. It made him feel a bit better about the price of the ticket.
He longed to see the outside scream past the window. It was his first time. Surely he was allowed some special treatment. When he was king things would be different.
*
The train surged forward only to lurch backward again. There was the ear-piercing screech of metal being torn apart, and the train slowed. Above him there was another roar and something heavy landed on the roof of his carriage. There was another deafening roar and the screaming stopped.
He could feel the heat through the metal. There was a loud scraping noise followed by more sounds of steel being ripped open. Three giant claws, larger and thicker than Sebastian’s arms, punched their way through the roof, slowly and terrifyingly.
The train came to an erratic halt. Another set of claws sank through the roof and clenched. They lifted up, tearing the roof open and exposing a vulnerable Sebastian inside. He cowered in the corner as the large head of the beast craned in, searching for him. He could hear the sound of cogs turning as its eyes moved backward and forward trying to get him into focus.
Sebastian could see scratches and tears all over the face of the beast. It was made of metal. It wasn’t a living creature.
He suddenly realized that despite the beast’s close proximity, he wasn’t writhing on the floor in agony. His body felt like he was being pounded by a thousand punches, but he could tolerate it. It wasn’t as bad as the previous times. He was surrounded by metal. He wondered if that had anything to do with it.
Eventually the beast settled. He heard the whirring of gears, and the mouth opened. He heard a distant eruption, which he assumed was from deep within the beast’s body, and saw a small flame dancing at the front of its mouth.
“No!” he shouted. He could feel the force within him strike out from his body into the heart of the creature.
The beast went crazy. It thrashed around, denting its head and the walls of the carriage, which rocked dangerously from side to side. It jerked its head back out of the carriage, ripping off parts of its own face. There was a loud thump as it landed heavily on the ground. Sebastian heard it thrashing around, unable to function properly.
Another beast glided in low over the open hole in the carriage roof. It landed heavily on the ground. Crunching metal echoed throughout the carriage confines. Sebastian collapsed to the floor, giving into the pain. As the darkness took him, the second beast soared off above, carrying the wreckage of the first in its claws.
*
He didn’t know how long he had been unconscious, but the sun was still high in the sky and the day was still hot. He unlocked the door but it refused to budge. He tried the side door. It creaked and groaned. He wedged himself between the wall and the edge of the sliding door and pushed with all his might, just managing to force it open enough to squeeze out. With his backpack slung over his shoulder, he staggered out onto the empty desert plain.
He wandered down to the front of what was left of the train. It was a charred and blackened mess. The magnificent locomotive engine had exploded, leaving only the wheels intact. The second carriage had melted and was a disfigured, twisted pile of scrap. There were no survivors. He spotted the occasional bone or skull among the wreckage, but none of it invited further examination.
He reflected upon what had just happened. The great beast had been right here, with that fearsome, deadly head a matter of feet away. Yet it hadn’t really scared him. The pain did, no doubt about that, but he felt sure he had known these beasts all his life; they weren’t completely alien to him because they lived in his imagination deep within his soul.
The most important question in his mind was, why him? Why was he such a threat?
There wasn’t much left to do. The train was dead. He didn’t know how long it would be until a search party was sent out. Probably the next day, or maybe in a few days, it was something he couldn’t count on.
He looked up at the dark clouds in the west. They were rolling in fast, and he couldn’t see any shelter to be found here. He squinted across the plain to the south. He could make out some low hills with trees. He considered them his best chance of shelter.
Hanging around so many dead bodies gave him the creeps, anyway. What if they came back to life?
11
IT WAS AN hour before he hit the slow rise of the ground and the edge of the woodlands. The wind had picked up and now the rain started to fall. It was gentle for now, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before it became torrential. There was a large outcrop of rocks to his left, which warranted further examination.
As he approached, he noticed a dark recess. His spirits lifted. It was probably a cave. A dry, sheltered spot out of the wind and rain. He ran inside just as the heavy rains hit. Puffing, he sat down and flicked the water from his hair.
There was a scraping sound from the back of the cave. He sighed. There was an animal inside with him. He was sure that whatever beast it was, it would undoubtedly be terrified when it saw him and instantly relieve itself, stinking up the place.
