Legacy of the Locomotives

I awaken to the sound of a tunnel screaming. Lights flashing. A locomotive rumbling. I'm sitting on the back of a train carriage. The endless tracks spread out before me.

What a strange way to wake up.

It takes me a moment to realise that my pockets are full. I turn them inside out. A flat iPhone 13 and a handgun. Unsurprisngly, I'm more alarmed by the handgun.

Suddenly, the door opens behind me. A man in a burka mask is looking back and muttering something.

"Yeah, don't worry. I'll check on him."

He turns to me and we lock eyes. He immediately pulls out his weapon.

"Have we met?" I ask, before disarming him of the gun and swatting him in the throat.

He stumbles back and starts coughing hysterically. I start apologising profusely but then he tackles me into the railing. He hits me in the face once, twice, so I roll the other way and he punches said railing.

He howls in pain as his knuckles gush blood. Without thinking, I clock him in the face, pick him up and throw him off the train.

His body hits the pavement with a sickening crunch, followed by far too much tumbling and turning into goo.

I look down at my hands, which are shaking at this point. I didn't even know I was capable of such a thing.

I sigh quietly and approach the door which is slightly ajar. I wonder if there are any more inside? It sure looked like he was talking to someone.

To my horror, there's about fifteen or so more. They haven't seen me yet, so I creep towards the closest seat and duck behind it.

'Is that door locked tight?'

'Yep, tight and secure, commander.'

'Who's commander? I thought I was.'

'We all look the same. It's impossible to tell.'

This is some of the dumb shit I hear while I'm out of sight. And then I cotton onto something much more important.

'No matter what happens, don't open that door. Now let's get off this fucking train.'

Hmm, that door seems important. Might be worth upsetting the balance. I get up from my hiding place and announce myself loudly.

'Yo, so what's this about not opening a door?'

Several gunshots narrowly miss my head so I duck back down behind the row of seats. All hell breaks loose.

'Holy shit, it's that guy.'

'Jimothy or something?'

'Yeah, the super spy.'

'Wait, where's Terry?'

Oh shit, I must've killed Terry.

A furious gunfight breaks out. It's between me and fifteen other guys in Burkas. I take down two and they fall to the ground. Three more and I'm using one as cover to make a bit of ground. I make it halfway down the carriage when one crazy motherfucker brings in a turret.

'Wait bruv, really?'

'Terry wouldn't have liked it.'

The guy with the turret loads up.

'Fuck Terry.'

He fires and an ungodly firestorm rains down upon our carriage. Holes are everywhere. I throw my collateral damage aside and duck for cover. Half the men are running too. The other half are flying across the other side of the train car. When the coast is clear, I look up and most of the cover has been blown to bits. Time to wrap this up.

I start picking them off one by one. One, two, three go down. I duck behind a single seat and reload. Two more fall to the ground. A lone bullet whizzes past my ear. I race across the aisle and find some new cover. The last of the goons throw everything they have at me. I retaliate by blowing up some heads. Now it's just me and the turret guy. Look's like he's jammed it.

I sprint up to him and suddenly he's acting like a complete pussy. He immediately drops the weapon and starts cowering.

'Gawr, please sir. Don't kill me. I was just doing what the other men told me to.'

I stare at him.

'Relax man, I just wanna see what's behind this door.'

'WAIT, DON'T OPEN IT!'

I stop for a moment.

'Hang on, I thought you were in charge.'

'No, that was Terry.'

'But didn't you hate Terry?'

'Yeah, he was a cunt.'

I shake my head and open the door to the next train carriage.

'OH GOD, PLEASE N-'

To my utter disbelief, a decomposing hand reaches out from the darkness and drags him through the doorway.

The door slams shut and I deadbolt it. What the hell did I just see?

This feels like something out of a fever dream. And those men before, calling me a superspy. Something resonated there. It felt right. And I undeniably proved that to be true by taking out all those goons. But my name definitely isn't Jimothy.

I can't remember anything else. What's my purpose? If only I could charge this damn phone!

Right. So I can't remember anything except for the fact that I'm a superspy. And surprisingly irrelevant trivia about trains. More specfically, train related media.

I felt like I was playing through a mid-game level of Time Crisis II. What the hell am I about to walk into now?

I hesitantly unlock the door and take a deep breath. There's no way but forward. Not unless I wanna turn into jelly upon the tracks. Like my good friend, Terry.

It's different here. The mood has changed dramatically. The lights in the carriage barely work. Some are flickering on and off. Others don't work at all. It's colder in this carriage. Like the temperature has dropped fifteen degrees or something. I can see my own breath leaving me and start shivering. There's an overwhelming smell like something has died in here. The stench is unbearable.

