Problem Train

I sit up gasping, disoriented.

A figure next to me calls out “C’mon! Get up!” and hauls me to my feet. Something about this feels familiar, but I don’t know how or why. I look out of the window next to me and realize that I’m in a bloody train car. A gun is thrust into my hands and I look up at the figure and freeze. I study his dark, tousled hair and his square jaw. He moves to brace himself against the side of the door with his own gun pointed down the corridor to the left. His shirt is rolled up to his elbows and his forearms flex as he switches directions. I suck in a breath and stagger forward a step, realizing that I am in the stupidest, tightest red dress and stiletto heels.

“What is goi–” I don’t get to finish my question as the glass windows shatter inwards. I throw myself to the ground and curl into a ball to protect myself.I feel strong arms wrap themselves around me, protectively.

“You’re okay, you got this,” he says, in a deep voice that vibrates through me. My body responds by reaching down and pulling off my heels. He drops his arms and I pop up to my feet and rip the dress up the sides to allow for mobility. My hands automatically check the clip and cock my gun. Huh, that’s cool, I think to myself, because the movements felt second nature.

“That’s my girl,” he mutters, smiling.

“Sorry, but… do I know you?”

His face falls a bit, “Shit, that head bump really knocked you a new one didn’t it.”

“Uhhh, what?” Before he can go on, bullets start flying and people start screaming. We both duck and brace against the side of the car, under the broken windows. At least the bullets don’t appear to be going through the wall. I look over at him, “You going to tell me what the hell is going on?”

He smirks, “You’re one of our best agents and we’re currently in a shootout with some members of a sex trafficking ring.” I don't have time to pick apart the reality of his statement because they shoot at us again; he pops up and returns fire. When the shooting stops, he ducks back down and pulls a new clip out of his back pocket.

“And what have we found so far?”

“To put it plainly, nothing.”

“Well, that’s just perfect.” I mutter under my breath. I glance around and notice that a couple of bullets have hit the sides, but don’t look like they have gone all the way through into the next carriages. I scramble over to one, place my hand on the wall and push. It flexes enough to suggest that it is a false wall, probably built in haste. “Seriously?”

“What?”

“This.” I take a step back and swing my gun, handle first, toward the wall. The handle punctures and makes a hole big enough for us to see that there is enough room between each carriage to hold about four people, very uncomfortably. This section, fortunately, is empty.

“Holy shit,” he says as he stands up and walks toward me with a breathtaking smile on his face. “Nice work.”

The hair on the back of my neck stands up as time seems to warp. A bullet whizzes through the air and sinks into his side. His eyes go wide as he covers the wound with a hand, turns to shoot, but takes another shot in the shoulder.

“NO!” I scream as he drops to the ground. My eyes laser focus on the three figures in the hallway. I fire three shots and all of them sink to the ground, dead, with a single bullet through the forehead. Damn! I’m actually good at this. He groans, and I lower myself to the floor beside him. I help him rip his shirt off so I can check for an exit wound. I can’t help but be a tiny bit distracted by his toned body, however I force myself to focus as a pool of blood starts forming on the floor.

“I’m going to sit you up so I can check if it went all the way through, okay?” He nods, and I pull him into a sitting position. He grunts in pain, but I am able to see a clean exit wound. I sigh a breath of relief, “Okay, we’re okay.” I glance back at him. He’s gone a bit ashen and somehow I know he is going into shock. I take his shirt and tie it around his abdomen to help keep pressure on the wound. I look around and spot a jacket that I grab and put over him.

The train’s movement starts to become really jarring and I straighten to glance out the window. I frown and my eyes narrow as I notice we’re going really fast, too fast. I crouch back down.

“I’m going to go figure out what is happening.” He coughs and puts more pressure on his wound. He reaches up and cups the back of my neck, pulling me down to him. His lips smash against mine in the most passionate kiss I have ever had… at least that’s what I’m guessing, since I can’t actually remember.

“Be safe, okay?” He rasps.

“I– I will,” I answer, standing up; still a bit dumbstruck at what just happened. He struggles to grab something from his back pocket, but hands me an extra clip.

“Just in case,” he says. I turn to exit and realize that I don’t even know his name. I turn back, “I know this is going to sound silly, but what’s your name?”

He coughs a laugh and says, “Ryan.” I smile as his name has my heart fluttering.

“Ryan.” As I say his name, I can feel that I care a lot about him even if my brain doesn't remember.

I take a deep breath and brace myself against the door like Ryan did when I woke up, I check both ways down the corridor, clear. I walk down, gun first, checking each carriage as I go. Everyone is either lying flat on the ground or curled up in each other’s arms. I reach the end of the car and pull open the door. I’m in luck because the next section is the Engine. I wrestle with the door but manage to get it open. The conductor lays slumped over the controls, blood covering the panel, which has shorted.

“Shit.” I look out of the front window and see that the track splits up ahead. One track goes right through a tunnel, and the other curves left over an incomplete bridge with a drop that would lead to certain death. A sign appears saying that there is a town just up ahead, which means potential catastrophe if this train were to barrel through, but we’re going too fast to make the curve. My mind races to make a plan. I look around and try to engage the breaks or disengage the engine, with no success. Out of the front windows, I see the split in the tracks coming up, and fast. It’s clear that I have to try to get this engine separated from the rest of the train before then to be able to flip the track switch and send the rest of the train towards the town.

I take a deep breath and think of all of the people on this train, including Ryan. My mind replays the moment Ryan kissed me. A sense of calm washes over me as my brain processes what has to happen next. I grab a heavy looking hammer off the hook to the left of the control panels and walk back to the door. I stare down at the track flying past below and have to close my eyes for a second. I take another deep breath and open my eyes. I study the mechanism between the part of the engine I’m standing on and the rest of the train. I see the pin that disengages the connection and swing. Nothing happens. I swing again. Metal groans reverberate up to me. I swing again. And again. And again. Until I can see it is almost there. I glance up at movement and see Ryan staring at me from down the corridor. He’s trying to get to me, probably to stop me. I double down on my efforts. I’m not letting him or anyone else get hurt more. He needs to survive to be able to save all of the women and girls from a horrible future.

I look up again as Ryan’s face crumples in pain. He knows he isn’t going to make it to me in time. “Forgive me” I mouth and swing the hammer one last time. The engine separates and immediately speeds up from the lack of weight, while the rest of the train begins to coast and slowly reduces speed. I barely have enough time to grab the side railing and hit the track switch. Ryan places his hand on the window, tears stream down his face. A sob wracks my chest as I press my fingers to my lips; he holds my gaze for as long as he can. The engine shudders as it busts through the stop gates. I close my eyes and let myself submerge into the calm of my mind.

I become vaguely aware that I am laying on a hard surface, being held in place by bands across my wrists and chest, but am unsuccessful at opening my eyes. Somewhere in the darkness an automated voice sounds, “Train Test scenario 5 round 100 of 100 complete. Agent's choice of 'sacrifice self to save many' chosen 100 times. Commencing scenario 6 test, round 1: Agent must choose between a family member and multiple team members on the train.”

What the f–

~ ~ ~

I sit up gasping, disoriented. A figure next to me calls out “C’mon! Get up!” and hauls me to my feet. Something about this feels familiar, but I don’t know how or why. I look out of the window next to me and realize that I’m in a bloody train car.