Dilemma

This is a dream. It has to be a dream.

Gil’s heart pounded in his throat and he choked on his spit. His legs burned with exhaustion, but he could no longer feel them. They begged him to stop running. As he pushed through bushes and thickets, he felt thorns and branches tear into his cheeks without hesitation. He could not stop running and he could not turn around. The wolf was at his heels.

Every crunch of the leaves beneath his feet was echoed by the wolf’s paws digging into the soil- hot on Gil’s trail. Ahead there was a clearing. The moon broke through the dense forest and offered Gil a choice as he approached a fork in the road.

Right, or left.

The brief hesitation was enough for the wolf to close the distance, and as Gil turned around, he saw the wolf’s teeth. Drool and froth hung from the animal’s snarl, and Gil knew he was going to die. The wolf pointed its eyes to the sky and howled.

***

Gil could feel his heart beating in his clenched fists and sweat dripped from his forehead. His eyes opened as the howl faded into the comforting sound of a horn. Gratitude washed over him- he was thankful to have escaped the nightmare. He held his eyes closed again, and attempted to get his breathing under control. His nostrils filled with the smell of burnt coal and the horn sounded again, rooting him back into reality and away from the terrible dream he was having. He sat up and looked around.

A train. He was on a train. As a man in his 50s, Gil had experienced many nights in his youth that he was unable to recollect after drinking heavily. Usually, his head would pound with a headache after so much alcohol. As he sat in his seat, his head felt none of the fogginess of a hangover and he couldn’t remember why he was on the train or where it was going. He looked over the heads of the people in front of him, but saw no attendants that he could address his questions to. The window revealed it was sometime during the day, possibly around noon. His gaze continued past the window and landed on the people sitting next to him in his row. They were asleep. Gil looked around and found that everyone in the train car was sleeping.

He stood from his chair and peered back only to find more closed eyes and the slow rise and fall of chests, dreaming peacefully.

What the fuck is happening?

Reaching into his pockets, he did not find his cellphone. No phone. No wallet. Not even a train ticket. He pat down his front pockets again, before patting down his back, eventually finding a lump against his right side. Reaching into the bottom of the pocket, he produced a key. He held it up close to his face, unable to take in its details at a distance without his reading glasses. There was only one word stamped into the metal face of the key- DILEMMA.

Gil gazed around the train car. None of the occupants stirred. The car would have been silent if not for a handful of the passengers snoring. Every seat was occupied, and if he had to guess, there were other cars attached to this one with many more passengers he was unable to see. He was not scared, only confused. His eyes bounced around the compartment, eventually landing on the front of the car and a windowless door. There was white paint on the door spelling something out that he could not quite make out from where he stood. He took a guess as to what the wording on the door was and found himself correct as he approached the door and read the same word from the key- DILEMMA.

The key slid into the lock comfortably, as if it had been longing for its embrace. It turned without any sound and zero resistance. The door, however, was heavy. Gil pushed against it and it hardly moved. He braced his feet against the metal floor and hoped he wouldn’t slip as he forced his shoulder into the door, over and over again. As soon as the door was open enough for him to slip through, he took the opportunity. He felt his heart pounding up and down his throat, and forced himself to swallow the spit in his mouth to keep from choking on it. He wiped his brow against his sleeve and moved deeper into the new room.

There were no passengers in the new car. There wasn’t really much of anything. There was a brass lever in the center of the room and two white envelopes stapled to the wall behind it. Searching for answers, Gil grabbed an envelope from the wall, unable to hear the sound of the staple as it hit the floor. The envelope was not sealed, only closed, and Gil opened it up, pulling out a lone piece of parchment from inside.

One person. Someone you know.

Gil flipped the envelope over and read the word “right” written on its face.

The other envelope said “left”, and Gil pulled it from the wall, repeating his actions for a second time.

Five people. They are strangers.

There was nothing else in the room. Gil stood alone with the decision. He grasped the lever in his hand. It felt cool to the touch. He let it go before the warmth of his hand was lost to the metal.

The room with the lever had no lights. The sun shone through the windows and provided all of the light necessary for Gil to see what he was doing. Stepping away from the lever, he looked out the window to the left and found nothing but sprawling trees. He looked outside toward the front of the train and saw it- a fork in the railroad ahead.

Panic set in and Gil felt the train running fast beneath his feet. His soles felt heavy with hesitation and he was afraid he would be unable to move. The train’s horn whistled three times, snapping Gil out of his trance and forcing him to the other side of the room, where he looked out the second window. The fork was closer now, and he could faintly see what looked like a shape laying across the tracks in the distance.

Gil’s thought process was interrupted and he jumped when the train screamed another two whistles. It was counting down. Three, two... Gil shivered when he considered what would happen the next time the train spoke. He moved back to the first window on the left and could almost make out five distinct shapes on the tracks. He shoved himself away from the window and raised his hands to his head, ready to pull at his hair, where his hands knocked his reading glasses to the floor. He often forgot about them on top of his head. He considered bending over to pick them up, but decided the less he could see of his impending decision, the better.

He returned to the lever in the center of the room, gripping the brass and feeling it slip in his sweaty palm. Someone he knows... or five strangers. An impossible decision. The train whistled a single time and Gil didn’t have to look out the window to know it was time for him to decide. His fingers tightened and he clenched his teeth, unsure of his decision, but ready to decide nonetheless. He closed his eyes, and let go of the lever.

He didn’t choose. He didn’t want to play the game and he didn’t want to decide who got to live and who had to die. Gil caught himself holding his breath, and let go, allowing himself to breath normal again. He collapsed to the floor, feeling the vibrations of the train as it pressed forward. He was convinced that he would feel something as the train collided with one side of the fork and was almost confused when he felt nothing.

Gil stood and walked to the window to his right. Peering out and back, he saw a track behind him with a single sleeping occupant. Walking to the other window, he found a track with five sleeping people, laying undisturbed. He couldn’t help but laugh to himself. The pressure to choose- to decide... He found a way to win whatever sick game he had just played, and couldn’t help but let his laughter fill the empty room with relief. He had never considered that the fork in the road had three paths and that he was now traveling the middle railroad with no blood on his hands. He admired the peacefulness of the trees and the calm low drone of the train’s wheels as they rode against the metal. He looked toward the front of the train from the window and saw a sign. Maybe they were getting close to the end of the line and he would be face to face with whoever was running this game or experiment or whatever the hell this was. As the sign grew closer, he decided to reach to the floor and grab his glasses after all so that he could read what the sign said sooner.

With the glasses resting on his nose, he peered out the window again and stopped breathing when his eyes met the words on the sign.

RAIL ENDS AHEAD.

The train was not stopping. Gil felt the vibrations of the train beneath his feet and was convinced that, if anything, the train was going faster. His nostrils flared and his voice went horse as he begged out loud for the train to stop.

This is a dream. It has to be a dream.

He had made his choice- it was his fault everyone on the train was going to die. The train screamed a long whistle as Gil continued to cry.