We finally leave the neverending tunnel and now the train is surrounded by a vast city, illuminated by lights. We begin crossing a narrow bridge and then something catches my eye, back in the carriage.

Something is eating the body of the turret guy.

The train goes into a tunnel and I duck down low. I can hardly see anything. The constant flickering isn't helping. I can definitely see a dark shape over his body, eating his innards. Throwing aside the entrails it doesn't want. Devouring the ones it does. I start to feel sick but I push forward. Finally I'm five feet away from the creature when I raise the weapon slowly.

Almost, as if sensing me, it turns around. One eye bulging madly, still feasting on the man's flesh and snapping a bone in half.

'Fuck this,' I mutter, before shooting it point-blank.

That was definitely human. As it hits the ground, it's features race through my mind. Hardly any hair. Decomposing skin. Rotting teeth. It couldn't be-

Suddenly the humanoid creature gets up again. Maybe it was.

It moans quietly and reaches for me. I jump back and it lumbers towards me. To my horror, several more of them have surrounded me. Where did they come from!?! It doesn't matter now. I need to make every last bullet count.

We're in the city again but this time it's overrun. Buildings are on fire. Smoke is everywhere. People are screaming. I have no idea if it's safer up here or down there.

The creatures close in around me. I decide to take a leap and take a chance on some of my irrelevant train knowledge. I press my gun against the head of the first one and fire.

The gunshot is deafening. My ears are ringing. But it's definitely dead this time. Bits of it's brain (or lack thereof) are everywhere.

The others haven't so much as even reacted to the demise of their fallen comrade. On the contrary, one of them tries to take a bite out of my arm.

I elbow it in the face and it groans in pain. It backs off but the other one is still lumbering towards me.

I aim for the head again and the back of it's skull sprays against the windows.

One left. I aim down the sights of my weapon and put my finger on the trigger. And then there's another moan behind me.

I spin around and just manage to duck out of the way. It lumbers towards the other and they fall over stupidly. It seems to be wearing a train conductor's outfit. Probably part of the original staff before they were taken over.

Okay, this isn't bad. As long as the numbers stay low I can handle them.

And then just out of the light, I hear more moaning.

I run back to the start of the carriage. Where are they all coming from? But it's no use. I've locked myself in. I can see shapes in the darkness and hear shuffling. It sounds like there are hundreds of them. I check my gun. Seven shots remaining. I've got to make them last.

We enter another tunnel and the lights finally go out. I make my move and fire. I take out two but the light from the gunfire makes it look like there are hundreds more. I start pushing my way through the hungry crowd and fire again. Hundreds of gnashing teeth and rolling eyes. I start punching and hitting anything furiously with my gun. It's not making any difference. So I just resume blindly firing. More go down. One particularly strong one tries to grab my scalp. And then finally, the cityscape returns.

It's not much light. The city is completely destroyed now. But the sun is rising and it's more than I have on the train. I see an opening and scramble under the seats towards the front of the carriage.

Three shots left. Two, one. There are about twenty creatures still hot on my tail. I reach the door. I swear to God I'll use this last bullet on myself if I have to. And then it unlocks.

I throw the door open and slam it shut behind me. Now that was bit too Train to Busan for my liking.

The next carriage is a surprise. I'm in a room full of well dressed people in formal attire. There are about ten in total including a bartender and a fully operating bar.

I sure as hell feel out of place in my casual attire, wielding a smoking gun.

A blonde woman immediately approaches me. She's wearing a green ball gown.

'Hi. Are you here for the party?'

I stare at her.

'Z-zombies! Hundreds of them. Well no, maybe less. In the carriage I just came from. We have to get-'

The woman chuckles lightly. She speaks again and I notice she's very expressive with her hands.

'I have no idea about these Zombie things you speak of. I have never heard of that terminology before. It does sound quite strange. But I assure you we are safe in here. Are those things chasing you quite stupid?'

'Extremely.'

'Well you need not fret if they can't open a door. And our host told us we couldn't open it from our side anyway. Say you look parched. Would you like a drink?'

I'm still processing what's happening. But I guess if we're safe, we're safe. I nod slowly and we go over to the bar. The other patrons are staring at me.

'Don't mind them,' She continues. 'They just find your choice of clothing interesting. What do you want?'

I stop looking around and address the bartender, who looks unimpressed and is wearing a tuxedo.

'Can I have a XXXX?'

My blonde companion immediately bursts out laughing. The bartender raises an eyebrow.

What? I wasn't kidding.

'He'll have a champagne, thank you.'

