Bullet

The first problem was waking up in bed.

It had been a beautiful morning while he waited in line for the bus. Will was expecting to take a very short nap before getting back to work. But he would also have to call them. That was the deal. Family is family, and we don’t get to choose them, do we? That was his thought as he put his knapsack on the floor, closed his eyes, and let the articulated city bus rock him gently into sleep in his seat.

So, why was he in a bed?

The bed was gently rocking as he woke up and looked around. It was the type that folded out of the wall – a blanket and pillows were included – and it was curtained off from the rest of the train. It seemed be very old-fashioned and stylish. His knapsack was at his feet.

Ha, ha, okay, he thought. This must be a joke. There was someone playing a joke on him right now.

Will checked in his pockets.

Nothing.

Not a single ticket.

Panic felt like acid pouring down his throat.

He sat up, looked around and checked his watch.

Broken…or the battery was dead (he could not hear a thing).

And there was something else that he could not hear.

No passengers.

He opened the curtain and jumped out of bed.

A train...

All of the other seats were empty. And they were beautiful. There was not even a discarded pillow or blanket for him to see; only the wonderfully designed and cushioned seats that looked as if they belonged on a spaceship.

Where was that woman with the child who kept trying to get her mother to give her a cookie? What about the passenger in front of him who wanted to talk about his vacation plans with a woman who just wanted to reach her stop? And that girl he saw a few seats up who smiled at him as he walked past…

All gone.

And the train was still moving.

It was really moving fast.

It felt as if it was set to break a record.

Will had a thought at that moment.

Shinkansen.

That was the bullet train, the ones he read about in Japan that could travel great distances in record time. Not that he wanted to think about it now, but he was very impressed by it. It was something that he would have to enjoy one day. Maybe he was enjoying it now?

Stupid, stupid…

This could only be a dream.

He still had his knapsack.

The cell phone was still there.

Will looked at it very carefully.

No bars.

Battery was at 8%.

And where was his charger?

The other pockets in the knapsack were empty.

The panic returned.

No wallet, bus pass, ticket or passengers to ask what the hell was going on.

Will looked around, both up and down the car. One of the interesting things about the train was that he could look straight up into the next set of cabins through the passageway. There were no doors between the sections and the curtains were all open.

Not a soul.

As he walked up from his section – Will thought that he was at least seven cars back from the conductor’s booth – he looked out the window for the first time.

Night.

How long had he been asleep?

Still in a dream, he thought. It had to be.

As he walked past the empty seats, he saw a sign off in the distance through the window.

He peered into the night and saw a large white sign approaching rapidly, indicating a station on their line.

Will fell back into a expensive seat and felt ill.

The sign said, Lake Broadview.

There was no real reason for him to keep walking.

This had to be a dream, or the worst nightmare of his life.

The train could not be heading past the lake. That was impossible. There was only the one dirt road. The train was nowhere near that beautiful space. There was no way...

She had been there with the whole family. They had all loved her. But that was several years ago. Why was this happening now?

Will began to cry.

Really, why was this happening now?

For some reason, Will knew that he had to check his knapsack again.

The photo was still there.

It was a beautiful day of sunlight, camping and laughter.

The train seemed to be getting faster.

In fact, it was.

A beautiful day when it all went terribly wrong and he had wondered if there was some reason why he was doing what he did.

The entire family had seen him on the shore. She could not make it back from the stand in the middle of the lake and he just stood there…

Will needed to clear his thoughts.

At least he was in one of the better sections, he thought. The spacing was much more generous, the lighting was not an insult or attack on his eyes, and he did not have to explain his tears to anyone.

He looked out the window again as another sign, again in white, passed him by.

Lister.

Of fucking course it was Lister.

If this was really a dream, Will knew that he was moving deeper into the nightmare stage.

His first job out of school; the first time he had any responsibilities over anything. Or anyone.

He had met her there and she was working on shifts at a local café where he would have his lunches. It was an old-fashioned diner with those rotating stools, the chrome and the fixtures that you would expect from a trip back to the 1950s; that was why he bothered with the place that first week.

But she was also there.

She was the reason he kept coming back.

And he felt the train get even faster, and was it getting harder for him to move? Was this what happened in Japan with passengers who decided to use those bullet trains? It was something to think about…just not right now.

The cars were so quiet. The only thing that he heard was the tracks scoring against the body of this train, a vehicle that he never had any mystical or psychological ideas about worth noting.

Will looked out the window again.

Was this going to be his whole life? Was it all heading backwards to the very beginning?

Lake Broadview to Lister to…

He waited for the next sign.

Nothing.

And then he thought about his phone.

It was now at 5%.

He could send a text.

With some effort, he tapped away.

“Mom, I am not sure what is happening, but I am stuck on an empty train and it is passing by the wrong stops. Not sure when I am getting home. Sorry about this.”

Send.

The worst part was the waiting for someone to answer. Will knew that his mother hated texting, but she was sure to pay attention to a message from a son she had not seen in such a very long time. She had to respond. She just had to.

And nothing happened.

Will felt the train getting faster.

And there was something else he noticed.

He could not get up.

The chair was quite comfortable and Will did not think much of his lack of movement until he looked at his knapsack in the adjacent seat. It was almost embedded into the leather. If he had to make a terrifying guess, he would say that the chair was...eating it.

The forward motion of the train was unending.

And Will looked out the window one more time.

One final sign was coming down the track. Strangely enough, the train’s speed did not seem to match the speed of the sign’s approach. Will did not feel he could be surprised by anything else today.

The sign was slowly coming into view.

Home.

What else could it say? What else did he expect from the last one on the line (Will knew that it had to be the last one)? It all made sense.

This must have been a dream.

Why else was this going on?

The only problem was that he could not deny the pain.

After staring out the window, Will found it difficult to turn his head. His skull, much like his knapsack, was sinking deeper into the cushioned seat. The cell phone was right beside him, now also moving toward the knapsack. He could see that there was one message that remained unread. With a real effort, he moved his hand and tapped the screen.

“Welcome home.”

If Will could have laughed, he would have lost himself in giggles and tears, but the pain was becoming too real as the rest of his body sunk into the chair. He looked one last time out the window as his head was swallowed up. At least he could not scream out loud as his bones began to break and his breathing stopped. His last memory was about those amazing trains he would never be able to ride. I wonder what that would be like, he thought.

Thank you for reading!

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