There was a groan. That didn’t sound like an animal, he thought. It sounded human.
He squinted into the darkness at the back of the cave. There was a scent, but not one of an animal. It vaguely, disturbingly, smelled of his aunt Ratty.
He crept down into the darkness.
He allowed his eyes to become accustomed to the gloom, and was shocked to see a slight figure wrapped in a blanket lying against the rear of the cave. It was damp and cool back here, and was certainly a recipe for illness. His mother was always going on about wearing appropriate clothing to avoid catching a chill.
He picked up a long stick and prodded the figure. Nothing. He prodded again. There was a groan, but no movement. He prodded repeatedly until the figure rose, swore, and threw a rock at him. It was a girl who looked to be a few years older than him.
He was completely at a loss at finding a girl in such an isolated place, and it struck him dumb while she unleashed her verbal assault on him. She eventually finished and glared at him. He stood there, unmoving. She sat there, disbelieving his unmovingness.
“Didn’t you hear me?” she said.
He nodded frantically.
“Well?”
“What?”
There was more silence between them as each tried to understand what was going on.
“I’m not a stupid little idiot, by the way,” he said.
“I didn’t call you that.”
“I know. I didn’t understand most of the words you used but I got the gist. They’re mainly the words my mother uses when she’s riding a horse.”
She picked up another rock and prepared to launch it.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“What’s it to you? Get out of here.”
“It’s raining.” He pointed out to the heavy rain falling from the dark skies.
“I don’t care.” The girl coughed. “Get out.”
Sebastian stepped out into the rain. She glared at him. He looked forlornly back at her as the rain poured over him. It trickled down his neck into the back of his tunic. He shivered.
The girl sighed theatrically and rolled over to face the back of the cave.
He sneezed.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, come in. But stay over there. And go when it stops.”
He traipsed back in and sat down with a squelch. He fiddled with the stitching on his backpack for several minutes until the silence got to him.
“What’s your name?” he said.
She rolled over and presented her back to him. “I don’t have one.”
“Oh. I’m Sebastian.” He wondered if he should offer his hand to shake.
“Look, you’re going in a minute. It doesn’t matter what my name is.” She coughed violently, curling into a ball. “Stop talking to me. You’re making me sick.”
“Don’t worry, I make everyon
e sick.”
“Don’t you dare try to out-sad-story me. Go away.” She rolled over and flung another rock, which struck him in the chest. It clanged. “What are you wearing?”
“Ah, a kind of armor.”
“What are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere, wearing armor?”
“I was on the train, and it got attacked by great scary flapping fiery things that destroyed everything.”
There was an impossibly long silence, and the sound of the rain drumming on the wet ground outside. Even though it was dark he could still make out the stunned expression on her face. Hatred was driven away by morbid curiosity. He could tell she was dying to ask.
Eventually she said, “Where do I start? How did you survive? Are there any other survivors? You still haven’t said why you’re wearing armor. You’re, like, ten.”
“Twelve,” he said. “Nearly thirteen.”
“Whatever, a kid, and what on earth is a great scary flapping fiery thing? And the whole train?”
“Yes. Everyone else is dead, burnt to a cinder. Would you like to see it?”
There was another long pause as she pulled a face of disgust. “You bet I do.”
She sat up and steadied herself against the rock walls. After a couple of deep breaths she made her way to the cave entrance. She sat down on a large stone just inside. Sebastian had been hoping to sit on it, but allowed her the chance. It was another thing his mother was quite strict about. A gentleman always stands for a lady. He wasn’t sure this unnamed girl counted as a lady due to the fact that she wasn’t old enough to be one, and she certainly didn’t talk like one. He wondered if he could push her off.
She coughed violently again, doubling over under the force of her contracting muscles. She straightened up and rested her head against the wall. “Let’s wait until the rain passes,” she whispered. Her voice was hoarse.
Sebastian took out his canteen and offered it to her. She looked at it suspiciously. She took it, unscrewed the lid and sniffed at the contents. She raised it to her lips and drank heavily. She dropped it to the ground when she had finished. Sebastian scooped it up and held it out in the rain to fill it up again.