The bartender nods and pops a bottle. She leans on the table and looks over at me.

'You have such strange terms. I find it...fascinating.'

'So I'm guessing they don't have something like that here?'

'No, definitely not. What's your name anyway?'

I think for a moment.

'Jim. And yours?'

Suddenly the train practically screeches to a halt and we both grab onto the bar. The snooty bartender drops our drinks and smashes the bottle. The rest of the guests fall to the ground.

Once the commotion has ceased, I take my surroundings in. We're passing slowly through an old english village. Maybe a clueless sheep has wandered onto the tracks?

The rest of the guests look confused and frustrated. But the train starts going full speed again and we're flying through the english countryside.

Suddenly someone screams. It's an old woman. She's hysterical.

'MY HUSBAND! MY HUSBAND IS DEAD!'

The young woman and I exchange a look and rush over. I feel his pulse. Yep, he's not breathing.

'Maybe he hit his head when the train stopped?' I suggest to the grieving widow.

The blonde woman turns him over.

'Or maybe he was killed from the knife in his back?'

I look at him again and my eyes don't deceive me.

'Oh yeah, that too.'

The woman starts howling uncontrollably and cradling his lifeless body. The rest of the passengers are all lost for words. The blonde woman looks to me for advice.

'Looks like there's a murderer on board. Any idea how to handle this?'

'I got no idea,' I shrug. 'I'm just a gun for hire. I'm no detective.'

'Yes but you can keep us safe,' declares a man with a moustache and a monocle.

'And you knew where to check that he was dead,' pipes in some American guy. 'That's

already better than half the knuckleheads on this train.'

'At least with the gun, you can be the guy asking the questions,' says another Woman.

I look at the blonde woman again. A hint of a smile crosses her face.

'The game is afoot.'

We begin by questioning the old woman. Who this guy was. Did he have any enemies? Apparently old man Jenkins was a sweet old guy that wouldn't hurt a soul.

I ask her if she and old man Jenkins ever fought.

'No, not in the slightest. The only thing we ever fought over was the paper in the morning.'

But I find her response to be too quick on the uptake. My blonde companion catches my eye and I know she feels the same.

Next is the moustache and the monocle. His accent is very pompous and proper. He never liked the Jenkins. They always wanted to go into business together but he found the husband to be too airheaded to rely on.

I look over at my blonde companion again. He clearly doesn't like him, but that's nothing to kill a guy over. I can tell she agrees.

Next up is the American guy. He doesn't know them from a bar of soap. But he's shifty and doesn't answer my questions properly. He could just not be much of a talker, but he directly contradicted himself when he backed me up before.

Something of note.

The third person that spoke up, a brown haired woman, is extremely open with answering my questions. She speaks fondly of Old Man Jenkins, like he's the Uncle she never had. When she leaves, I'm singing her tune.

'Yeah no, that was all kinds of fake,' The blonde woman interupts me. 'I know for a fact she just used them for the money. Jenkin's wife never liked her.'

I glance over at the brunette taking a seat. Seems like you can't trust anyone on this train.

The bartender, with a bit of coaxing from my partner, eventually agrees to some questioning. He doesn't talk AT ALL, but is surprisingly expressive with his facial expressions. I don't know if he just chooses not to or is paid not to or doesn't think it's worth opening his mouth in front of us, but I know for a fact he didn't do it. Why? Because he was behind the bar the whole time.

I'm just enjoying the occasional eye roll we get as we ask him stupid, nonsensical questions.

Once we finally let him go, there's three more passengers to question. Jenkin's old army buddy, his nurse and his butler. All very close to him. All very fond of him. The nurse seems to be somewhat relieved it's over as it was getting very hard to take care of him. And the old army buddy mentions the will one too many times. The butler is aghast at this.

'HE WHAT!?! Well, if the will is on his mind that much even after his friend's recent death, perhaps I will give him something else to think about.'

It takes a bit of calming down from my protegee but we eventually prevent the butler from having a heart attack. It's an understandable reaction. Grief hits us all in different ways and it was a very insensitive reaction from his army friend. But I can't help thinking...is he hiding something too?

Finally it's time for me to question my partner in crime through all this; the woman in the ballgown.

She sits across from me at the bar and smiles.

'Hello, hello, it's a bit weird being on the other side of things isn't it? Now I know how everyone else must feel.'

I don't answer her at first. Instead I turn the page with the new notepad I've acquired.

'You know,' I begin. 'We've spent so much time together but I don't even know your name.'

'Penelope,' She answers brightly.

'Penelope,' I muse. 'What a lovely name.'

