Hold Your Breath

I felt the rocking of the train car as I sort of sat in my chair..more like slumped over, “ca-chunk ca-chunk ca-chunk” the sound of the train flying down the tracks was repetitive but almost comforting… but I knew something was off.

The slightly off-key hum of the fluorescent tubes pulled me back to consciousness, and I squinted to focus my eyes on my surroundings. My eyes were having a difficult time focusing. Dull tan rows of seats in front of me…more tan seats beside me… I winced as I turned to look behind me, why was my head throbbing… my gaze was met with a cold steel barrel… I could see the rifling spiraling down the inside of it.

"Don't turn around. Stay where you are" a gravelly voice whispered to me.

I put my hand to my head, to assess the damage. My fingers gingerly felt the side of my head... It was sticky and swollen. My fingertips had clotted blood that stuck and stretched almost like thick molasses as I pulled them away. I glanced down to look at my fingers. I looked up and sort of out the window. The countryside was flying past the tinted windows outside, but I couldn’t tell where we were… where did I board? My concussed head wouldn't let me remember right now. I was still unsure of where I was but I knew I wasn’t in control of where I was currently being monitored. I looked around my seat area… a safety pamphlet… magazines… someone’s leftover napkins. The safety pamphlet was laminated… that's pretty strong… I slowly pulled the trifold flier out of the pocket on the back of the seat in front of me and pretended to read it…

I slowly curled it into itself as I looked ahead… tightly forming a rod I hopefully could use to defend myself. I slowly turned again… the armed monitor behind me was bored with his job at this point, he was looking lazily around the cabin, trying to keep awake. I slowly braced myself against the side of my seat and readied my ‘weapon’.

“Excuse me… I really need to use the latrine… there will be an incident if I don’t go…” I tried to sound weak… and urgent. The guard sighed and mumbled under his breath, “why in the hell did I get stuck watching you…” as he stood up and motioned to the aisle with his Glock.

I slid the tightly rolled tube into my sleeve and stood up, my legs were not ready for it. I crumbled, my left hand gripped the armrest as I steadied myself. I slowly stood again and stepped gingerly into the aisle. I was easily a foot shorter than the man with the gun. He looked like a wannabe club bouncer with tribal tattoos on the backs of his hands and curling up around his muscly neck. My legs were stiff and sore as I moved sideways… my head was still fuzzy from being struck by something, probably the butt of the pistol the man held aimed at my chest.

I faltered again; stumbled and grabbed the armrest of a chair next to me. He dropped his aim and I took my densely rolled tube and jammed it into the soft flesh under his chin, close to his throat. Took the meaty part of my palm and forced it deep, hoping it would be enough to make the guard stop. It left a red mark on my hand, and I saw blood slowly trail down his esophagus.

He dropped his gun and grabbed his throat as I forced the rolled paper cylinder deeper into his throat, drawing more blood. The blood turned almost purple as I forced it in until I knew he was fully incapacitated, and I quickly grabbed the gun he dropped. I checked the magazine and the barrel… He was still gasping and in a heap of flesh and blood with the pain I had inflicted, he didn’t even register the gun in his face. I pulled two thick zip ties from his vest pocket and tied his left wrist to the armrest of the seat closest to him. He was still too sore to cry out, but I knew he would eventually figure out a way to notify whoever he was working for.

I took his Glock and stashed it in my waistband, at my spine, the best spot to hide something. The indent of the muscles hides certain things. Not many things, but it would do for a few minutes. I also grabbed what he had left for zip ties, and shoved them in my jacket pocket.

I moved low and carefully along the aisle to see who was in the next car. My legs were still stiff and the muscles started burning as I moved. Through the window, I could see a very blandly toned person. Navy suit… pale complexion… almost unnatural blond hair color. He checked his watch... Then he looked out the window… I carefully opened the sliding doors between the cabins. I knelt down as the second door opened … the man didn’t even expect me, I hit him so hard with the handle of the gun I was holding…he dropped quickly, almost like a wet blanket. I took two more zip ties from my pocket and tied the wrists of the well-dressed guy. Might have pulled the zip ties tighter than any polite person would have.

I seemed to have been targeted for some reason and I wanted to address whatever was happening as quickly as possible. I kept moving along the empty train car, the swaying of the car on the tracks would normally be soothing but it almost seemed chaotic, or wrong in some way. The next car was empty. I had two more cars to reach the control car… I knew I ran the risk of seeing more guards… as I got closer to it. I still had the pistol and 5 more zip ties.

I crept toward the next car and carefully looked through the window between the cars. I didn't see anyone, but that didn't mean much. I slowly opened the first door, and as I stepped into the breezeway between the cars, the wind howled and the cold clawed at my hands and face. My hands shook as I reached out to grab the handle of the other door, but the train suddenly lurched to the left and I fell into the rail- almost tumbled over the rail into the blur of landscape that was still flying past. I exhaled shakily and turned to grab the door handle again. I slowly opened it and crept into the train car. I heard someone cough at the far end of the train car but could not see anyone. I crouched down again, legs still burning from the strain of using those tired muscles. I was 3 rows from the front of the car and finally saw the silhouette of a person, as they shifted in the tan seat at the front of the train car. I slid into the row behind them and pressed the barrel of the gun into the back of their neck. The person coughed again, and slowly raised old and wrinkled hands. I stood up and moved around to see their face. I still didn’t recognize anyone, and even though the old man looked at me with anger, I had no idea why. I zip tied him to the chair he was sitting in and asked him if he knew why I was on the train. He shook his head and refused to speak to me. I sighed and proceeded to the next train car. There wasn’t anyone in this one either. I braced myself to expect someone in the control car.

I opened the door to… nothing. There wasn’t a control panel, no brake… no emergency phone. Just a timer.

29…..

28…..

27…..

It was down to 15 seconds and my heart was racing so fast that I was getting dizzy. I stood in the small room, watching trees and hills fly past, hands tightly balled into fists as the countdown neared its end.

3…

2…

1…

The flash was so bright that I winced and put my hand up to shield my eyes. The entire horizon disappeared and, as the train I was on continued flying toward the brilliance of the bombs that were detonated, I knew I would soon be burning too.