She smiles as I write it down.

'So how did you know the victim?'

'That's an easy one. He's my father.'

I drop the notepad and stare at her.

'You're serious?'

'Dead serious. What? Surprised I'm not grieving like my Mother?'

'Kinda. Yeah.'

Penelope chuckles softly and thinks for a moment.

'She's not mine and she doesn't know. Dad had an affair later in life when he was away for work and I'm the result. He invited me on this train to reconnect but-'

She sighs.

'I never really got to know him.'

I write down some amalgamated version of that.

'Wow, okay. That's a lot to unpack. But I'm still a bit concerned why you smiled when you realised we had a murder to solve. Your biological father's murder in fact. Figured you'd be a bit cut.'

'Well like I said. I never knew him. And I actually like murder mysteries. That's one of the rare things I used to talk about with him in our letters back and forth.'

I look up at her from my notepad, but let her finish.

'So I guess it felt kind of...poetic. To solve my old man's murder and figure out who did this to him. I'm doing what I love best. But I'm doing it FOR him too.'

'Just as long as you didn't cause it, Penelope.'

With all the questioning done, I'm ready to address the audience. I get everyone to gather around the bar and let the bartender return to his station.

'Good people, after many thorough interviews, I have made my decision. It is time to find out who our killer is.'

I begin pacing around the room.

'Many of you loved Mr Jenkins. Many of you were close to him. Some of you however couldn't stand him and others were only interested in his money. But there is only one who I think had the gaul to kill him.'

I point dramatically at the bartender.

'It was YOU, sir! J'accuse.'

The bartender sighs and taps his foot. Penelope quickly runs to my side.

'Are we sure about this, Jim? You don't want to reconsider?'

'No, no...I have made my decision. It was definitely the bartender. He is as shifty as he is snobby-'

I see movement shift ever so slightly from the crowd. As I'm prattling on, I can't help but notice someone is heading for the door.

'Yes, I never liked that guy. He doesn't have any of the beers I like. Which is a real problem in and of itself. NOW, PENELOPE!'

We both spring into action and grab the person before they can make it to the next carriage. The real killer.

It's the moustached monocle man.

'Old Man Jenkin's potential business partner?' Penelope cries. 'But why?'

We tackle him onto the bar and he starts fuming.

'Does there have to be a reason? I hated that man. He always wanted to go into business. But he's so forgetful and aloof. He only invited me on this trip so he could continue trying to convince me. Do you know how exhausting it is having someone chew your ear off about grain percentages for eight hours? It just got too much. I will happily go into business with someone that has done their research. But I will never go into business with someone like him. Over my dead body.'

'Well, I guess there's no need for you then.'

I hear a gunshot and spin around. Old Man Jenkin's wife is holding my gun. My last bullet. It must've fallen out of my pocket in the commotion. I turn back to see the moustached monacle bleeding out from his wounds.

While everyone else is running over to comfort Mrs Jenkins, I manage to yoink the gun off her. Sure there's no bullets left, but she sure as hell won't be needing it.

'JIM!'

I spin around again to the sound of Penelope's voice. She's pointing towards the door. The moustached man has escaped into the next carriage.

'I have to...I think I need to...I've got to-'

'GO!' she shouts. 'I'll sort everything out.'

I nod and race past her into the fourth carriage.

That was quick thinking on Penelope's part, saying it was the bartender. That way the real killer would attempt to make a swift exit. But I've had enough Murder on the Orient Express for one day. Where am I now?

This new carriage is similar to the second. It's cold again, but still has the old timey decor of the third. The man with the monacle finally collapses and I swear I see something transparent leave his body.

Outside the train we're going through a dark forest now. Yellow eyes are peeking in. Small branches are scraping against the windows.

And then a figure materialises in front of me.

It remains silent. It doesn't say a word. I can see right through it. It's cold, dead eyes stare straight through me. The hair on it's head is standing up.

'What're you-?'

What else am I supposed to do? I have no bullets anymore. No weapons. The only thing left to do is talk to it.

That doesn't work. On the contrary it's eyes go red.

Nah, fuck that.

I run back to the third carriage. At least Penelope is there.

Damn, locked out again.

To my horror, two more transparent beings materialise in front of me. One looks like the killer from the other train car. They all grin and begin gliding towards me.

Forward. I have to keep moving forward.

I dive under the seats as one narrowly misses me. Another one passes through me and I feel cold. I'm starting to slow down. Need to keep going. I need to keep-

The one with the red eyes blocks my path. It bares unbearably sharp teeth and turns into something hideous. It's the stuff of nightmares.

But it can't stop me. I just can't run out of energy. It physically can't hold me in place.

I run towards it and it flicks it's arms. I'm launched into the air and I hit the roof.

I groan in pain. I can hear evil, scizophernic laughter surrounding me.

The coldness is closing in. I'm starting to feel numb. I can't feel anything anymore.

And then the last door opens. The spectral beings scream and disappear out of sight. A lone humanoid figure holds out his hand.

'Come on kid, you're almost there. No giving up now.'

He helps me up and I follow him into the last carriage.

We're outside now and it's not a carriage anymore. We've left the forest behind and I can see mountains in the distance. It's a beautiful starry night.

The man moves to the front of the train and starts refilling the coals. Who knew this was a steam train?

'Hey man, wanted to say thanks for saving my skin. I was running on fumes. It's been a mission getting from one end of the train to the other.'

The engineer ignores me and keeps an eye on the coals. I can't believe one guy is operating the entire thing.

'Seriously, that last one was hairy. Definitely reminded me of something called Ghost Train. But I couldn't tell you if it was the 1941 or 2006 film.'

The man finishes filling up the coals and takes a breather. The train is still going at full speed.

'You know, you haven't asked me once what this train is or what you're doing here. I've been watching your progress. You did pretty well except for the end.'

'Yeah, and that's when you jumped in. Thanks by the way.'

We continue racing across lush fields. It's a beautiful night.

'No problem. You just don't strike me as someone who's in a particular rush, despite finally reaching the end. You'd rather make small talk instead of finding out answers.'

'Aw look, I'm just happy to be alive right now.'

The steam engine chugs along drowning out the sound of an ocean on the horizon.

'And I'm scared of what I might find,' I continue. 'But I would like to know who I am.’

The man nods and goes back to tending the coals.

'That's more like it.'

'So what's my story?'

'Well you already know one thing. You're a Superspy. So where does that leave the rest of you?'

I start deducing where I came from now that I've got a minute to slow down.

'Well, my name definitely isn't Jim. But I think it starts with a J. This mission was rather urgent. But the more I went along, the more distracted I got. And that girl...'

I stare off vaguely into the distance.

'There was a sense of familarity there.'

The engineer nods. He holds out his hand expectantly. I think for a moment. And then I place the flat iPhone 13 into his palm. He hands it back fully charged and I start going through its contents hungrily.

'This has all been for you. This is your place. A mindscape if you will. You might either be asleep or perhaps in a coma. Why do you think everything revolves around trains?'

He shrugs and it hits me. Everything makes sense now.

'So we're in my mind?' I ask. 'I suppose that makes sense why every room is different. And because it reminds me of Snowpiercer.'

I watch the man curiously. Could he be someone I've manifested from the outside world too?

I start searching through the phone.

'So now you know,’ He says. ‘But you haven't asked me the most important question.'

He stops filling the engine.

'What happens if we stop the train?'

Suddenly, he pulls on the throttle and the train starts screaming. We both fly forward and I begin shouting at him.

'Stop this. If it's true what you say and we're in my mind, it could KILL ME!'

'Or it could wake you up!' shouts the engineer. 'Wouldn't you rather take that chance?'

As we continue barreling forward, he starts braking the engine's wheels and using the airbrakes. But it's not working.

'WE'RE NOT SLOWING DOWN! THERE'S ONE MORE THING I CAN DO, BUT IT MAY CAUSE IRREPARABLE DAMAGE!'

He looks at me as if hungrily waiting for the go ahead. In a moment of madness, I give the green light.

'We've come this far. Do it.’

He nods and hits a nearby derailer. The train screeches and eventually we start coming off the tracks with a mighty groan. We continue flying through the fields at breakneck speeds and are coming up on the mountain range.

But slowly, and surely, we finally come to a halt.

I breathe a sigh of relief and the railroad engineer cheers. I shake my head profusely.

'That was a risk man, but you took it. I guess you're the dangerous part of my psyche.'

The man smiles and leans against the train.

'That I am. Happy to be of service.'

I hear shouting behind me and see that people are beginning to ford off the train. Penelope is among them. Just as long as there are no Zombies.

'I'd better go,' I say. 'Got some things I need to take care of.'

'No worries. But go have a look round the front of the train when you can. There's one last surprise for you.'

'Honestly, I don't think anything else could surprise me at this rate. But I will.'

I stop for a moment.

'Do we know each other? In the real world?'

'Undoubtedly,' He smirks. ‘See ya Jake.’

We shake hands. I look over to Penelope longingly. And then I double back and hop over the other side of the train.

It's the Hogwarts Express. You've got to be fucking kidding me.